A Safe Space

Dz retrieved a spoon from my silverware drawer and was about to slide it down the counter towards me before I shook my head.

"Too early," I mumbled, which was easier to say than the truth--that the thought of eating anything made me nauseous. I stowed Zyggy's snacks quietly. For several minutes, the only sound was Dz crunching the apple down to its core.

We both tried to speak at once.

"Listen, I have no idea how to help--"

"I don't know why Demeter sent you--"

We stopped. Shaking his head, Dz stepped on the trash can's foot pedal and dropped the apple core inside.

"This isn't really my gig. You know that, I know that, Demeter knows that. But..." he trailed off.

"But here you are," I said dully.

"Here I am." Flicking the kitchen tap on, he rinsed the apple juice from his fingers before turning off the water and drying his hands on a dish towel. "So? Tell me about it."

I stifled an eye roll at the prospect of explaining my stupid dumb girl emotions to someone who hid his own so deeply that you'd need a fully certified scuba diving crew to bring them to the surface. I'd gone to Dz for a number of things in the history of our friendship, but never before had I gone to him for the weepy stuff.

Pressing my lips together, I snatched the dish towel from his hands and began wiping the counter to give myself something, anything, to do.

"Well?" he said gruffly. "Come on, just spit it out."

I knew he wasn't intentionally being an asshole, but my patience was spent; all I had left was spite and resentment and exhaustion. I knew I couldn't perform the emotional labor of kindly redirecting his efforts. So I matched his energy.

"Oh, the usual," I said venomously as I dragged the towel in larger and larger circles, allowing my vision to blur with the repetitive motion. "Met them. Fell for them. Fought for their affection. Stuck around, hoping things would change. Hated myself when they didn't. Then, because I'm so nice, I gave them the honor of dumping me."

Dz's muffled snort only infuriated me further. I realized--I didn't want to hear what he had to say. Not when I knew he had no idea what I was feeling. So I let my frustration bubble up and over.

"And then there's the regularly scheduled self-hatred. I'm disappointed in myself for making the same mistakes over and over. I'm ashamed of begging people for their love until they leave me." I spat out each word like an orange pip. "Which is something I know you're not familiar with."

Suddenly, my chest felt tight. I stopped wiping the counter, digging my fingers into the towel, waiting for him to respond. But he didn't. His silence was somehow just as hurtful as his words had been.

"I'll get over it," I seethed. "So tell Zyggy thanks for the ice cream, and now you can go back to Ishness. Tell Demeter you tried your best. Tell her I was a bitch. I kicked you out, yelled at you, threw stuff. Whatever you have to say to get her off your back. She'll believe it. God knows you have a type."

The steady patter of rain on my windows worked overtime to fill the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Dz was struggling to keep his voice low. A sickly feeling of shame at oversharing made my skin crawl and my teeth chatter. When I didn't respond, he rolled his eyes. "Start over, slowly, and--"

I threw my hands in the air, releasing a hissed exhale. "Oh, slowly relive my heartbreak, what a good idea--"

"Why do you only date people who won't give you the time of day?" he snarled.