I’M OVER IT
BY BRENDA NGUYEN
This zine is about the end of a relationship, boys in general, learning to open up again, and letting go. It’s a journey from emotional isolation to a healing wound.
“I hate you. Don’t leave me .”
I loved love. I craved it. He knew. He probably craved it too.
He said “We were made for each other” “I will never love anyone else as much as I love you” “I promise I will never leave you”
POIGNANT That was the word he said would best describe me. I think it impressed him how much I felt about the world, about him. Once we got into an argument and I burst into tears because I thought he was breaking up with me. He said, “I didn’t know I could mean so much to someone.” I didn’t know that either.
Weight on the chest. I can’t get up. I don’t want to.
I don’t know how to say no. I feel so empty afterward. I am folding into myself like a clenched fist. Hurting myself again and again. Poles, chain link fences, walls. Bruises in the morning. I say I’ve been thinking of dying. He tells me to think of him.
GIFTS and ACTS OF SERVICE Here, let me manifest my love for you. I strew my love for him around the city we lived in, bread crumbs so I could find my way back to him. A bed frame. Music equipment. A sweater. I can’t believe you don’t own a sweater. Take this it’s your favorite movie. Here I don’t need it anymore you take it. Please take it you can rest on it. Take this it represents your growth. You make me so proud. I’m proud to be with you. Oh you’re going out again. You don’t want me to come with you? No it’s okay I guess I understand. Take this it’s cold out I’ll have dinner ready when you come home your favorite. What do you want to eat when you get back? What do you mean you’re not coming home?
Hard like the way I say “I’m fine” Hard like my eyes when you say you didn’t mean it when you said, “You’re a fucking piece of shit.” Hard like the Rubik’s cube shards on the porch.
Boys want me but don’t want to keep me. He says I’m a self-fulfilling prophecy. He said I’m doomed to be a wandering soul. He said I can’t keep looking for patterns. He said I’m not my mother. He said I’m cold. He said I’m better than this. He said he’s proud of me.
Who asked you?
I was a good liar. I know what to say to make people stay. I know how to make people love me. I’m not good at it, but I know. It was a game. I pushed buttons. I saw the lights. I wanted more. He wouldn’t leave. I thought I never would. I molded myself into the girl of his dreams, but his dreams kept changing. I didn’t recognize myself anymore.
People look at me strangely like I don’t belong everywhere I go, as if I no longer belong in this world since I left you. I’m tired of people asking me about you when all I see is your ghost.
I am a vessel. I spend weeks with a sharp tongue and exaggerated stories. Guarded. Talking like strangers. Talking to strangers who say they want to give me the world. Small talk. Indulging. One drink too many. Every day fades into the next. Life became a blur without him.
MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL We used to laugh about our favorite worst movie tropes. This is your dream, dad. The white man’s burden. Boy meets girl. Deux ex machina. The hero returns and saves the day. He is changed, and he is cleansed. You couldn’t cure me. I’m the kind of crazy without morals, without explanations. But I bet you learned a lot about the human condition. I was a stepping stone. I inspired you. What did you learn? Love hurts. You learned that you got too close to the fire. You learned that I got in the way of your work. You adored me until you found out that I was real. All you left was a bitter taste in my mouth.
You won’t see me again.