“Get down from there right this second, you headache of a person!” Jen exclaimed firmly with extra annoyance, to hide the growing fear that Luke would actually jump. Luke did not budge, standing right at the edge tears visibly fell down his cheeks into the abyss that was the garden. “It’s all because of you! You destroyed me! You hurt me! Do you understand that? You hurt me. You hurt me, you hurt…” and the sobbing cut him off. Jen was in shock, maybe that’s why her cheeks were dry, and eyes even dryer. “For fucks sake, Luke! You are being ridiculous! How could have I know this will hurt you so bad? We’ve been separated for months, I get date and sleep with whoever I want!” Her voice cracking, but not from emotion, but rather from all the screaming to be heard. Luke drowned his face in his two palms, staying there for a minute and then gliding them up into his curly hair. He started squatting down on the thing edge. Jen shrieked. “Stop it!” “Oh shut up, stop pretending you care. All you’re worried about is feeling guilty and feeling marked by this, I hope that will be the case!” He continues squatting down, but it was to seat himself down on the edge, feet hanging. Did that look safer? Maybe a bit. Did that look like he is no longer thinking of jumping? Who the fuck knows! Exasperation flooded the air, Jen collapsed on the grass with her bum. “What do you want from me?” Jen whispers, not caring that Luke can’t hear, the phrase goes on a loop. She grabs her phone out of her back pocket and dials 911 with her shaking finger. She sends up one last glare, gets up, brushes herself off, turns around and starts walking away. Luke was watching her in disbelief, he expected a different reaction, he wanted her to cry, to beg, but that bitch didn’t do it. “Hey! Hey, where are you going? I am going to fucking jump! I am jumping!” He screamed to her back, but it only appeared smaller and further away.

“Hi, I am Lara and I am an addict of creating false scenarios in my head” I say while staring at myself in the mirror, full of tears might I add. It’s been five months since Mo and I started dating and I was doing so well! I didn’t create false scenarios of him still being in love with his ex and comparing us every time he saw me naked, I didn’t do it, I swear! In my last relationship I broke at two months, the scenarios and insecurities flooded my brain, I thought that my partner in the time was a waaaay better match with his ex, they were meant to be and I was just an obstacle. The relationship before that, I was good for about four months until I started waking up in the middle of the night to scroll through deleted photos on his iPad, or went through his drawers to find old birthday, valentine, anniversary cards from his ex to prove their undying love that was way realer and purer than whatever we have here.

And now Mo. After month four (and two weeks) I thought I am in the clear, but NO. They came, the thoughts came, but let me explain my rational, because it does exist and it does make sense! Mo is very creative, so am I, Mo loves music, so do I, and Mo wants to work in music, so did I at some point, but I gave up on that dream. His last two exes were singers, and me? Well I wouldn’t want to be heard even by my two year old nephew. They are creative in the way he loves and he strives to be and I am a mere mortal with no musical talents. Obviously Mo is better suited with his exes, do you see what I see? Obviously he dreams of being with them and to be surrounded by their creative aura and their beautiful voices, even if he tells me that he loves me and wants to be with me. He just doesn’t know or doesn’t want to admit whats good for him. I do know. I know who is a better match for him, I know what he’d truly desires.

I am the alternative to happiness and a perfect match…apparently to anyone who I’ve ever been with. I look away from myself, face the mirror with my back and collapse into a ball of sadness and self-pity. Maybe one day I’ll be the one.

Struggle, pain, confusion Is what she brought Playful, joyous creature Out to destroy Crying when you cry, Only hers are tears of joy You say you’ll die for her While she collects you Part of her charm Not caring that you will That you have And you’re dead You were real That was the only lesion she ever needed to learn

If I ever see that asshole Rick in my house again, these claws are coming out and not just for play. He pushed Lea, can you believe? He pushed MY Lea in front of me, then had the audacity to pick my bowls and throw them at her. I will not stand it. I will not risk that happening again. No one will ever hurt Lea, especially Rick. I will find him and meow the lawn with him (that’s what Lea likes to say I do when I get sassy, but she’d seen nothing yet).

I licked myself clean and made sure its time my exit with my nap, so not to worry Lea. I’ve been to Ricks before, when things between him and Lea were still “good”, shit hole of a place. I see Barbara, our neighbor that absolutely adores me, waiting for the bus. This is my chance, I come strutting my best strut and rub my body against her shin, she shrieks with joy. How easy. I’ll make her take me on the bus with her, it’ll take some convincing but I know how to manipulate sweet old Barbs.

