— LISA
..
"Where the hell is she?" I mumble under my breath, pacing up and down the narrow hallway. The screams and sounds of items crashing and breaking ring loud and clear from behind my apartment door. So far three neighbors have stepped out to complain and said if I don't get her to stop, then they're calling the cops. I gave them my fucking death glare, and they stepped back into their apartments without another word.
I huff out in relief when Rosé—in her sleepwear—storms down the hallway. She narrows her eyes as she passes me. Without a single word spoken, she enters my apartment, shutting the door behind her.
Silence.
It's like clockwork. I don't fucking understand it. What am I doing wrong?
Forty minutes later Rosé steps out. "She's sleeping now," she says, deadpan. Then she moves to walk away.
"I'm sorry," I say. Because there is nothing else I can say.
She turns around, her features distort into anger, and then she steps forward until she's front and center. "Six times this month, Lisa. Six times!" she stresses. "I can't keep taking midnight runs over here every time Jennie has a breakdown."
"I'm trying."
"No, you're not! I told you what's best for her, but you're so against it. She needs help, Lisa."
My nostrils flare. "I am helping her."
"Keeping her locked in this apartment"—she points toward my closed door—"with no medication and no therapy is not helping her. She just remembered that she witnessed her sister being brutally attacked, that she was almost raped as well. That's not even a trigger, that's a fucking nuclear bomb that just exploded in her world, and that's why she's been getting worse."
"Then get her medication."
She laughs, shaking her head at my ridiculousness. I know I am, but I'm desperate. "She needs them prescribed."
I shut my heavy eyes. This past month has been fucking hard. I've never felt this lost in my life. I want to help her, I just don't know how. It's as if she's hanging from the edge of a cliff and I'm the one holding on to her hand. She's begging for me to help her, to not let go, and I'm fucking trying the best I can. But she's slowly slipping.
Every time I think of what happened to Jennie and Jisoo I get pissed off all over again. "I wish I could find the bastards who did this and kill each one of them. I swear to God I would, Rosé."
Rosé looks down. Her shoulders deflate as she crosses her arms over her chest. "I would too. I just keep telling myself they'll get what's coming to them someday." She shakes her head, disgusted with it all. Then she looks up at me, a pathetic smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.
"Look at you. You look like shit. You don't have to do this," she says.
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
"Because I love her."
"So do I," she says. "And because of that we need to get her the best help right now."
My shoulders drop. "I promised her I wouldn't give up. Every time I suggest that maybe she should get help, she thinks I'm giving up on her, and then she spazzes out."
Rosé reaches both hands up and grips my shoulders. I look at her. "I'm not going to lie to you. She's going to hate you at first. She'll even refuse to see you in the beginning. And it's the worst feeling. You'll feel guilty that you may have done something wrong, that you didn't try hard enough. But that won't be true. And when she's treated and better, she'll thank you. Trust me."
I swallow hard, nodding. "Okay."
Rosé lets out a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I'll call you tomorrow. You can meet with her father and me and then we'll set it all up. You're doing the right thing, Lisa."
I nod. If this is the right thing, then why do I feel like shit right now?
..
"Let me have ten minutes with her before you come in," I say. They nod. I step out of the car, knowing this is it. There's no turning back. I'm going to break the heart of the one person I love.
With each step I take, my chest rips open a little more. How does someone look in the eyes of the person they love and say good-bye? Is this even love? I'm going to break her heart, tear it right out of her chest, because I claim to love her so much. How do I explain the reason why I'm going to hurt her? That it's what's best for her?
The reality is I can't help her. No matter where we are—whether it's the lake house or in our own little world in my shitty apartment—it doesn't help. No matter how hard I try, I can't help her. She needs more than what I can offer.
I swallow back the nerves lodged in my throat and open the door leading to my fate.
Jennie's in the kitchen by the stove, her back facing me. I look around. My eyes scan the table filled with pots, pans, and food remnants. The counter is just about the same. The fridge door is open and a gallon of milk is spilling out all over the floor. I step forward, my boots squishing against the spilled liquid. Jennie spins around, spatula in hand. "You scared me!" She jumps, a smile settling on her face.
