Page 127 of Heartbeat

“My old friends have known me most of my life. It’s not the same.”

“I agree.”

“Great.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yet, wouldn’t you also agree you started getting better once you stopped letting them take up such a big part of your life?”

“They’ll always take up a big part of my life.”

“So, you don’t blame them?”

“For what?” I asked, raising a single brow.

“The way they treated you after your brother died.”

“You make it sound as though they’re horrible people.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“They did the best they could. Everyone did,” I said, somewhat annoyed.

“Everyone’s best included leaving you to handle things by yourself. And I don’t mean just your friends.”

“My best included a razor blade and shards of glass. What’s your point?”

“That wasn’t your best,” she said, shaking her head.

“It wasn’t?”

“It was your saddest.”

“Look, I don’t blame anyone.” I thought it best to clarify.

“You know that’s not true.”

“Fine, I don’t blame anyone else, then.”

“Do you think you’ll ever forgive yourself?”

“I dunno.” I shrugged.

“Don’t you think you should?”

“I really don’t. No,” I told her truthfully.

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t change anything, does it? I’m sick of trying to fix shit that has no consequence.”

“The guilt you carry—”

“—is mine,” I said, making sure I looked her dead in the eyes.

“Don’t you think other areas of your life would benefit from you forgiving yourself?”

“I refuse not to take responsibility for what I do.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” she asked.

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