white knight syndrome
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xviii
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Always, he wonders why and how he has let four months — months increasingly distant from him—to affect him, to alter his life. But then, he might as well ask — as he often does — why he has let the first fifteen years of his life so dictate the past twenty-eight. He has been lucky beyond measure; he has an adulthood that people dream about: Why, then, does he insist on revisiting and replaying events that happened so long ago? Why can he not simply take pleasure in his present? Why must he so honor his past? Why does it become more vivid, not less, the further he moves from it?
— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life
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September
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October
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November
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Her mind is quiet for the first time in a long time.
It's as if Elsa had catastrophised the worst-case scenario her whole life, maybe even for forever, and now that it had finally come and passed, she realised there was nothing left to worry about. It happened, and that was that. In a way, it was cathartic, like reaching the final level of a particularly difficult, twisting game. She's not sure what exactly she won, but it was over. There was no secret ending, no rug pulled from under her.
Gone were the days of painstakingly dissecting every foolish mistake she had ever made; meticulously chronicling her embarrassments and endless worries, draining her energy when her body was already tired and her weary heart sought solace.
It's been months of radio silence and peace since her Summer internship. She's had time to digest what's happened instead of rushing into things head-on. She stopped chasing Hans (something Elsa wasn't even aware she was doing until Meg had pointed it out). It should have been obvious from the get-go, but Elsa couldn't face it. Initially resisting, trying to stay in the familiar bubble she knew (all that she's ever known, really) by prolonging the process and endlessly searching for some secret code. She was convinced that there must be a deeper meaning behind it all, and let her denial haunt her every waking moment, plaguing her mind to the point of insanity.
First, she looked for it in other people: Hans, the Westergaards, Meg. But when no one could give her what she wanted to hear, Elsa had an epiphany. She comprehended and realised that the only person who could truly tell her why she felt the way she did was herself.
And with that, Elsa finally ( finally) had an answer.
Now, she grants herself the luxury of a full night's rest while nestled in her cosy bed. Now, she does sing-alongs in the car while driving to the grocery store with Anna. Now, she openly laughs with Mulan, Tiana and Lottie when they meet up at the local mall.
With it being the new academic year and Autumn being the month of change, Elsa became kinder to herself; no longer trying to be perfect and allowing people to do things for her. Which, helps ease her, and heals her relationships.
Although still a horrible driver, Anna assigns herself the task of driving Elsa back to university for her final year. In the car, they talked in ways the platinum blonde did not think they could. Elsa finally opens up after keeping to herself all these years.
"Anna?"
"Yeah?"
"I have to tell you something."
"Something ... serious?"
"Yes. It's something serious. Something … about me."
Slowly, Anna nods. "Okay, I'm all ears."
Elsa nods back. For as long as she could remember, she had been caught in this cycle of uncertainty. It seemed like every time she wanted to speak, fear would smack her in the face, leaving her reeling.
But, today, she isn't going to be afraid anymore. She's taking the necessary steps to overcome her long-standing anxiety.
"When you were five, and I was eight, an accident happened. We were playing in the snow. We were only having fun. Nobody was supposed to get hurt, I didn't mean for anything bad to happen, but you got rushed into the A because of me, and this took a hit on our family,"
She paused to swallow the lump in her throat.
"I was terrified of making mistakes after that, so much so that I became paralysed with any decision left to me," Elsa confesses further. "My inability to just do the simplest things — anything, actually — made me feel useless. But even when I absolutely had to take action, I would find myself stalling. I bombarded myself with countless secret obstacles. I questioned a lot of my actions and told myself that I needed to have all the facts straight. I couldn't afford to mess up again. There was no room for errors because … if I did, if I repeated the past … it would only prove something; the nagging that I've avoided all these years."
That she couldn't be trusted around people.
"Did Mama and Papa know about this?" Anna's question is directed towards Elsa, though the platinum blonde notes that her sister's teal eyes never leave the road. Her freckled hands were pale white and knuckling hard at the steering wheel.
"Yes," Elsa admits, feeling her chest tighten. "And they encouraged it. They told me not to tell you. They told me to conceal and not let it show,"
For what feels like all of her life, her dead parents had supported her overly cautious lifestyle. They seem to think her pushing people away was the right answer, fueling Elsa's fear and pain.
Deep down, she longed for change, but the overwhelming apprehension caused her to hesitate, second-guess herself and incessantly ensure everything was flawless.
"Is this okay?"
"Are you sure?"
"What do you mean?"
Nervous questions piled up after nervous questions. Elsa stopped trusting herself. Instead making the end goal of her every action to be faultless. Because if it didn't go perfectly, then that means everything would go wrong, can go wrong, will go wrong. And that just means she's failed again. That just means she's a failure.
(However, Elsa supposes she was also procrastinating. That's a classic symptom of anxiety, isn't it? He said it to her; that she never does anything. She just waits and waits and waits until it blows up in her face.)
So that became a bad habit too; to want to control every small outcome, micro-manage every fortune life threw at her.