"What's going on here?" I ask, taking in the mess.
"I wanted to make you something special to apologize about last night, and I didn't know what to make. At first I was thinking of a cake, but you didn't have any baking pans, and then I thought of something healthy, but there's nothing healthy in the fridge. And I forgot how to get to the supermarket." She shakes her head. "I didn't want to leave the house anyway, so I settled for pancakes, but I couldn't find the pan to cook it on, so I searched all over until—"
"Jennie," I cut off her rambling. "It's fine." I take two steps, stand the milk container back up in the fridge, and step over the contents spilled on the floor.
"What are you doing?" she asks, her eyes roaming over me as I remove the spatula from her hand and turn off the gas range.
"We need to talk."
"I know. I'm sorry about last night. I promise I'll get better. It's just some days are really bad, and I don't know how to control them. I promise, Lisa, I'll get better." She reaches her hand to my face, pulling my stare from the counter to look at her face. I was trying to avoid making eye contact. I knew it'd be difficult.
I wet my lips nervously. "I'm so sorry."
"For what?"
My lips crush into hers. I pull her in, kissing her hard. "I'm sorry," I mumble over her mouth.
Jersey Girl tries to pull away from my hold, her eyes wide "What are you talking about?"
I silence her again, tasting her, devouring every bit of her mouth before she leaves, before she'll never speak to me again.
"Lisa!" She pushes at my chest. I stumble back, my breathing heavy. Her eyes are zoomed in on me. "What are you sorry about?"
I raise my hands to caution her. "Before I tell you, please let me explain that I'm only looking out for your best interest."
Jennie shifts, her mouth slightly open as if reading my mind. "What did you do?" I shake my head and step forward. "No. What did you do, Lisa?" My gaze shifts to the curtain. Her eyes leave mine, lingering over the window. Her chest expands, and then she looks at me again. "You didn't," she pleads. Jennie storms over to the window. Flinging back the curtain, she looks out. "No. No. Lisa. Why? Why would you call them?"
"Jennie, you need help. More than I can give you."
She marches over, her fingers digging into her chest as if her heart hurts. Tears forming in her beautiful eyes, she cries, "Please don't do this. I beg you, please. I need you, Lisa. I don't need them. You have to believe me, I'll get better…" I feel small and pathetic. She's begging me not to send her away. The pain in her voice and in her eyes stabs at my chest, breaking me apart.
My vision blurs as I fight back my own tears. "I'm sorry, Jennie. I… I… dammit!… you need this."
She lifts a hand. "No!" Tears streaming down her cheeks, she yells, "I can't believe you're doing this to me. You said you'd never give up on me." Her voice sounds rough through hard sobs.
Fuck. I feel useless. My chest feels heavy. I step forward and grip her face with my hands. Hoarsely I say, "I'm not giving up on you, Jennie. I will never give up on you. I love you. I'm only helping you."
Her features fill with pain and her lip quivers as she shakes her head. "How can you say you love me but hurt me at the same time? If you loved me so much, I wouldn't feel this broken."
"Jennie." My eyes scan her face. I'm hurting her. "I'll always love you." Her eyes shut tight and her body quivers as she lets out hard sobs.
The front door opens. Jennie's father and Rosé storm through along with an assistant. I pull Jennie into me for one last hold, but I don't want to let go.
What am I doing?
This is ridiculous. She's fine. She can get better with me. "I changed my mind," I say, my words muffled against Jennie's hair while her face buries into my chest.
She clings to me. "Don't let them take me. Please," she cries out.
"Jennie, you need help," Rosé says.
No, this wrong.
"Let go of her, Lisa," her father urges.
"We'll probably need to sedate her if she doesn't cooperate," the assistant says.
"No!" Jennie lets out, her fingers digging into my flesh.
I look all around. Everyone's talking at once. Jennie whimpers. I shake my head. "No. Just leave. I made a mistake."
