i think i love you • matthew healy

23. dull

she wouldn't.

she would never.

when i left my mum's house, i thought i left everything. her. the pain she constantly inflicted towards me each passing day ever since my dad and i got into that car accident that took his life. every day she blamed me. and every day i watched her as she went mad. she turned into someone i didn't know--a fucking monster.

i knew i left everything behind when i left my mum. it was the strangest, sweetest, saddest freedom i felt.

eunice knows that. at least i think she does.

she would never fucking reach out to my mum for me. she would never. after knowing what i've gone through. she wouldn't.

—

when the time had come for me to finally meet up with eunice at a rather high-end restaurant just a few minutes away from central london, i felt like i was attending my own funeral.

which, in a way, feels like it.

"william is currently in the process of publishing a book, he's barely slept honestly, i don't even know what the book is about. and samantha wants to know how you are." she's saying to me. "i think she's read about you online, too, although i haven't asked—"

i groan. "yeah. some shitty threads on twitter apparently." my sister is looking at me like she doesn't even know what a thread even is. "it's—nothing, really, just about the thing i had with matty last year."

you could immediately tell from the look in her eyes that she hates hearing matty's name, as if he'd done an incredibly wrong sin of taking me away from my deadbeat mum.

"oh." she replies. "alright then."

each second feels like a fucking lifetime.

"rhian," my sister finally takes a deep desperate breath, looking at me like she knows she's done everything wrong. "i'm sorry."

i ignore her apology. "how did she reach you?" i demand.

"we've always had each other's numbers."

jesus christ.

"she rang me up one morning, rhian. she's real worried about you, and she's angry at herself for the things she's done."

"she hurt me, eunice."

i almost want to yell. for a moment i realise the reason why eunice wanted to see me in a public place--so she could control my reaction.

"rhian, she says she's sorry--"

"no, she's not." i stammer. "ever since dad died she turned into a selfish monster. you know she's got a drug addiction? she wouldn't feed me. she hurt me. she fucking blamed me for his death."

the more i let the words out of my mouth, the more i want to grasp them with my own bare hands and shove them down my sister's throat. just so she would understand.

that my mum doesn't love me, not even quite. she only tolerated me because of my dad.

he was the only person who ever did love me. and maybe the only person who ever loved my mum, really.

she was toxic, awful, damaged in every sense of the word. he knew all that, and still loved her.

it scares me that i'm beginning to see myself like him.

eunice leans back on the posh dining chair, looking at me like she doesn't want to hear any of my shit.

"i feel as if you have to reach out to her at some point." she sighs. "look, rhiannon. you're pushing everyone away. you see that, don't you?"