L'appel du Vide
If Only.
Years ago, I jokingly swore that my downfall would be sad country love songs. Nothing could bring me to tears faster than a story of meant to be lovers torn apart by the cruelty of fate. My mom told me I was a little too soft hearted and lucky that my only heartache was for the misfortune of others, not my own. She swore to me that so long as I kept putting others before myself, I would find my own happiness, that she was glad the only things that ate me up inside were sad stories.
In the end, though, my downfall was how soft hearted I truly was. How I let other people’s words affect me. Cliche as it may be, I wanted to be perfect. Not for myself, but for others. I wanted the people around me to be happy, I wanted life to go in the direction they planned, I didn’t want disappointment to overcome. Perfection is not something easily obtained, though, and that’s something I learned the hard way.
I’m not a bad person. I mean to be the girl my grandmother loves, but sometimes I forget that it matters. The funny thing about being crazy is that you’re never fully crazy. It comes in bouts. Sometimes you’re completely sane. Most of the time, really- it’s just in those desperate moments that you lash out and the monster inside of you destroys every last shred of logic you have left. Suddenly nothing makes sense except for hurt and self destruction, so that’s what you go with; it’s all you have. But when you realize what others will think of you for yours actions, all you have is regret. Which takes you right back to those desperate moments of self hatred. It’s a vicious cycle.
Of all the moments I wanted to tear myself apart, the worst was at my sixteenth birthday party. I had insisted that instead of cake we have some ridiculous healthy waffle recipe I had found on a weight loss web site. My grandparents’ house should have been a place of happy childhood memories and family, but instead it tore me down further, reminding me that I was steering from the path my family had planned for me. I was a disappointment. I could tell by the looks I got when I wouldn’t take any ice cream, the comments about my weight, the way I felt so alienated around the people I had grown up around. It was no mystery that I didn’t belong. I felt numb. All I wanted to do was sleep. Maybe forever. I kept thinking about the past and wondering what I had done to end up the way I was. Why I was so fucked up when I grew up in the perfect family.
When I was little, I wanted to be everything. In a way I was. I can remember playing at Gram and Pawpa’s house with Kaylie and Kelsey, endless ridiculous children’s games. Some days I was a warrior come to save all the land, others the fastest runner in the entire neighborhood, occasionally a princess who needed to be saved. I was blessed with super powers every now and then. I was the smartest woman in the world. I played the role of a mother, a baby, a doctor, a patient, a lawyer, a butler, a billionaire, a detective, a beauty queen, a bank robber, a cowboy, a jealous sister, a talking dog. Kaylie, Kels, and I? We were anything that our minds could imagine up. We had to take turns being what we wanted, sure, but in the end I always got a chance to be the person with the happy ending. Back then, I didn’t understand how anyone could ever be sad. I had such high expectations of my life. I thought I’d grow up to be a rockstar, a superhero, a movie star. Something spectacular and luxurious and nearly impossible, sky really was the limit in my mind. I wondered what happened to that. I used to want the best for myself, no matter what it took, no matter how many grownups informed me that chances were unlikely. But then something happen, something in me broke. I grew up and I started to believe people when they said I didn’t have a chance. I wasn’t good enough for those far-fetched dreams. People talked me down from the pedestal of hopes I sat on. Maybe I would have ended up disappointed had they not, but I was so high up that I could almost touch the stars. It might have been worth it. But then everyone tore me down, threw me to the pavement, and beat the hope out of me. Far-fetched dreams? Hell, all I wanted out of life was to lay in bed, unnoticed, go by in life not feeling anything. I wish I could go back and be that little girl again. I wished I still wanted the very best for myself and believed I deserve it.
But eventually we all had to grow up and give up such ridiculous notions. We each went our separate ways.
Kelsey grew up to be the real-life version of a princess. She stopped wearing her hair in a ponytail and let her thick, pin-straight brown hair fall down her back. Her deep chocolate eyes were carefully outlined in black and amplified; her teeth straightened and pearly white, her skin clear as a freshly fogged-over window and just as smooth. A group of pretty girls followed her around faithfully, offering their daddy’s yacht for the weekend or their indoor swimming pool or the big party they planned to throw on Friday night. All the boys wanted her attention and her phone number and just a moment of her time and a date on Saturday night and one small kiss on the lips and maybe a little bit more.
Kaylie grew up to be the shadow. She was no doubt pretty, but no beauty could surpass that of her older sister’s. Try as she might, she couldn’t get her hair to fall just perfectly, she couldn’t look quite as good in that fifty dollar pair of jeans, she couldn’t capture the attention of all with just a look and the bat of an eye. Pretty girls followed her around; but only to get to Kelsey. The boys said they wanted to know her, but really all they wanted was a chance with her older sister. I almost felt bad for her; almost pitied her. But in my opinion, I had grown up to be so much worse.
