Hey Monday

r e c o v e r i n g

-ellen-

I was cold.

Of course, I was in a fluffy sweater, and I under five blankets and a comforter. But there was nothing that could melt the ice that had been instilled inside of me, not even the six mugs of hot chocolate that Logan had brought over throughout the day.

I was in bed, even though it was five in the evening. Early that morning, I had woken up from our movie night and crept over my sleeping best friends, heading off to my own comfy bed. I wasn't sure why, I just didn't want to be in the living room any longer. So I ended up falling back asleep, waking up again by Logan's hand at noon, and then staying in bed for five hours more.

I wasn't even sure what I was doing in those five hours. Taking up space, I guess. Existing. And in the state I was in, existing was far too much work than it was worth.

"Hey, Ellen," Logan said softly as he entered my room for the billionth time. "I brought your notebook. I thought... I don't know. I thought you might want it."

I sat up a bit and stretched my arms toward him. "Yeah, give it."

He handed over the notebook and I took it from him, savoring the feeling of the pages between my fingers. I took out a pencil from under my bed and began scribbling in it, a sketch of a brain and some mindless poems.

"So, are you hungry?" Logan asked. "I mean, I'm no cook, but I can whip up a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

I gave him a half-smile and shook my head. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks, though."

Logan furrowed his brow and took a seat on the foot of my bed. "But you haven't eaten anything all day."

I rolled my eyes. I hated how the boys were so protective over me lately, treating me like I was broken or something. "No, I had some raspberries, remember? And all that hot chocolate?"

Logan smiled. "Yeah, we're out of it now. You sure you're good?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

But that wasn't the truth, it was so far from the truth.

Seconds after Logan left, I grabbed my notebook again and hastily flipped to the front page. I looked at the very first entry I had made, back from when I was about 15 years old.

"You could rip me into a million pieces

and I bet I'd still say sorry."

I went a little further in and found an entry from three months after I had broken up with my first boyfriend. It was entitled "flowers" and had drawings of small little daisies all around it.

"A few months ago, you said that I smelled like flowers.

Today I saw you step on a rose. If that doesn't describe

our relationship, then I don't know what does."

I closed my notebook and sighed, leaning back against my fluffy pillows. Those entries were about Jacob, one of the only boyfriends that I had ever managed to get a hold of. He was everything you'd want in a partner- funny, sweet, loyal, friendly, sensible. But he broke up with me (he said he saw me as more of a "little sister") and it ruined me. I was never the same after that.

You should never base your happiness on someone else, because at the end of the day, all you have is yourself. Other people will stomp all over you and tear you up without a second thought, and you just have to act like it doesn't hurt. I didn't understand how to do that, and if I'm being honest, I still don't.