Page 111 of Summer Breakdown
“I need to break up with you.” She manages to it sound nonchalant even as it thumps in her chest. It swirls into something that feels too close to imminent death as Jasmine’s jaw drops ever so slightly.
“You’re not in love with me?”
Jasmine doesn’t deserve for someone like Frankie to be in love with her. She shouldn’t have to deal with the dramatics of someone like her. Frankie tried her best to make Jasmine like her, but she’s not sure how she did it now. How she could ever do it again. They’re doomed to be in a stagnant place that she drags Jasmine to with every dreary visit. Jasmine will stay too long because she’s sweet and she’s kind and she doesn’t know that Frankie doesn’t get any better than this.
“N-no.”
Jasmine takes in a breath like she’s been hit—the kind of breath Frankie watches on the pitch. Frankie was wrong. She thought nothing had hurt like last night. Like just making it through to the morning. Oh, she was wrong. She couldn’t have been more wrong. The pain slides through her like a hot knife through butter as Jasmine rolls her lips.
“Okay, but, like, uhm, not in love right now, or like … like you’re never going to love me?”
Frankie shakes her head. “We need to break up.”
Jasmine swallows. Every rapid blink she takes feels like a stab through her chest. Frankie wonders if it would hurt less than this.
“Is this a sabotage thing?” Jasmine asks. She knows all about it. She’s read every book that exists on bipolar and anxiety because she cares about her. But there’s researching and there’s living it. Frankie drags everyone down. Jasmine will feel guilty about going out with the girls while Frankie lies in bed, so she won’t go. She’ll feel guilty about taking the kids in the pool while Frankie can’t open her eyes, so she won’t do it. She’ll feel guilty about being happy while Frankie wants to die, and she will stop. Her life will cease to move forwards until Frankie is better, but Frankie doesn’t get better than this.
“Because if it is, you need—God,” Jasmine says, wiping her face. “Frank, you need to give me something. I can’t hope that’s what this is. I need you. I need you to tell me. Fucking hint or something. I wasn’t in this alone. So why am I the only one in love?”
Jasmine holds on to her hand. “I love you. I am so in love with you.”
It’s weird, feeling nothing at all and still knowing this would eviscerate her later. She knows. Her body knows she won’t survive this. But Jasmine loving her has never made sense. Not now, not ever.
“Is it because you’re scared I’ll leave you?” Jasmine asks, as if she’s right in her mind. As if she knows all the routes to the most fucked-up parts of her brain and is flicking through the worst thoughts she’s ever had. “You don’t want me to hurt you? Because you’re breaking my heart, Frank, and I’m asking you, please don’t.”
Frankie takes a deep breath, blinking furiously. She wasn’t supposed to fight her on it. Jasmine was supposed to take the win and leave. That’s all she was supposed to do.
“You can have whatever you want from me,” Jasmine says, reaching for her other hand. Her voice sounds too unsure,and Frankie hates that she’s the reason for it. She’s hurt her time and time again. “Okay? Time, or—or space. If I’m being too much or if you need me to back off, I will, just … it doesn’t have to be permanent.”
“I don’t want you—“ Frankie replies, but she’s panicking. She hadn’t thought this through.To watch me die. To deal with me. To put your life on hold.
“We’re friends.”
Jasmine frowns. “Do you think this is how I act with my friends?”
She’s right. Frankie doesn’t act with anyone the way she acts with her, because she’s never loved anyone the way she loves her. Maybe that’s all love is—being with someone despite the fact you can’t believe they want you in the same way. Maybe it’s letting someone go so they don’t mourn you. Maybe love is something Frankie doesn’t know how to have.
Frankie shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. You don’t have any; you just stole mine.”
Jasmine clenches her jaw, but it’s too late. Frankie saw the flash of hurt.
“I know you lash out when you’re defensive,” Jasmine says. Frankie’s never lashed out at her, which means Ezra told her, or Cam. All her favourite people sitting around discussing how awful Frankie is. How they need to prepare themselves for her senseless attacks.
“If you want to be friends for a while,” she says, her eyes squinting slightly as she looks away, “we can do that. Tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll fix it.” As if Jasmine has ever been anything other than perfect.
Frankie shakes her head, and Jasmine releases one of her hands.
“Frankie,” Jasmine whispers, her hand against her jaw. She tilts her face until she looks at her. Frankie can see the unshed tears in her eyes and the freckles on her nose. The curls that blow against her cheekbones. She’ll never be able to move them again. She’s discounting herself from a spacein her life. Maybe it’s been such a short amount of time that when Jasmine thinks back on it, Frankie won’t even show up, despite the fact that every thought and every action Frankie has from now until the end of her time on this earth will be laced with the idea of her.
“This was something. You can’t tell me that it wasn’t; I won’t believe you. I can’t believe you. But I want—I deserve someone that loves me.” And she does. Jasmine would deserve anyone she wanted. Someone that makes her want to be happy every second of every day.
“Can you tell me that you do?” she asks. “Tell me this is because you’re in a low period and you’re pushing me away. Okay? Tell me that. Please, my girl. Please tell me that.” Jasmine would never have wanted to ask. She doesn’t ask for things unless she’s desperate, but Frankie left her no choice.
Frankie shakes her head. “You said … you said you’d do anything for me,” she begs.
“I know you push people away,” Jasmine whispers. “I know you do, but you know me as well. You know how hard it is for me to be anywhere I’m not loved. I know you’re struggling, but I need you to try for me too. I can’t beg you to love me.”
Frankie wonders if there are any pills to take that will make her survive this—the way tears rolls down Jasmine’s cheeks so fast she can’t move to wipe them away. Frankie’s never had an episode with anyone new. Ezra can’t leave her; they’re related. Cam is in love with Ezra, so she’s stuck too. Jasmine can be freed, even if Frankie wants her here. It’s not fair.
