Attention; Ignored

Your life isn't your relationship.

"I'm depressed," she says.
I open the cabinets, rummaging for random food items. I manage to snag a bag of fatty chips, and rip open the bag. An explosion of processed potato snacks falls to the floor.
"Uh huh," I say, squatting onto my knees, desperately trying to gather the crumbs before my dog comes to gobble it up into pieces. Whenever I find a chip that's not covered in dirt, I shove it in my mouth.
"Like, my parents are always fighting and s**t! And, I've gained five pounds! FIVE POUNDS, Jeremy! I can feel my pants getting tighter!"
"That's cool," I say, not even hearing whatever Nikki's blabbering about.
"No it's totally not!" she says at a piercing volume. It wasn't cool? Oh, crap. What was she even talking about? Shopping?
"You do not look fat!" I say, using my generic response to any of her whines.
She giggles. "Thanks, Jeremy!" Score one for me. She's sitting on my counter, swinging her legs back and forth; studying her nails with some Spanish manicure. Or was it French manicure? Whatever.

  "Dude, why are you even dating her?" Case asks me when we're walking home.
  "She's hot?" I offer.
  "And you're shallow. Perfect match," he says.
  "Hey, when I get out of high school I'll date all of the smart, cute-sy chicks college has to offer. But right now, Nikki is just fine."
  He rolls his arm in the usual Case way, and crosses his arms condescendingly. "Whatever."
  I punch him lightly. "You're a d****e."

  It doesn't help that she's totally obsessed. I have to prevent myself from rubbing my face in frustration each time she doodles another J+N=Forever! on her paper. It's sort of exhausting. She holds hands with me in the hallways and passes little notes to me in class. Whenever I compliment her she get's this doe look on her face and completely swoons. Girls are sort of idiots.
  "Anyways, I've been cutting myself to get their attention," she says casually.
  Whoawhoawhoa, wait, what?
 "That's stupid," I say.
 "What?" she says, spinning around.
 "That's stupid," I repeat. "Harming yourself just for some attention? You know, talking to them works too. And less painful."
 "You don't know what you're talking about!" she protests. "I know what I'm doing!"
 "No you don't. Sure, maybe self-pain sure grabs some attention, but it doesn't solve any problems."
 "It makes my parents stop fighting."
 I cram more chips in my mouth.
 "Not necessarily. Your parents might fight more. Blaming one another for your craziness. It's a stupid plan," I say.
 She starts tearing up. Crap. "But, but, but!"
 "Look..."
 "YOU'RE SUCH AN A*****E!" she shouts, and quickly looks around for something to throw at me. She settles on a butter knife, and tosses it sloppily near my head.
 "Oh, s**t!" I yell. "Look, Nikki, I think we need some time apart..."
  Perfect timing, I think sarcastically. She growls, literally growls, in rage. She collapses into tears, but her fists are still balled up. I try to approach her, but she lashes out her claws, nails raking my face.
  I stagger back, clutching my bleeding face. "Holy s**t!" I say again. "What a b***h!"
 She storms out the door with a hearty slam.
  I sink to the floor, crushing more chips with my a*s.
  What just happened?


  One week, four days later.

  Nikki dies. She cut her wrists in a bathtub, just kept cutting and cutting. Didn't know when to stop. Everyone keeps crying and sobbing, wearing black and remembering how beautiful she was.
 I don't remember her ever talking to these people.
 She only had that one clique of friends, then millions of virtual ones.
 People keep saying nice, generic things about her.
 I lock myself in the bathroom, and sit on the toilet in one of the stalls. I bury my head in my hands.
 Nikki wasn't anything special. That kills me inside that I'm realizing that.
 She wore makeup and giggled loudly and had boy band posters plastered on walls.
 She craved attention.
 She certainly got it.
 In my pocket is the crumpled up note she wrote hastily before taking her own life.

   Dear Jeremy-
  I still love you. I can't breathe without you. I don't want to breathe without you. You were my everything. I wrote so much poetry when we broke up; it's under my bed if you want to read it. Our love was my everything. Without it I will be nothing. I am nothing.
  Goodbye.

  F****r. I reopen it and reread it thrice a day. I have no idea how to respond.
 But now, while I'm staring at the grime of bathroom floor tiles, I know. I tear out a paper from my binder paper; produce a pencil from my jacket pocket.
 Then I write.

 Dear Nicole-
  We dated for two weeks, for chris sakes. We broke up because you were completely psycho and kind of an attention w***e. You weren't special, and our relationship was never going to be special. You are an idiot. You needed help. That help wasn't me. I'm going to be fine, but you never will be.
   Jeremy.

Author's Note

Okay, you know what? I know that was a harsh last words. But I am honestly sick of girls like this. Don't depend your life on a relationship, ladies. Please, it's not worth it. You will be fine if the guy isn't "the one". Self-harm is never the answer to a break up, and will certainly not persuade the guy to love you again. A cold splash of water in your face is what you need, not a million friends patting your shoulder and feeding you chocolates, ignoring the hard stuff of your depression.

Reviews

[Bella-Marie]

What an amazing story! So well written and a very true plot. I loved how you only gave away bits of information at a time which made it addictive and I couldn't stop reading. You told of so many people out there - girls with bad selfesteem, guys with s****y girlfriends, guys with friends who have s****y girlfriends - and did it in an amazing way. WELL DONE.

[roarke]

alas, the culture, society has become a mob of enablers. Beware the enablers.
Nice observational write, fleshy characters.

Making a statement, getting your point across and infusing it with passion is always difficult. Don't worry about the words or how harsh others feel they are. Cut through the mixed messages with truth. Understand societal nurturing is an every generation process. If the process atrophies or is interrupted then the process has to start over, painstakingly, with unflinching responsibility and unconditional care.

then maybe, just maybe these aberrant behaviors would disappear.
tell the stories.