Dear Mr.Idiot

one

Glass.

Blood.

Me.

The mirror I looked into was mocking me. The person that stared back at me was happy,  her smile too genuine to be mine. Yet there she was, but I knew. I knew it wasn't me. It was the person I could have been right now, the person I deserved to be. But because I fucked that all up my own reflection wanted nothing to do with me. It didn't want to look like the real me. The one with days old tears still stained to her face. The one with eyes that peered back like a black hole. I was nothing, nothing at all worth seeing. 

I didn't realize when it all happened. When I snapped and smashed my head into the mirror. I didn't feel it. Only saw the glass in the sink and the blood falling off my face mixing in. I realized only that I had created my own breakfast filled with my dejection and regret. What a nice way to start the day.

I was suffocating in my remorse. I kept thinking if only, if only I hadn't started that argument that day. If only I had just called it quits.

Let it go.

That's all he wanted me to do, to just let things go. The consistent antagonizing over meaningless situations, created disasters for him. He told me to trust him. To believe in him.

Why couldn't I do it?

Sometimes I want to close my eyes and disappear, but whenever I do, the sound of sirens fill my ears. The image of two police officers standing outside my door. That day and all its dread comes rushing back to me.

"Are you Mrs. Fraizer?"

When I had told them I was, there was a part of me that immediately regretted it. Maybe if I had said no, I wouldn't have heard the news. Just to live in my fantasy for a little bit longer, just to believe he would still be coming home later.

"There was a car accident..."

Those words alone and I fell a part. I knew that there could be no other reason they would be here. Unless he was hurt. Unless he was gone.

The sound of a baby wailing took me back to reality. I walked out the bathroom and towards his room to see my mom already calming him down. At the sound of me she looked over horrified.

"What's wrong with your face!"

I reached up towards the top of my head to feel the impact. As I brought my hand back down I surprised myself at how much I was bleeding.

"I look and feel like shit."

I watched as she put him back into his crib and came towards me. She caressed my face her eyes wide in fear? shock? I couldn't tell.

"Helia. I thought we were over this? I thought you were past this self abuse."

I turned away from her a smile forming on my face. A psychopath. I had turned crazy.

I sat down before responding, the massive blood loss had finally gotten to me, making me light headed.

"This? It's just an accident. I'm fine ma. You don't have to keep coming over here."

She shook her head as she went into the bathroom beside the room and came back out with a wet cloth and first aid kit. I tried to protest against it, but she slapped my hand away and began cleaning it up. At least she wasn't asking me to go to the hospital, I couldn't step inside. Not yet. 

"Helia, it's been months. Get up and take care of yourself. You're a mother now. You can't be walking around being depressed."

"If dad had been hit by a car would you have been sad for only a day?"

"I would be sad for only a few weeks if he was still alive."

I opened my mouth to speak but she simply cut me off. 

" Which may I remind you, your husband is. He's alive, in a coma, but breathing."

My eyes became fixed on my son in his crib. I wondered if he saw how low I was. He didn't like being around me anymore as if he too was tired of my self pity.

"And if you're worried about him not waking up, the doctor already said he got through surgery just fine. He will wake up any day now. At most he will have some migraines now and then for some months after he wakes and a scar from the surgery. But he will be alive and well."

"I can't help that I feel this way mom. I feel responsible. If he even wakes up, I will always look at him and think how I probably led to that accident."

"When he wakes up I'm sure he will be happy to see his wife and kid. If you really feel sorry, get some help. Go to therapy. Figure out exactly why you keep trying to start a fight."

She finished wiping all the blood off my face and walked away to throw the bloody cloth away.

What was I arguing for that day? Why did I start it?

"Will therapy do anything but make me feel worse? I don't want some wannabe trying to psychoanalyze me just to get some money out of me."

I watched her walk back in to sit next to me.

"Sweetheart, I love you but you really can't continue like this. Every time I ask for you to talk to me, you don't want to. I tell you to go talk to someone else, you don't trust them. Then tell me will you, what are you going to do? Keep bashing your head into God knows what until you kill yourself? And okay say he really doesn't wake up, with you and him both dead where does that leave Matthew? He's barely one, are you just going to leave him parent less?"

I didn't want to have this conversation today. I didn't have time for this. I just wanted her to go.

"I'll figure it out."

"No it doesn't look like you will unless someone intervenes. I understood when it didn't look like he was going to survive the surgery. When you weren't sure you had the money to pay it off. I understood when there were complications with his surgery. I understood you going through because of all those things. You've paid it off, he's made it through everything else. So why do you keep dragging yourself down? You know if he saw you like this he wouldn't like it."

Paid it off. What a joke his mother practically took care of everything to make sure he got the best care possible.

"Here you go again. The nagging. Always in my damn business. Just leave me alone! I know everything, I know I can't keep being this way. I'm thinking of Matthew. I just- I just need time."

I kept my eyes down afterwards. I didn't want to see her face after my outburst. I didn't want to see that my words hurt her. It was wrong but I only wanted to see her leave.

"You're absolutely right. I'll stay out your business. But just know if anything happens to my grandson because you want to act like you're the one who's laying in the damn hospital, daughter or not I'll take Matthew and go. Cause no matter what you have to say, it doesn't excuse the fact that you need to stand back on your feet and get your shit together."

I saw through the corner of my eyes as she angrily grabbed her bag next to the crib and walked off. She left me only with those words to repeat in my head.

Once again I felt myself getting filled up with dread. I felt myself wanting to be dead.