Give Me A Reason To Believe

The harsh sunlight peeked through the blinds, right onto my closed lids.
I groaned. A throbbing pain rose in my forehead, stabbing at my brain every two seconds. I pulled the duvet over my head lazily, rolling over to Zack’s side of the bed. It was empty.
“Zack?” I groaned.
No reply.
I slowly opened my eyes, leaning onto my elbow for support.
“Zack?” I tried again, glancing towards his side. He was gone- it looked like he hadn’t even slept there at all. I furrowed my brows.
A crumpled piece of paper ay on Zack’s pillow, his writing hurriedly scribbled across it. It read;

Lisa- we need to talk.
Starbucks by the Hudson.
2pm. Be there. I can’t afford for you to be late this time.
- Zack.

I glanced at the clock. 1pm. That gave me just enough time to get ready. I rolled out of bed clumsily, padding softly across the tiled floor to the bathroom. I sighed when I saw my reflection. My hair was tangled, sticking out at odd angles. My mascara as well as my lipstick had been smudged around my face, making it look ugly and dirty. Hastily, I undressed and turned on the shower, shuddering with warmth as the water splashed my bare back.

When I emerged, I began tending to my massive hangover; drinking gallons of water, taking six Tylenol, covering the bags under my eyes with large sunglasses in an attempt to make myself look presentable. Makeup, sandals and my favourite designer dress went on. I was ready. I grabbed my keys, strutting out the door.

The bright morning light shone in warm patches along the pavement, making the dull grey cement shimmer. A handful of people were walking down the street, each wearing shorts and t-shirts due to the unexpected change in the weather. The Hudson River sparkled as the rays of sunlight hit the surface, making the water a bright baby blue. I marvelled in the beauty of it momentarily, only stopping to glance at my watch. 1:45pm. 15 minutes.

What did Zack want to talk to me about anyway? I couldn’t think what I had done to… irritate him, I guess. I hadn’t noticed a change in his attitude lately at all- he was still the same person.
I stopped at the river’s railing.
Was he the same person? I… I couldn’t remember.

“Hi.”
I jumped, shocked as Zack walked up behind me. His eyes were strained, his posture slumped. This wasn’t him.
“Jeez, you scared the crap out of me, Zack.” I said clutching my chest.
He smiled half-heartedly.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” He turned the railing, gazing out onto the River. I placed a hand on his bicep, frowning.
"What’s the matter?"
He sighed.

"I... I can't do this anymore."
He looked defeated.
"What do you mean?"
What was he saying? I couldn't understand what he was trying to get across to me.
Zack turned to me again, frustrated. He shook my hand off his arm.
"I... I can't... this... You! I can't deal with you all the time! I can't...."
He sighed again, tears forming in his eyes.
"I can't live like this, Lisa.”

I was shocked. I felt hurt creep onto my face.
"Deal with me? How... how could you even say that? I haven't done anything to make you say that!"
"Yes!" He yelled. "Yes, you have! But you don’t remember the next day of how scared I feel when I get your drunken phone calls, you don’t remember how I drag you home each night, you. Don’t. Remember. when I have to carry you upstairs- unconscious and drunk- and clean you up so you can sleep soundly at night!”

Zack breathed hard, staring at me. He was determined, strong. I was not.
I blinked behind my sunglasses, speechless.
“I, uh…”
“No.” he held up his hand. “You’ve done enough to me. I don’t want to be with you anymore, Lisa. It’s killing me to say this, but it’s for the best,” he stared at me, tortured. “You need to learn to look after yourself. I can’t be your… you maid anymore!”
“My maid?” I interrupted. “You’re not my maid! I don’t …” I closed my eyes, the headache rising to the surface again.

I felt my glasses being ripped off my face. I opened my eyes in shock. Zack had grabbed my shoulders, his expression pleading.
“This. This!” He pointed at my eyes. “Is why I’m going. You have bags under your eyes every night, because you’re out partying. I can’t look after you anymore. Give me a reason to believe I have to stay.”
Silence.
His hands lowered.

I was surprised, paralyzed by my shock. I could only move my cold lips.
“If… if you think… that’s… best…”
“I do.” He breathed. “You’ll learn to look after yourself. You’ll get your life back on track. Just… without me.”
Tears made their way down my face, and I looked away from Zack.
“’Kay.” My voice cracked.
He ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip.

“Well… good luck, Lisa. Bye.”
He brushed my arm gently before walking away. Away from me. From us.

“Bye.”

2 months later.
She stood on the bridge, looking out onto the River. It was a deep, ultramarine blue that matched the colour of her eyes. She was in New York. She loved it here. The city skyline was magnificent. It was one of the things that drew her here in the first place. The other one being him.
She contemplated jumping. Then maybe all her problems would go, and her pain would ease. The girl leant against the bridge railing, her brunette hair flying forward in front of her face, hiding her emotion.

A scruffy figure came along the bridge, dragging a can-filled shopping cart. He was engulfed in dirty trench coat, his trousers and shoes torn beyond repair. He approached the girl.
“Miss?”
She turned, shocked to the stranger.
“Uh, yeah?”
He retrieved a small, perfect flower from his pocket. Unexpected and beautiful.
“I think you need this more than I do.”

He pressed the flower into her palm.
“Bye, beautiful.” He said, quickly walking away.
She stared at him as he loped across the bridge, confused. Why did he give her this?
She looked at the flower. At first look it seemed flawless, but when she looked closer, she noticed one of the petals had been ripped. Apart from this, the flower was perfect. To her, anyway.

She smiled. She understood. Everybody has flaws. But on the whole, we are beautiful. Maybe now she could finally heal herself, not drag anybody down. Now, she could live.