I grew up to be the nobody girl.
I would have rather been a shadow.
As I sat at the breakfast bar in my grandparents' house, listening to my family sing Happy Birthday, all I could wonder is what it was like to be happy. I couldn’t remember how it felt. There was a small stretch of memory, like trying to remember what the warm sun feels like against your skin in the middle of the winter, but it wasn’t much to go off of. I had once been a carbon copy of all the carefree children, hard as it was to believe, showing off my teeth while blindly ignorant to the disturbing world around me. This was before the weight of my heart dropped to my stomach and confined me to the ground.
"Hannah, make a wish," Kaylie insisted, causing me to snap out of my daydream and blow out the pink candles Gram had stuck in my cornmeal waffles. I knew it was ridiculous that I force her to make waffles instead of buy a cake, but she had made it work for me. A sense of overwhelming guilt ensued, followed by my dismissing myself from the table. No one really thought much of it, they most likely assumed I was going to the bathroom or headed to the kitchen to grab something to drink.
I found myself outside instead, reflecting on the last sixteen years. The sky was dark blue, stars thrown carelessly around, the moon hung high and shining bright. Its glow gleamed against the pond water, and I leaned against the edge of the balcony, closing my eyes. The wind blew gently against my face, the smell of winter hitting my nose and the sound of friendly chatter making its way from inside. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to jump. To end it all. I reasoned that dying was a lot like sleeping, and sleeping had become my most favorite past time.
I don't know if I would have done it. I doubt it, but at the same time I can't be sure, because I was interrupted.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Gram mused, moving to stand beside me. She leaned against the railing, smiling to herself. "It's amazing what God can do, isn't it?"
I wasn't sure I believed in God anymore, but I knew the idea would break my grandma's heart, so I agreed, "It is."
"Sixteen, huh? You're really getting on up there," she told me, eyes scanning the sky. "You haven't seen anything yet, though, dear. The world is such an amazing place and you're going to do great things in it."
"You think?" I replied casually.
"I know so," she told me. "The world may be a crazy place. There are a lot of bad people out there, but there is also a lot of beauty and a lot of good. You're part of that good. I've known ever since you were little girl that you'd do something spectacular. Your pawpa, he used to say you'd be the heart breaker of the group, but I didn't agree. I told him you'd be the one who made something great of herself. And you've spent the last sixteen years proving me right. I'm proud of you, Hannah. I love you."
I didn't know what to say, so I moved to lean my head against her shoulder, remembering the happiness and comfort of childhood. The words didn't suddenly relieve me of all the anguish, they didn't change the fact that I knew I could never live up to expectations. But for a moment, I felt okay. "I love you too."
In the end, though, my downfall was how soft hearted I truly was. How I let other people’s words affect me. Cliche as it may be, I wanted to be perfect. Not for myself, but for others. I wanted the people around me to be happy, I wanted life to go in the direction they planned, I didn’t want disappointment to overcome. Perfection is not something easily obtained, though, and that’s something I learned the hard way.
I’m not a bad person. I mean to be the girl my grandmother loves, but sometimes I forget that it matters. The funny thing about being crazy is that you’re never fully crazy. It comes in bouts. Sometimes you’re completely sane. Most of the time, really- it’s just in those desperate moments that you lash out and the monster inside of you destroys every last shred of logic you have left. Suddenly nothing makes sense except for hurt and self destruction, so that’s what you go with; it’s all you have. But when you realize what others will think of you for yours actions, all you have is regret. Which takes you right back to those desperate moments of self hatred. It’s a vicious cycle.
Of all the moments I wanted to tear myself apart, the worst was at my sixteenth birthday party. I had insisted that instead of cake we have some ridiculous healthy waffle recipe I had found on a weight loss web site. My grandparents’ house should have been a place of happy childhood memories and family, but instead it tore me down further, reminding me that I was steering from the path my family had planned for me. I was a disappointment. I could tell by the looks I got when I wouldn’t take any ice cream, the comments about my weight, the way I felt so alienated around the people I had grown up around. It was no mystery that I didn’t belong. I felt numb. All I wanted to do was sleep. Maybe forever. I kept thinking about the past and wondering what I had done to end up the way I was. Why I was so fucked up when I grew up in the perfect family.