I am a 12 minute walk from Rick’s house now, I can feel the taste of sweet revenge already. I knew he was dumb, all the windows are open and he’s not home, thank you for easy access Rick. Time to get to business. I enter the premises, what a fucking mess, Lea how could you ever be attracted to this guy? With all this garbage lying around he might not even notice my outside of litter business. First thing I piss on his pillow and shit under his blanket. I then piss on his couch and all the carpets, I came prepared by inhaling the contents of my water bowl. Time for another shit, what will it be? I choose his kitchen counter. His guitar looks like something pleasant to scratch, here we go. Moving on to his leather shoes, smell expensive yet ruined by his athlete’s foot, either way I scratch the shit out of it. I see a watch and some documents or identification laying on the coffee table by his couch, I’ll take that. I feel accomplished, might come back to repeat, but for now I want to nap on Lea. Bye loser house. I hop out the window, after I threw the watch and the documents out first, I dump the watch into the neighbors trash can, but the documents I take with me, I need to show Lea that I have protected her from this moron. I walk to the bus stop and make a new friend that lets me ride with him to my stop. I come home, Lea is curled up on the couch crying, not on my watch. I hop on her with the documents still in my mouth and drop them on her chest. She looks confused and sits up to take a better look, her eyes grow large, I’ve never seen that before. “Snowball!! Where did you get this? What the hell??” She says it clearly not waiting for a reply and not suspecting that I did what I did. Is she mad, is she grateful or is she scared whats going to happen next? I will protect her either way.

What defines me? What defines your love for me? I could not bear for you to look at me differently, with confusion or worse dread. I care for you so deeply, I care for your peace and comfort, for our morning cuddles, for our afternoon laughs and our evening debates. Will you think I am a monster? Will you leave me? All this goes through my mind daily as I stare at myself in the mirror or your eyes.

We sit facing each other, with laptops as barriers in between us. I anxiously check if you catch glimpses of me, if you can sense my tension, you cannot. I exhale loudly, you don’t budge as you continue to press your finger to your temple. I sigh, this time I catch your attention. “You alright, dear?” You say, while your eyes still rest on your laptop screen. “Mhm.” I back out. “Well, actually” I come back. “I wanted to talk to you,” our eyes finally meet, mine full of fear, yours half full of concern. “Go on then, you’re so serious, you’re scaring me!” You exclaim with a nervous giggle. “I haven’t been fully honest with you about who I am,” my voice cracking, “you know how I leave sometimes for days and I say it’s work?” “What is it Lou? Are you fucking with me right now?” You’re nervous, you trying to joke, but I know you’re nervous, don’t worry I am shitting myself as well. “Have you seen the news lately?” I struggle to find a way to introduce my actual self to you, so I try this. You look at me like I’m mental, which is fair, and nod your head yes. “Well, did you see last week there was a fire on 11th street and before the firefighters came someone evacuated the corner building?” “Can you get to the point, Lou? Yes, I’ve seen it!” You say frustrated and annoyed, I know I’m blue balling you right now. “It was me.” I say with all seriousness, close my mouth into a tight line and stare at you, you stare back and then burst out laughing.

“It is your choice in the end of the day, but if you choose not to leave him your promised life of wealth, riches and happiness will not come to be. He and his mother will suck you dry. You choose of course.” My healers words dropped my jaw ajar, I sat in front of her confused, devastated, but most of all angry. I love him, I thought, we have a home together, a plan, a seemingly happy future. But now I am scared, not I don’t trust the future, I don’t trust myself. I don’t remember my healer to ever be wrong, maybe because I fulfilled those predictions with my own expectations, but what if I’ll do the same now? I stood up as I uttered “This is ridiculous!” I made my way to the door to storm out in just my fashion, but the door was locked, I don’t remember locking it as I entered her “office” and neither did my healer, but there it was locked with a key from the inside. Grandpa? Is that you? My healer announced “You see, the spirits want you to listen to me. But it is your choice, to be happy or not.” I stormed out, this time successfully, with tears pouring down my cheeks, jumped in the car and headed home to curl up in a ball in the center of my room, possibly fall asleep there, that felt sufficiently dramatic.