This Is Why Scars Aren't Friends With Secrets

"'I trusted you," I said to Emily. I always called her Em. I looked at her. This was the girl I had trusted with all of my secrets, all of my scars. Her eyes had glassed over with tears that I wasn't sure were genuine. I looked at her hands that I wasn't holding. She had a Band-Aid on her thumb. I remember her calling me, laughing, telling me about how she got the cut on her thumb. She was peeling potatoes and cut herself. I didn't see how it was funny, but I still laughed.

She looked at me and tried to look pitiful. I wanted to scowl at her. But I couldn't. I just couldn't scowl or show any anger towards her.

"I know you did, Amber. I did too," She said, trying to grab my hands. I pulled them back from her. But I had to face her, and not back off like a coward. But I was done giving all of myself to receive nothing in return. I was sick and tired of it, and Emily didn't care how much she walked all over me. It was like I was a god forbidden sidewalk.

"What do you mean, 'I did too'?" I said, my voice cracking. No matter how much I loved Emily, we couldn't work out and she knew it. We'd been best friends for almost ten years now, but she wanted to be something more. I had looked at her that night with a look of pure confusion. I laughed at first, thinking it had to be a joke. But Emily's stern face told me otherwise. I told her that I highly valued her as a friend, but that we couldn't be anything else. I also told her, 'how could she because she knew I was in love with Henry'. I had told her that I was in love with Henry. We had been going out for almost three months now, and we were both ready to get serious. And here Em was, destroying ten years of secrets, laughs, and closeness.

"I know I messed up, Amber. I actually lost all my feelings for you now. Besides, I got on Tinder. I decided that maybe I shouldn't go out breaking every strong friendship I have with feelings that I conjure up one night and decide that it's worth breaking everything." She said, a tear rolling down her cheek, despite the half-grin on her face. She expected me to laugh. She expected me to laugh, after all this. After everything I've been through.

I stepped back.

"You know you messed up? That's such an understatement, knowing you. You absolutely ruin everything in your path and then you expect everybody in your life to clean it all up, holding up your dress because you think that you are so awesome, and that everything you do is just wonderful. But it's not, Em. No, Emily. It's not. Because you hurt me and others and you expect constant forgiveness. And you walked all over me, which I told you about. You tell me to eat and criticize my stomach size when you know I have anorexia. You use my insecurities against me, and honestly? All for nothing. All the times I confided in you, when everybody else was leaving- all of that was fake. I'm so done." I said. It felt exhilarating. I don't know what I expected, but I felt numb. Like nothing happened. I wasn't empty, I was too full.

Emily looked at me and rubbed under her eyes. Her classic move. She knew what she did, and she did it with a sense of unnerving pride. That's what bothered me the most. She thought she could get away with it. She was the enemy here.

I looked at her one last time and walked out of her apartment. She called out, asking me to wait. To give her a final chance. I was so tired. I needed sleep. I could barely function, and I wanted to get a higher-paying job, a steady relationship with Henry, and succumb to my full potential. Emily wouldn't help any of that.

I opened my car door, closing it with a loud shut. I jumped at the sound and then sighed before turning my keys to signal the end. It came too soon, and a lot of me didn't want it, but I knew it was for the better. Right?

I got thirty voicemails from Em before I finally blocked her. I listened to every one of them. It went from pleading, to apologies that sounded rehearsed, to the last one that finally broke me. Sure, I'd been chipped at, but honestly, I'd learned to take a beating. Until now. Now I break.

Voicemail Received From Em💅 @ 3:23 A.M., Saturday, March Thirtieth. **

'Hey Amber. I'm really sorry. I know all of my apologies sound like they were written on a script, but I'm feeling so surreal right now and I just want to say that I love you. I hope you know that. It's okay if you don't feel the same way back right now. Something in me broke that made me feel so empty and lost. I don't know what it was. I'm not expecting any pity, or any forgiveness. I just want you to know that I love you, okay? That's all. Thanks. Bye, Amber.'

I listened to it over and over again, like it was an anchor in the storm. I looked at her profile picture. It was a picture of us making a big heart with our hands. I couldn't help but cry. And I cried for so long. I'd wanted to function, so I got away from Emily, but it seemed like I stopped functioning even more when I did get away from her. It was messed up and I didn't like it. But I still felt like we were both the villains. I played the voicemail again. And again. I couldn't get enough of her voice. Her saying 'I love you'. I loved her back.

I didn't want to text her, so I did the only other thing that came to my mind and I brewed up a cup of Earl Grey and got to work writing a letter to Emily.

Dearest Em:

I'm sorry too. I just want to know one thing: why? What is there out there? I don't know how to feel about you anymore, though.

Still, I love you as well.

-Amber

I sealed it with a sticker I found on my desk- a dog wearing sunglasses- and wrote her address, and a return address, and sent it to her apartment. I held my breath for three days until I got a letter back, sealed with a sticker with a cat wearing sunglasses. I laughed a little- Em knew me so well.

My dearest Amber-

I was excited about receiving your letter, honestly. I gave up after thirty voicemails. This works. I like the vintage vibe. It feels okay. Anyway, it's okay to not know what to feel about me. I don't know what I feel about myself right now, either. That makes two of us. But, I want to tell you why in-person before it's too late. There's something bad out there. Somebody who you love. That's all I can say. Meet me tomorrow at 9:15 am pronto and we can have brunch. If you can even get up that early, Amber. Ha. But yeah. See you there- or not. It'll be okay either way. Actually- no, because I need to tell you this. Come, please.

Love, Em

I read the letter and made plans to visit Emily's apartment at 9:15 tomorrow morning.

***

When I arrived at Em's apartment, I sipped on my cup of tea that I had stored carefully in a travel mug that Em gifted me a few years ago. I sighed and took a deep breath in before opening my door like I've done a thousand times before, and then I walked into her apartment. I let myself in. Em is okay with that.

I saw her sitting on her old blue couch, where I may have learned that scars aren't friends with secrets. Who knows.

"Hey, Em," I said. She said hello slightly, and invited me on her old blue couch.

"I know what you want to know," She said, fidgeting with the new Band-Aid on her thumb. It must've been a deep cut.

"What's out there? Why did you do this to me?" I asked, simply.

"It's Henry. I actually felt nothing romantic around you. I was dumb as suspected that you did, but I was desperate to get you away from him."

"Why? He's the sweetest ever, Em. Why?"

"That's exactly what I thought. Have you ever looked into him?"

"No, not at all. His Tinder profile said that he was single, looking for a relationship, and that he loved hiking and the beach."

"Well, no offense, but sometimes you gotta look farther than one's Tinder profile,"

"Oh. None taken,"

"Good. Well, we're real here, so I'll tell you point blank. Henry isn't who you think he is at all. He was convicted for doing some nasty, horrible things in his teen years. Involving an eleven-year-old girl. That's all I feel comfortable saying. You can look it up if you want to know more. But yeah."

"Holy crap. I didn't know. But thanks. But you're sure there were no feelings?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm not that crazy. But I'm really sorry I had to do what I did. It was really dumb and immature. I'm sorry, Amber."

"I know. And hey, this doesn't mean that everything is going to be rainbow unicorns between us, but I'm willing to start over if you are,"

"I am, seriously."

"Good. Now, oh my God, come here and hug me!"

Em laughed a little as she hugged me on her old blue couch.

Nothing's perfect, but we can try.

And maybe I can relax a little. Listen to some melancholy music because that's what feels real and not fake.

And maybe I'll still feel weird around Em.

But it's all gonna be okay."

The biggest lie I ever said.