Wacky Watermelon #3

“Thank you.”

There was something magical in those words at that moment. The feeling Liv got after hearing them from her broken and confused friend filled her up with so much love and compassion that she felt like she could take on the entire world and help mend all the people who hurt as deeply as her friend has hurt. The past cuts on Julia’s arm leave scars of remembrance. The memories of emotions too difficult to bear. Emotions needing to be cut out in order to survive. It was always difficult to look at the scars on Julia’s arms and not see her own failure as a friend in each and every one of them. Had Liv been the friend she thought she was maybe it wouldn’t have been necessary for those cuts to be there.

The rain outside pounded the hospital window. She could see the beginning cells of a powerful thunderstorm on the horizon and remembered a weather report in the car on the way to the hospital saying there was a 70% chance of thunderstorms later that afternoon and possibly the next morning. She wondered if the power would go out in the hospital as she looked back at Julia; back at all those scars on the inside and out, and struggled not to remember the nightmare that had brought them to this point.

She first met Julia six years ago in high school. They were both clumsy, awkward sophomores who were desperate to graduate so as not to face the same mundane environment day after day. There was something that drew her to Julia. They both played on the junior varsity soccer team, and she always used to wonder why Julia would wear sleeves whether it was cold or not.

“She must just get cold easily, I guess.”

They became fast friends, and while going to the local diner at four in the morning to eat their special Oreo pie and drink coffee or hanging out at the local pool house were always fun, Liv could tell there was more to her friend then meets the eye. As they became closer and closer, Julia would let little bits and pieces come out. In no discernable order really, and that was the way Julia intended it. As long as they came out fragmented, there was little chance Liv would put it all together.

But she did. Liv understood the hellish environment her friend grew up in before being whisked away by child services and placed with her grandparents. Julia’s grandparents remained comfortably aloof, never wanting to admit what actually took place. Liv was angry; so angry for her friend. She wanted to hurt the people responsible. But she couldn’t, so she did the next best thing. Continued to support an even closer friendship.

Liv often wondered whether she was doing enough. Today she realized that she really wasn’t. After she got the call that Julia was in the hospital and in serious condition, she could feel her heart tighten in her chest. It ached like the time she just played an entire half against their toughest rivals back in high school and her coach refused to sub her out because she was their best player. When she got there she asked what happened, but no one would say. In the back of her mind, she already knew. The doctor finally came out, and after realizing that Liv was the only one there who cared about the outcome of his new patient, he ambled over and simply said, “Julia attempted suicide tonight. She’s stable now, but still unconscious.”

“Can I see her?!?”

He must have sensed the guilt and pain in Liv’s eyes because after a long pause he said “I don’t see what harm it could do. Go ahead.”

Walking down the hallway looking for the door with 238C on it her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and painful and angry emotions.

“How could she do this?!?”

“Why couldn’t I help her?!?”

“Is this my fault?

“Am I a horrible friend for being angry?”

“Didn’t she know I would feel utterly guilty if she actually succeeded?!?

As she reached room 238C the final question that angrily raced through her head: “Why?!?!?”

When she walked in the room was dark. She could barely see Julia’s small frame on the hospital bed. Liv moved the oversized chair right next to the bed and sat down, looking at her friend’s face. Looking down she saw the gauze bandages on Julia’s wrists. A nurse came in and nonchalantly checked a couple of the things running directly into Julia’s body and then left just as quickly, shutting the door behind her. Liv doesn’t remember falling asleep. All she remembers is crying softly for the first time in years.

As Liv woke up, she recognized the faint light in the room as daylight and the steady pounding on the window as rain. Disoriented she realized she had left her contacts in due to the familiar dryness in her eyes. As she focused her eyes, she realized Julia was awake and had obviously been crying. Seeing how red her friend’s eyes were, she realized she had been crying hard and for a long time.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“I can’t believe you are here. Why are you here?”

“Because you are my best friend and I love you.”

The pause in the conversation seemed to go on for an eternity. She could see that Julia was trying to process what had just been said, and finally said, “I didn’t think anyone did. Thank you.”

It was in that moment that Liv realized she was the friend she thought she had been. Her mere presence, clumsily asleep in an oversized chair by Julia’s bedside, had been the one thing that had just given her friend a huge reason to live. A reason to keep trying. And Liv knew her friend well enough to know that Julia was going to try.

There’s no greater power than that.