The assistant grips Jennie's left arm. "Take her other arm, Mr. Kim." Jennie's father grips her right arm and they both try to pull her away from me. Jennie looks up at me, waterworks flowing. She tries to hold onto me for dear life.
"Lisa… Lisa," I look at Mr. Kim. "You're only making things worse. Trust me. You're doing the right thing. She needs to get better. Don't you want her better?"
I look down at Jennie, her head shaking furiously for me not to let go. But I don't see my Jersey Girl anymore. All I see is a sick girl. One with dark circles around her sunken eyes, one with pale skin, and one who's almost skin and bones from lack of nourishment. And as much as she's still beautiful to me, she's not Jersey Girl anymore.
I let go.
"NO!" She screams, shouts, kicks, and swings. She tries her hardest to tear away from their hold, but they pull her down to the floor. "Get off me, get off me. No!"
I stumble back and watch as it all takes place in slow motion. The assistant pulls out a needle, stabs Jennie in the arm, and pumps her with a clear liquid. I grip my head. What the fuck have I done?
"No… No… Noo…" Jennie mumbles, then her eyes shut.
Everything else is a blur. They carry her outside. Rosé pats my shoulder and tells me I did the right thing. They drive away.
And I'm just here.
In my apartment right back at a fucking standstill.
..
..
— JENNIE
Love is the devil in disguise. They sweeps in and seduces you when you're at your weakest, when you've lost all hope. But they gives you a sense of want and desire. They whispers sweet words, wrapping you into a world of existence, because before Love, you didn't exist. Then, when you give in fully, when you're lost in Love and when they has you exactly where they wants you, they takes over completely, possessing your mind, body, and soul.
That's when they snatches your heart, rips it to shreds, and leaves you with nothing left to give.
Lisa was Love. She was the devil in disguise. She gave me everything I wanted and more, and then she ripped it away.
Just. Like. That.
I allowed myself to get lost in her. I believed every single word she said.
For what?
Nothing.
Because eventually, she gave up on us.
"How are you feeling today, Jennie?"
I continue to stare out the window. This new doctor should know how I feel. What's the point at explaining, anyway?
He goes on, "Do you know how long you've been in here?"
"Twenty-six days."
"That's right. Twenty-six days, Jennie. Don't you want to get better so you can go home?"
I turn my head and stare blankly at him. "What's the point?" I shrug.
"What do you mean?"
I stand, "No one wants me at home. I'm a burden. So what's the point?" I turn, walking out the door and into the rec room with the other patients.
..
This is the first time in the eight weeks that I've been here that I've agreed to meet with my visitors. My father tried to visit, but I just couldn't bear to see the disappointment on his face. Lisa tried, but I definitely couldn't see her. Period. My mother hasn't bothered. She was called in to have a therapy session with me and she refused.
I walk into the visiting area. My eyes scan the room until I spot Rosé. I walk over and take a seat on the couch across from her. She smiles.
"You look so good, Jennie."
"Thanks." I swallow back a sob. It's been two months since I've seen her and I miss her so much. "You do too."
Her smile softens. "How are you doing?"
I shrug. "Okay, I guess."
She nods. "That's great. Really great."
"You?"
"Oh, I'm okay. I found work in the city. You are looking at the new fashionista for an up-and-coming small magazine. They want me to find all of the latest fashion trends. Can you believe it?"
I wish I could jump for joy for my friend. That is what I feel right now—pleasure for her—but I just can't find the motivation to show it. "That's awesome."
"Listen, your father and I were talking and we thought maybe when you get out of here, you and I can share an apartment. Maybe in the city? Get a fresh start? You could go back to school, while I focus on my new job. It could be fun."
"Yeah. Sounds fun," I say, knowing it's not going to happen. I'm never getting out of here because I'm never getting better.
"Jennie," She leans in, "I miss you."
I nod, sniff back the tears, and look out the window. "Yeah, that's nice."
