"i'm the ghost of a girl that i want to be most"

...

I feel so hopeless again.

It's not the feeling I had that night I cried so much. And it's different from when I thought Victoria betrayed me. It's just an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, one that drowns everything else out and doesn't leave.

I've had this before. For no reason, and no way to explain it other than hopelessness.

I know I should be happy. Victoria and I are friends again. I know I can count on Sera, too. I should be doing better than ever.

I'm not. In fact, I'm doing worse than ever.

Cal hasn't been talking to me. I don't really mind. What I do mind is the fact that I haven't tried to talk to him. I haven't made any effort to reach out, and I'm hurting him.

I don't mean to hurt him. But right now I don't have the strength or energy to do anything about it.

Things are supposed to get better. There's supposed to be a happy ending. I'm supposed to get over this. Everyone tells me that it gets better, it gets better, just you wait, everything will be okay. But nothing is. How long am I supposed to wait?

I'm not making any progress. I'll think that I am, and then something will set me back. Back and forth. I keep moving, but I'm just going in circles. I'm lost, and I don't know where to go. If this is a forest, I've lost my mind in it. I'll think that I'm out of the woods, and then I take a wrong turn somehow and end up back in it.

And I dream about years from now, when I'm finally free. When I've finally found my way and can sleep without my thoughts being as sharp as the edge of the knife I'm walking on. But dreaming of it doesn't do anything. Because I know that if I keep going on like this, I won't get that dream. I can wish about it, think about it, but it's never going to be real.

Real. What is real? I can't tell the difference between what's real and what's fake anymore. And for once, I just want something real. Not something I write about, or something I draw. Not something in my head. Something that I can depend on. Something I can hold, that won't let me down. But trying to hold on to something is like chasing dust particles. You think you've got it, but then it slips away. Nothing lasts. 

I won't last.

One day I'll be nothing but a faded memory, a wisp of something that was once there but is gone now. One day I won't exist. I'm fading away, but we all are. I'm just fading faster than most people do. 

I'm faded. I won't exist much longer. I'm just a ghost of the girl I used to be, a whisper of who I've always wanted to be. But I'm not gone yet. 

I just need to hold on a little longer. Just a little more, and then I'll... I don't know. I'll figure something out. But I need to hold on until I can figure that out. 

I can't help but feel a little hopeful now. I gave up on hoping a while ago, since it's so futile and only leads to disappointment. But maybe I'll try hoping again. It's not as if I have anything left to lose.

Maybe I'll actually ask for help. Maybe I'll actually do something healthier. The thought of it scares me beyond belief, but it's clear that whatever I'm doing now isn't working. I need to end this cycle. Something has to change.

My phone rings. It's Cal. I think about all the missed calls and unanswered texts, and I pick up. 

"Hazel?" he asks, sounding astonished that I actually answered. I wince a little. I don't mean to be cruel to him. I just can't handle talking to him at all. It's nothing personal.

"Hi," I say, for lack of a better word. "What's up?"

He laughs, but it's not a cheerful laugh. And that's when I truly know how infuriated he is with me. "You don't answer my calls for weeks and barely talk to me at school, and all you can say is 'what's up?'"

"I also said hi," I say meekly. 

He snorts. "Hazel, you can't do this. I have no idea what you're doing, playing around like this. If you're sick of me, then tell me. You can't just ignore me and then pick up the phone out of the blue. Relationships are built on communication, and you don't seem to get that. Everything used to be perfect. What happened?"

"I'm sorry," I tell him. What else can I say? 

This was doomed from the start. It had been refreshing to talk to someone without expectations. And... it was nice having someone. If I was asked why I liked Cal, I'd probably say something about how funny he is, or how he is popular because he's one of the people you can never seem to hate, not because he's a jerk. And that's true. I do like him because of that. But... romantically? That's entirely different.

Truth be told, I liked dating him because he always made me think I was special. It felt like I was really in one of my stories. I liked being held. I liked the late-night calls and texts and feeling like I mattered. It was never about him. It was about how he made me feel.

And as for why he liked me? I think he liked dating someone who wasn't super popular, someone who wasn't caught up in all that drama. I've always longed for something real. Maybe I was one of the few real people in his life, the people he could talk to about real things. I think he liked me because I was real, not because of anything else.

"Cal, I... I've been dealing with so much right now that I haven't really been talking to anyone. I wish I could tell you more. This is unfair to you. But it's nothing against you. I... I love you." I swallow, hoping I have the strength to deliver the next words. "But... I don't love you the way you want me to. We don't love each other the way we should. I've been lying to myself for so long. But I have to be honest now, and..." I trail off. I can't break up with him right now. I won't be the jerk who breaks up with someone over the phone. "We need to talk. In real life, face to face. Are you free right now?"

"Yeah. Where do you want to meet?" He was angry, but now he's just calm. He knows what's about to happen, too. He's been wrestling with the same truths for a while now. It's almost funny, how we can still understand each other so well. 

"I'll see you in ten minutes," I tell him. "You know where. Where everything started."