When I was little, I wanted to be everything. In a way I was. I can remember playing at Gram and Pawpa’s house with Kaylie and Kelsey, endless ridiculous children’s games. Some days I was a warrior come to save all the land, others the fastest runner in the entire neighborhood, occasionally a princess who needed to be saved. I was blessed with super powers every now and then. I was the smartest woman in the world. I played the role of a mother, a baby, a doctor, a patient, a lawyer, a butler, a billionaire, a detective, a beauty queen, a bank robber, a cowboy, a jealous sister, a talking dog. Kaylie, Kels, and I? We were anything that our minds could imagine up. We had to take turns being what we wanted, sure, but in the end I always got a chance to be the person with the happy ending. Back then, I didn’t understand how anyone could ever be sad. I had such high expectations of my life. I thought I’d grow up to be a rockstar, a superhero, a movie star. Something spectacular and luxurious and nearly impossible, sky really was the limit in my mind. I wondered what happened to that. I used to want the best for myself, no matter what it took, no matter how many grownups informed me that chances were unlikely. But then something happen, something in me broke. I grew up and I started to believe people when they said I didn’t have a chance. I wasn’t good enough for those far-fetched dreams. People talked me down from the pedestal of hopes I sat on. Maybe I would have ended up disappointed had they not, but I was so high up that I could almost touch the stars. It might have been worth it. But then everyone tore me down, threw me to the pavement, and beat the hope out of me. Far-fetched dreams? Hell, all I wanted out of life was to lay in bed, unnoticed, go by in life not feeling anything. I wish I could go back and be that little girl again. I wished I still wanted the very best for myself and believed I deserve it.
But eventually we all had to grow up and give up such ridiculous notions. We each went our separate ways.
Kelsey grew up to be the real-life version of a princess. She stopped wearing her hair in a ponytail and let her thick, pin-straight brown hair fall down her back. Her deep chocolate eyes were carefully outlined in black and amplified; her teeth straightened and pearly white, her skin clear as a freshly fogged-over window and just as smooth. A group of pretty girls followed her around faithfully, offering their daddy’s yacht for the weekend or their indoor swimming pool or the big party they planned to throw on Friday night. All the boys wanted her attention and her phone number and just a moment of her time and a date on Saturday night and one small kiss on the lips and maybe a little bit more.
Kaylie grew up to be the shadow. She was no doubt pretty, but no beauty could surpass that of her older sister’s. Try as she might, she couldn’t get her hair to fall just perfectly, she couldn’t look quite as good in that fifty dollar pair of jeans, she couldn’t capture the attention of all with just a look and the bat of an eye. Pretty girls followed her around; but only to get to Kelsey. The boys said they wanted to know her, but really all they wanted was a chance with her older sister. I almost felt bad for her; almost pitied her. But in my opinion, I had grown up to be so much worse.
I grew up to be the nobody girl.
I would have rather been a shadow.
As I sat at the breakfast bar in my grandparents' house, listening to my family sing Happy Birthday, all I could wonder is what it was like to be happy. I couldn’t remember how it felt. There was a small stretch of memory, like trying to remember what the warm sun feels like against your skin in the middle of the winter, but it wasn’t much to go off of. I had once been a carbon copy of all the carefree children, hard as it was to believe, showing off my teeth while blindly ignorant to the disturbing world around me. This was before the weight of my heart dropped to my stomach and confined me to the ground.
"Hannah, make a wish," Kaylie insisted, causing me to snap out of my daydream and blow out the pink candles Gram had stuck in my cornmeal waffles. I knew it was ridiculous that I force her to make waffles instead of buy a cake, but she had made it work for me. A sense of overwhelming guilt ensued, followed by my dismissing myself from the table. No one really thought much of it, they most likely assumed I was going to the bathroom or headed to the kitchen to grab something to drink.
I found myself outside instead, reflecting on the last sixteen years. The sky was dark blue, stars thrown carelessly around, the moon hung high and shining bright. Its glow gleamed against the pond water, and I leaned against the edge of the balcony, closing my eyes. The wind blew gently against my face, the smell of winter hitting my nose and the sound of friendly chatter making its way from inside. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to jump. To end it all. I reasoned that dying was a lot like sleeping, and sleeping had become my most favorite past time.
I don't know if I would have done it. I doubt it, but at the same time I can't be sure, because I was interrupted.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Gram mused, moving to stand beside me. She leaned against the railing, smiling to herself. "It's amazing what God can do, isn't it?"
I wasn't sure I believed in God anymore, but I knew the idea would break my grandma's heart, so I agreed, "It is."
"Sixteen, huh? You're really getting on up there," she told me, eyes scanning the sky. "You haven't seen anything yet, though, dear. The world is such an amazing place and you're going to do great things in it."
"You think?" I replied casually.
"I know so," she told me. "The world may be a crazy place. There are a lot of bad people out there, but there is also a lot of beauty and a lot of good. You're part of that good. I've known ever since you were little girl that you'd do something spectacular. Your pawpa, he used to say you'd be the heart breaker of the group, but I didn't agree. I told him you'd be the one who made something great of herself. And you've spent the last sixteen years proving me right. I'm proud of you, Hannah. I love you."
I didn't know what to say, so I moved to lean my head against her shoulder, remembering the happiness and comfort of childhood. The words didn't suddenly relieve me of all the anguish, they didn't change the fact that I knew I could never live up to expectations. But for a moment, I felt okay. "I love you too."