Brightly Grim

John: Swimming In Marshmallow

"John?!"

I snap out of an ultrarealistic dream of swimming in marshmallow, my hazy vision adjusting to the sight of Lucy and Stephanie standing over me. Their concerned faces hover above, and ease when I meet their prying eyes.

Once they ascertain that I am awake, their attention shifts to the slumbering figures of Lora and Damien on the sunbed. Their sleeping forms seem peaceful, undisturbed by the chaos that has consumed the night. Stephanie takes charge, gently nudging the couple awake, her voice infused with a blend of urgency and tenderness.

"Lora, Damien, wake up," she softly implores, her voice echoing with a touch of concern. Lucy joins her, assisting in rousing the drowsy couple from their slumber. Together, they guide in the house.

Left alone once again, I find myself pondering whether this momentary tranquility will persist. Is this a fleeting respite or the calm before another storm? The question lingers, teasing the edges of my consciousness.

But before I can truly sink into my thoughts, Lucy's voice breaks through the silence, interrupting my contemplation.

"Can we talk?" She asks, not without uncertainty. Knowing Lucy, the matter must be of great importance; she's not one to ask for attention so directly.

I nod, acknowledging her request, though a sense of trepidation tugs at my weary mind.

"How have you been?" Lucy's voice is laced with a mix of genuine concern and underlying hesitance. Her eyes search mine, seeking a glimpse of the truth hidden beneath my weary facade.

I sigh, my voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "I know it was you who slipped me the Ketamine," I respond, my accusation clear. There's no need for pretense or small talk.

The guilt flickers briefly in Lucy's eyes before she squares her shoulders, mustering the courage to continue. "Did you ever love me?" Her question hangs in the air, vulnerable yet demanding an honest answer.

I meet her gaze, her eyes reflecting a whirlpool of emotions.

"The fact that I'm willing to entertain this conversation right now should be proof enough," I reply, my voice tinged with a mix of longing and frustration. The depth of our history cannot be denied, even amidst the wreckage of our past.

Curiosity colors Lucy's expression as she probes further. "What's so special about this time?" Her question holds a genuine desire to understand the forces at play.

I draw a breath, collecting my thoughts amidst the chaos within. "Cassie and I had a fight. And then Jessica and I had a fight," 

A furrow creases Lucy's brow. "What did they fight with you about?"

I shrug, a mixture of frustration and confusion bubbling to the surface. "I'm not entirely sure, their sudden animosity seems to have a lot to do with you showing up." I respond, the exasperation seeping into my voice.

Lucy's retort is swift, her words tinged with skepticism. "Can you prove it, or is it just like your Ketamine claims?" Her eyes search mine, challenging me to offer tangible evidence.

A touch of weariness settles upon me as I contemplate her question. "Everyone was magically not getting pissed at me before you showed up,"

"But that makes the evidence circumstantial at best."

I raise an eyebrow. "So, who's going to be the judge of that?"

Lucy shrugs nonchalantly, her response carrying a hint of resignation. The weight of our unresolved issues hangs heavy in the air. "I guess it's up to God, or in your case, up to Cassie," she replies, her words punctuated with a note of uncertainty.

A sudden laugh escapes my lips, a mixture of amusement and bitterness. The absurdity of it all is not lost on me.

Lucy's voice grows serious as she continues, her gaze unwavering. "How you look up to Cassie is anything but a joke," she asserts, her words laden with a truth she believes to be self-evident.

I shrug, a sense of bewilderment washing over me. "Nobody ever mentioned it to me before, let alone Cassie," I admit, a hint of confusion lacing my voice. The notion of my devotion being so transparent is foreign to me.

Lucy leans in, her voice filled with a quiet conviction. "I know that you loved me, and probably still do," she says, her honesty striking a chord within me. "But you could never be with me once you knew it hurt Cassie."

Silence descends upon us, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. I find myself at a loss for a response, my mind grappling with the sudden surge of Lucy's confidence and raw honesty.

She continues, her voice filled with a poignant mix of regret and longing. "My life went to shit without you and Cassie. You two were everything to me, and you both cut me off on the same day,"

Her words fall on me like a rockslide. I'm unable to say a thing as I'm buried under.

"I'm not sure what it is about your relationship that made you burn the bridge with me, but I hope that whatever you have together is worthy of the sacrifice." She says, not in acrimony, but with a tender smile that faintly gleams in her eyes when she looks at me. Then she tears her gaze from me, rises, and leaves.

Her departure makes me aware of a void inside my chest. An emptiness that echoes with the remnants of shattered connections and unanswered questions. And I am left alone once more, grappling with the weight of her words and the uncertainty of the path ahead.

I lay and wait for the sun to rise, but the night stands still.