Let's hope for the best

Chapter 10: Guilt

Slowly, Uni opened a whole new set of possibilities for me:

I was making friends that I actually liked.

Interesting people, that I liked to talk to.

I was out of my home so much, that my dad and wife didn't physically have time to beat me.

And even on weekends, they were acting differently.

Always detached, insulting.

But they did not touch me. Ever again.

I don't know why.

Because I was a grown up? Did they fear my reaction? Fear being reported?

I just know that they stopped.

That didn't make me feel any better, at first.

I just felt GUILTY.

Guilty, all day long.

Guilty for leaving my brother alone all day.

Guilty for taking their money- I felt no better than a prostitute.

I was selling myself.

Accepting money from those two monsters. Just to get what I wanted. To study, to go to Uni.

I was very enthralled by all the new things I was learning, the new people I was meeting.

But guilt never left me.

And I dealt with it the only way I knew: I cut myself.

Like crazy.

As if cutting my thighs to shreds would scrub away the guilt from me.

....

But life never stops, and my first year of Uni was going on.

I was so full of life- well, for my standards.

I did not think about death constantly: only often.

I cut myself and that made me feel alive, also.

And talking to people made me feel alive.

I even went on a few dates.

Of course, I did not like them.

I started asking myself even what "liking someone" actually meant.

I never liked someone. I never felt like I had a crush, or was attracted to someone.

Once, I went on a few dates with the same guy, a certain George: I had never lasted so long.

George was nice, really. Nice, just like Jasmine was.

Like, I wouldn't kiss him, or anything.

The mere thought grossed me out- but we eventually became friends.

He was one of my best friends through Uni.

Now he's married, and he and his wife are soon going to welcome their first child into the world.

....

I was starting to think I was asexual.

I did not like people, of any gender.

Of any kind.

It made sense, like. I had been severely depressed, my whole life. Lacking self-esteem. Lacking any desire for human connection. I felt too distant from everyone else... even my newfound Uni friends.

It made perfect sense to me.

Good: because I didn't really want a boyfriend, anyway.

I didn't want to end up like my mother: madly in love, then disrespected and forgotten, when another younger woman came along.

.....

I was thinking about that, probably, the day I was invited for a dinner at one of our friends' new apartment.

We were starting to create a small group of friends: it was me, Jasmine, George, and roughly 4 other people.

One of these friends, Max, had just rented a new apartment, and invited us over for a pizza.

The apartment was huge.

Falling to pieces and mouldy, I wouldn't be surprised if rats were infesting it.

But huge, so, a perfect gather-up place for penniless Uni students like us.

I was exploring the place, when I was introduced to Max's new roommate, a certain Theo.

Another med student, but one I hadn't met before.