The sisters had pulled over at a rest stop not even half an hour into the journey, arms wrapped around a sister's freckled shoulders as they hugged and left tear stains.
"You kept this all to yourself?" Anna cries. "Oh, Elsa, I'm so sorry our parents made you feel that way for so long!"
It breaks Elsa's heart hearing this, the confirmation that Adgar and Idunna had wronged their daughter.
"Why now?" Anna asks, sniffling. "Why are you telling me now?"
Well …
Their Mama and Papa died years ago. Really, if there was a right time to tell Anna, it would have been the same year their parents passed, but …
Elsa had told herself (or maybe it was her horrid depression?) that nobody wanted nor needed to hear her blubbering, messy history. Picturing the scenario like this: She would confess in a shuttering manner and the person on the other end wouldn't understand her. Elsa would expect them to ask her to repeat herself and then she'd just break down even more because — God, then she'd have to relive that moment all over again, wouldn't she? She'd have to picture the trauma in her head. Picture the moment she disappointed and let down everyone, the moment she would have to piece together a story even she doesn't understand. Questions would come in waves. Why did it happen to her and why can't she get over it?
Ever since Elsa was eight years old, a persistent inner voice had convinced her that she deserved to be treated poorly. For more than a decade, the platinum blonde was frozen, stuck in this conflict … until someone came knocking, forcing her to open her door.
Although Elsa's wound still stings when prodded, and her emotions are multifaceted when it comes to Johansen Westergaard, he achieved something that no one has managed to do in Elsa's life. He looked at her, peered into her insecurities, dug them up and forced her to confront them with his sharp tongue to snap her out of her delusions.
When Hans had asked her, "What are you so afraid of?", the question clung onto her until this very moment when she could finally muster the courage to admit the truth. There was no use in suppressing her emotions. Not after watching it manifest and sprung itself; lurking beneath the surface, impacting her behaviour and causing her to become closed off and nervous.
She had always been aware of it. The source of her fear isn't unknown. Elsa's been afraid of herself since that horrible Winter day — because hurting the closest person to her without meaning to led Elsa to believe she was dangerous and a hazard. She could hurt again if she's not careful, not perfect. Why burden another conscious living being?
So, the answer is: She's afraid of herself.
Afraid she'll hurt Anna.
It's always been this way.
Elsa had battled with the feeling of guilt over causing Anna pain and the feeling of disappointment for not being able to be honest with Anna, despite her desire to be a part of her little sister's life and vice versa. Elsa told herself it was best to maintain her distance, but that only made it more challenging to confide and open up about all her heartache.
It was about Anna.
… And then it wasn't.
And then it became about her — Elsa.
Voices that mimicked her parents' told her that she deserved every bad emotion (all the self-loathing, the anxiety, depression and the pity that came with her stunted self). But then Hans happened. And something about the way he treated her made Elsa realise that — No. No, this needs to stop.
The mistreatment made her question her own self-deception. Elsa couldn't help but wonder why she believed such nonsense and allowed herself to be fooled by such a destructive belief. It hit her like a ton of bricks that the main reason she wasn't happy was because she held herself down: replaying her failures and counting her problems (most of which stuck around because of her own self-sabotage). She was her own wall, locking herself up in this mental prison. She would routinely mope around, panicking and thinking there was no way out, but the truth is: no one was keeping her.
What exactly is she even winning by staying in a mentality that stunts growth in the wellness of emotion and physicality and mentally? What does she gain by limiting and trapping her mind? Being cruel to herself by beating herself up for not being better and living up to impossible standards? She knows she likes knowledge, her inquisitive nature proves it, but she's wasting it on the wrong questions aimed at the wrong topics.
Elsa absolutely did not deserve to be trampled down in life when living is hard as it currently is. She was already thrown towards death at an early age; almost losing her only sibling and then being orphaned, so why add to the struggle?
What does she achieve by mingling with someone like Hans? The lying and dishonesty were components that were strikingly unhealthy. His actions woke her up and flipped a switch in her that made her emotionally detach from all the absurdity.
Finally, she opened the door, looked around those four-corners she built, stepped outside, and decided it was time.
She is ready to let go.
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But, of course, some things — people — insist on holding on.
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Her phone screen blinks at her and Elsa blinks her glacier blue eyes back at the single text sent by Meg.
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Joe is looking for you.
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Notes: Happy three year anniversary to me fucking off and disappearing
To summarise why I've been unable to write this chapter, I basically didn't have experience in the healing process of being burned by someone like Hans. Firstly because I've never gotten hurt to Elsa's extreme, and secondly because it sounded so messy that I truly didn't think anyone could come back from such a betrayal!
I kept turning the idea of "getting over the pain" around and around in my head, and my draft went through so many versions until I realised it was all wrong cause the drafts looked for an answer in Hans when he was never Elsa's solace to begin with.
Special thanks to my wifey, Liho, who never gave up on me continuing this fic. I love you, babe
— 25 August 2023