Composition paper
Something terrible has just happened to me. I just discovered that the most important person in my life isn’t in it anymore. My girlfriend, whom I love very much, has just cheated on me with one of my best friends. I returned from Nicaragua to discover a letter waiting for me; a letter containing the worst news I have ever received.
Here I sit in the cold dampness of my basement bedroom with one sheet of notebook paper that has just turned my life upside down. My eyes are red and swollen from my tears. I can’t think straight, I can’t breathe, I can’t sleep, and I can’t eat. All day I’ve felt worse than I’ve ever felt before. It’s late, very late. My parents have all gone to sleep, even my insomniac friends have gone off to other things. The rain pounds against the small, ground level windows up on my walls. I lay on my bed next to a metal heat guard fro an old wood stove. The pouring rain is just barely drowned out by the heavy, angry tones of Atreyu, Cradle of Filth and Children of Bodom; my thoughts and feelings envelope me in a blanked of darkness.
I am thinking of the people who did this to me. My girlfriend Katy, someone I would have gone to the ends of the earth and beyond for; someone I loved more than life itself; someone I could see myself living the rest of my life with. And of course there’s Aaron, the hateful former friend who did this unforgivable act to me. As I think of him anger swells up inside me. Anger I have never before known, anger that I can only describe as pure unbridled fury. It deeply frightens me; I wonder what might happen if I saw him at this very moment. The fury builds up to the point where I can’t hold it in any longer. My fist lashes out at the nearest object, which happens to be the concrete wall next to my bed. I feel the impact of flesh and bone striking the concrete but strangely enough, no pain accompanies it. I lash out again and again, yet still, no pain.
I begin to read the letter once again. “Dear Matt, Something happened in Prague. Something I don’t expect to ever be forgiven for…” as I read on a deep dark sense of depression falls over me. I can feel the tears once again beginning to spill from my eyes and run down my cheek. This is confirmed by a wet droplet sound of a teardrop striking the paper. I look down and see not only teas marring the perfect surface of the sheet of paper. The tears are mixing with the blood dripping down from the knuckles of my right hand. I look at my hand and all I feel is sorrow. I feel no pain and no anger for hurting myself. I continue reading: “…I thought it would be best if you hear about this from me rather than other people. I also think it would be better for you to hear this sooner rather than later. I know this hurts you. It probably hurts even more than I think it does, but you have to believe me. I never intended this to happen. I never intended to cause you any of this mental and emotional anguish.” With these words a host of new tears and emotions well up. They are completely unexpected. The emotions that are following along with the tears are now love and joy. I’m realizing that she didn’t do anything to hide this; that she is flat out telling me this happened. With this realization comes another: I will not hate her for this, I can’t. My feelings for her continue. In the darkness of rage and sadness flowing through me, there is a light in the distance, a light brighter than the sun. That light is the burning love I still feel for her.
A saying pops into my mind. “It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” The person who came up with that one must have never felt true loss; loss of one so special and so close that you can’t imagine life without them. Once more my fist lashes out, and connects with the wall. There is a loud bang of the metal wall and my eyes pan over to the spot that I hit. I now have a long lasting reminder of this moment. Four short, parallel swaths of crimson now mar my bedroom wall. I must have stared entranced at them for quite a period of time. I’m awoken from my trance by the sound of my mother calling my name, asking if I’m all right. I yell out: “Yes mother. I’m fine.” The fury and sadness is clearly reflected in my voice. I can feel my throat constricting as a sob threatens to escape.
My mother appears at the bottom step of my stairway. She is clearly frightened. She has never seen me this way before, no one has. Not my family, not my friends, not the people I love, not even myself. As I explain things to my mother a strange sense of numbness falls over me, numbness to everything good life has to offer. Happiness, joy, enjoyment; everything seems so out of reach. All positive emotion seems to drain from my body. I realize now that I’ll never look at life quite the same way again. I realize that I will never be quite the same again, that something deep inside me has changed.