3652 Days of Julia

Day Three Hundred and Thirty Three.
Julia’s Point Of View,
Eighteen Years Old.

“You never thought of telling me?” He asked, his voice quivering as he attempted to suppress tears. My eyes mimicked his as they filled with remorseful tears. My heart sank with guilt.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to act differently around me.”

“Act differently? How could I not? You had to tell me at some point!”

“I didn’t know it was going to come back!” I cried, breaking into a mess of tears and strained breaths. “I didn’t know Oli. I didn’t want you to worry. You’re the first person I have told.”

“I could have gone with you, you know? You need support, Julia. You can’t, and don’t have to do this alone. You have to tell you mother straight away.”

“Please… Oli, I don’t want to… not yet.”

“Why not?”

I tried to think of some way to explain it. How could I put into words the endless hours my mother and father had spent in hospital with me as an adolescent? All the tears they dispensed, all the worry that clouded them constantly – would I wake up? Would the treatments work? Was there any point in driving the family almost bankrupt to pray for a miracle in treatments that could have possibly saved me? The answer was yes. The money was well spent for the past three and a half years, until yesterday, when I found out my breast cancer had returned.

Yes, fifteen was almost an impossible age to acquire such an illness as breast cancer, and yes it shocked each and every one of the people I was close to. I can safely say it was one of the contributing factors as to why my mother needed to get away from France, from the hospitals, the medication, the constant reminder of the nights she lay awake, in tears or worse, wondering if her daughter would be with her the minute she opened her eyes.

The stress of me being sick eventually wore away at my parents. It broke them apart, it made their love fizzle out to be replaced with fights resulting from the worry and anger and despair they both felt at my uncommon illness. Neither of them knew what to do, and I had to lay there in the hospital, sick from chemo and tumour removals, to see the world pass me by, my family fall apart, as if I were in a snow globe.

“It’s been so long… everyone thought the nightmare was over.” I said. “How can I possibly tell her I have it again? Put her through all of that again?”

“She loves you,” Oli said simply. “And so do I, and I know you’ll get through this.”

I fell into his arms as emotion overcame me. Both of us reduced into a pile of sobs and anguish. I felt horrible for putting all of this onto Oli. I knew what things he would have to endure if I were to beat this again, and he didn’t. All those long hours at the hospital, the treatments… the pain, everything. Did I really want to burden him with this? Did I really want to burden anyone anymore?

My options weren’t very clear. I could pack up and leave, I was eighteen after all. But I didn’t have the money, nor the support I needed to conquer this if I left. Oli was right, I had to tell my mother. After all it was harder to tell Oli in the end than it was to tell her. My mother, she couldn’t leave me – but Oli? Oli could leave me anytime he wanted to, and it scared me to death.

“I know I have to tell her,” I whispered. “I know I have to, but it’s so hard, and I don’t want to hurt her. Not again. How could I do that to her?”

“Julia, she’s your mother. Doesn’t that answer your question?”

“But Oli…” I sobbed. “We left France because of my sickness. To get away from the reminders and the problems that arose from it. I… I can’t do this.”

“You tell her, or I do.” Oli said, stepping away from my sobbing figure and holding up his phone. “Julia?”

“No, no, no! Oli, please. Just let me think for a minute.”

“Baby, this stress is not helping you – you know there’s nothing you have to think about. Tell her, now.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! You have no fucking clue! Just leave me alone! Stop trying to give me advice on something you know nothing about Oliver!”

I ran out of Oli’s house, passing the boxes of our possessions that we had packed in order to move to London in a month. Oli and I had put all of our savings together to buy the little one bedroom, one bathroom apartment in the city. I was so looking forward to leaving here, being with Oli, going to university that my father was paying for… But now… Well now, my life was over.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t find the voice. It felt as though I had something lodged in my throat, and I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. My life was crashing down around me again already, and I hadn’t even told my mother yet. I ran down the street, tears pouring down my cheeks. I turned quickly to see Oli standing against the doorframe of his house, his hands up in a pleading gesture, not knowing if he should follow me or not. I kept running, ignoring him.

After what seemed like an hour or so, I stopped running, unsure exactly of where I was or where I was hoping to end up. I was so confused, my brain felt as though it had given up its need to function. What was I supposed to do?

My pocket vibrated and I lifted out my phone, seeing that Oli was calling. When I didn’t answer, a message popped up saying I had voicemail. Then my mother called, followed again by Oli. I barred both of their numbers, and listened to their messages.

“Baby it’s me. I’m sorry that I upset you, but now I’m really worried. Please tell me where you are. It’s getting to the point where I have to call your mother, she’s been wondering where you are. Please Julia, call me as soon as you can, I’ve been driving around for ages. I love you.”

The message clicked to an end and rain started to pour down. I ran into a nearby park, hidden under a gazebo that faced the main road. Oli would probably find me soon enough. I coiled into the seat, feeling small and insignificant as the sobs started to pour down my face and choke my breathing. This was the worst possible thing that could happen to me, aside from anything happening to Oli. I had nothing left to do but to face it, and I didn’t feel like that prospect was very achieveable.

My mother’s message rung through my ears as I played it.

“Hello Julia, I just called Oli and he told me you two were out. Please call me when you get this, I haven’t seen you for a few days. Bye.”

I swallowed, and saw Oli had left me another voice message.

“Baby, please, I’m so worried,” his voice caught, as if he were crying. “I can barely see anything in this rain, I need to know you’re okay. Please call me Julia, please, you have no idea how scared I am. I love you baby.”

I placed my phone down next to me, acknowledging the damage I was doing. I knew I was making this worse, but I had to do something to help me get a grip on what was happening to me. I needed some time to myself. I picked up my phone, dialling Oli’s number and walking out onto the grass oval in front of me. I could barely see anything around me, the rain was so heavy it was making everything turn white around me. I was surprised my phone didn’t break from being so wet. The droplets were falling at such a rapid pace, it almost hurt to have them break on my skin.

“Julia! Thank god! Where are you!?” Oli cried from the other end of the phone.

“I don’t know where I am exactly.” I stated. “But I’m getting raped from the rain, so please come and find me.”

“Are you on an oval?” He cried over the rain, I strained to hear his voice through the phone.

“Yes, why?”

“Look left.” He said, and I could see him running toward me.

He reached me and engulfed me in the most passionate and heart felt embrace I had ever felt, and I jumped up onto his hips, my legs wrapped around him and my arms around his neck. He kissed me over and over again, never once letting go.

The rain fell around us, making my clothes heavy and my shirt somewhat see through. My hair was so wet it’s size had diminished, and Oli’s was the same.

“You worried me so, so much!” He screamed at me. “You bitch, don’t ever do that again!”

“I’m sorry.” I pouted, knowing he was joking but serious at the same time.

I jumped down from his hips, but continued to kiss him as the grass below us filled up with rain, making our feet black with soil. I kissed him for what felt like hours, pushing him onto the ground and sitting on his stomach to kiss him deeply.

“I love you, I’m sorry for worrying you.” I whispered as I lay my head closer to his ear.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I should have given you some space.”

I sighed and hugged him from the side, feeling the rain on my face and beneath me, sinking into my clothes even more.

“Julia, I’ll always be there for you,” Oli said. “You’ll get through this. We’ll get through this. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Oli sat up, and leant down to kiss me on the tip of my nose. He stood up, offering his hands to me and helping me up, holding me close as I stood in front of him, kissing me again as he grabbed my hand in his and began to walk toward his car.

“Everything’s going to be alright.” I whispered to myself, comforted by the feel of Oli’s hand in mine as we went toward home.