Her Lethal Salvation

by Milo Francis

I used to believe I was a good friend, one that could stand up for others, and watch those flourishing friendships endure. I used to believe a generally subdued person like me could always distinguish right and wrong. I find myself looking back; at how I burned every bridge, just to give her everything she asked for. It started small. Please don’t go out, I need you here. I don’t like that friend of yours. I’m sad, stay up with me. Waves of guilt overtook me. I was always wrong, somehow, I was never enough. The only time I had done something right by her, were the times I isolated myself. My reasoning twisted as she convinced me of things I would’ve never believed in before. This was my first relationship, so of course I had to “learn”. She was going to teach me how to do it right. Trying to engage in other aspects in life- invite friends over, of course I was wrong. “I should’ve broken up with you right then”, she said. I was “lucky” she didn’t. The offense being, I was alone with a friend. I ate too much. I fell asleep too early. I was too tired. I wasn’t interesting enough. Too dry in conversation. Not funny enough. Explained things too thoroughly. Tried too hard. Tried too little. Didn’t let her win at a game. Made it obvious that I was letting her win. The more mistakes I made to her, the more I retreated into the turbulent safety of her world. I would overanalyze everything that set her off. Learned exactly what to say, how to act, like a robot of her bidding. My privacy became her right to know. Clearly, if I try hard enough, I’ll become worthy to her- a good person. She was critical, and I was not good enough. But that did not drive me away; it illuminated my path to salvation. The simplicity of that promise pulled me in, the siren song that let me sweetly drown in it. My friends extended their lifeboats, but I was in too deep. The kindness of their souls I pushed away, like they were trying to pull me out of that salvation. For her, I “had” to shun everything and everyone that made me happy, as foolish as that was. Why did I have to hate the world to love her, and more importantly, why did I believe it? Every day, I regret not jumping on those lifeboats. Every day, I wonder what it would be like if I had never strayed. Every day, I bear that guilt that I know I deserve. If you find yourself being pulled in by the current, don’t ignore that feeling. Don’t allow the water to fill your lungs until it’s too late. My guilt nor my lingering fear can I absolve. Maybe, my entry is a selfish apology. A weak apology to my friends, myself, the world? There will be no day that the hurt I brought upon my life does not haunt me, no way that I can make it alright. But every day that passes without her is a promise that I can be different. I can love so many people. I can learn, and I will. And I will.