"Lisa misses you too." She had to go there. My chest aches and suddenly it's difficult to breathe. "She asked me to give you something."
I tilt my head to look at her. She digs into her purse and pulls out a small yellow gift bag—one of the ones I'd given her. My lips tremble as I see it dangle from her fingertips. I don't move or reach for it, so instead she places it down on the table between us. She digs into her purse again and removes an envelope, placing it beside the gift bag.
"I'll just leave it here. You can open it whenever you're ready." She stands from her seat. "Jennie?" I look up at her. "You really do look good. Think about what I said. You can start fresh. A clean slate."
I nod. Then she turns and walks away. I stare at the door she exited for what seems like a long time, wishing she'd come back, but she never does.
Then I stare at the small yellow bag and envelope for the rest of my visiting hour. When time is up, I pick both up and take them with me to my room. I sit cross-legged in the middle of my bed as I continue to stare at both side-by-side.
Finally, I dig into the bag and pull out a small box. A tiny tug pulls at the corner of my lip. The box is wrapped in newspaper. Tearing it open, I flip the lid and remove a necklace. Hanging from the silver chain is a clear locket with floating charms in it. I shake the locket, scattering the charms so I can have a better look at each one.
Still holding the locket in my hand, I grab the envelope and remove a letter. My throat closes and my chest tightens at just reading the first two words. I can hear her saying them. Then I keep reading.
Jersey Girl,
I'm probably the last person you ever want to see again, let alone read a letter from, but I figured it's worth a shot. I just hope you can find it in your heart to fully read this letter before throwing it away.
I know you feel as if I have given up on you, and for a while I thought maybe I had. But the more I think of it, the more I know I was never giving up. Instead it was the complete opposite. I'd never thought I would fall in love, but you changed that for me. I now know that it's possible for anyone to feel and be loved. Even if it was just for the short summer we had together, you have no idea how much you changed my life. You saved me from the standstill I lived in for so long. I truly feel my purpose was to find you, and if we never see one another again, I know loving you was the reason I was given a second chance at life.
You have given me so much, and for that I want to give you something in return. If you haven't already opened the present, you'll find a locket with a few charms. Each one represents what I want to give to you and what I hope for you in life:
The coin with the word 'believe' inscribed on it, represents my hope that one day you can believe in yourself and your talents just as much as I do.
The paintbrush charm signifies the hope that when you do paint again, you'll capture every moment, both good and bad, and every emotion without feeling stuck or shoving them away. If you can do that, Jersey Girl, you can paint the world.
The heart-shaped charm symbolizes my love for you and the love we shared. As long as you want it, my heart will always be yours. But most of all, I hope that you can learn to love yourself. You will never know how special and beautiful and intelligent you are until you can love the person I fell in love with.
And lastly, the yellow stone charm reflects the light you shine on so many lives, mine included. And I hope that no matter how many demons you struggle with, you will always find your way out of the dark.
I love you, Jersey Girl.
Always,
Lisa
Tears are freely flowing down my cheeks as I try to blink them away. With one hand I grip the letter, allowing the words to wrap around and soothe my heart. With my other hand I clench my fingers around the locket, forming a fist and bringing it to my chest.
The last three months we shared together begin to whirl in my head: me flowing beneath the water in the pool, the first time I saw her blue eyes when she jumped in after me, our first kiss on the porch, the day I ran away and she found me on the street corner barefoot, weekends at the lake house sitting together on the dock, us laying by the lake watching the stars.
My thoughts continue, lingering briefly on each memory. The park. The laughs. The hugs. The special Lisa kisses. The day I realized I fell in love with her. The day I told her about my illness. The day she accepted me—all of me. The first time we made love. The fear I felt when she moved me in with her. The day I thought she'd given up—my hand reaching for her, begging her not to let them take me away. The look of fear and confusion in her eyes after realizing what she'd done.
And now.
This.
The letter. The locket.
Through it all, I still love her. I will always love her, but she's right. I need to learn how to love myself before I can fully love her.
I can slowly work on it.
Starting with today.
..
..
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