The Universe would never let my popsicle melt.

 It isn’t until I feel the warm liquid coming from my melted popsicle run down my clasped fingers and slowly drip onto my wrist and forearm, do I realise I’ve been lost in my thoughts for the hundredth time that afternoon. It was one of those days where nothing could keep my attention, no matter how hard I tried. I thought that maybe going to the park in the middle of the bustling city would help my restless mind and give me some clarity for the day ahead, but my luck just simply wouldn’t allow it. I wipe my hands on my short summer dress and put the quickly melting ice treat on the grass beside me, my appetite for it gone.

I look down at the popsicle rapidly dissolving into the soil beneath me, leaving the wooden stick behind. I think of how easily something can be affected by something else as simple as temperature. Lately, I’ve been over analysing things and, of course, adding to my anxiety. Ever since spring last year, I have hated changed. Despised it, even. You never realise how important normality is until after it has been swiped from you like a mother swipes chocolate from a naughty child’s hands in a supermarket.

The worst thing about change is, sometimes you don’t even know what causes it. One day you’re sitting in work wishing for adventure, and the next day, you’re being tormented by The Universe Itself. And sometimes, change is the best thing that could happen. You never really know though, do you? Could be a blessing in disguise or a hindrance you can never be rid of.

I look back up at the people passing through the park. Joggers, businessmen, young and old couples alike and the people watcher like me. I wonder what the biggest change these people before me have gone through. A breakup? Death of a loved one? A job loss, perhaps? All these heart-breaking things in the day to day life take up so much of our time, we never really stop to think how little our problems mean to this wretched universe and its cruel tricks.

 Maybe this is the universes way of dealing with the change its gone through. I mean, it went from dinosaurs being the norm, to people dedicating their entire life to try understanding the creatures. It went through countless tragedies and victories, most of which untold by past generations. Everyone and everything has their own way of coping and maybe the universes’ way is making peoples lives horrible bit by bit. It had to go through heartbreak, therefore everyone else should too, right?

I lay on my back, feeling my skin get indents from the grass under me and I look up to the sky and close my eyes. While yes, I should be on alert as I am a woman alone in a park which in most cases would be dangerous, I couldn’t care less as nothing physically bad could ever happen to me. Much to my misfortune.

I lay there, missing my past, my life, my normal oh so normal life. My fiancée. Its all her fault really. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself in this itchy grass. You see, what happened was she was perfect. Maybe too perfect. Much too perfect. So perfect I should have known she was too good to be true. A week before our wedding, she tells me she has been having second thoughts. I guessed she was getting cold feet and proposed that we delay the wedding. But no. Oh no. How I wish it was only the wedding. She continued by saying she was having second thoughts about us. Together. And then she said those life changing words. “I’m breaking up with you”. Her bags were packed, leaving no room for conversation. That was when It happened.

What exactly went down, I’m not sure. All I know is one-minute I’m lying on the kitchen floor sobbing to my cat, Sergio, and the next minute I’m fine. I use the word fine lightly. I’m fine because somehow, she never existed. The pictures on the walls of us were replaced with pictures of me and friends. The clothes in the wardrobe that she bought, replaced with the ratty ones I have owned for years. (She was always the fashionable one of the two of us). I check my phone for her number, completely gone. All traces of the love of my life wiped away as if she was a figment of my imagination. Maybe she was. She might as well be. My mother offered to pay for therapy, and I humoured her as I couldn’t afford it otherwise. They put me on schizophrenia medication which I quickly quit.

I was moving on with my life. My cat Sergio being my one lifeline. That is until he got hit by my neighbour’s car one winter night. Then It happened. Again. I buried him with my vision blurred by tears and the heavy rain. I managed to find enough energy to drag myself into the kitchen. I lie there, on my kitchen floor, just inside my backdoor. As my body heaves with my heavy sobs, I fall asleep.

I wake up early the next morning, my body refusing to let me escape reality any longer. I lie on the cold tile, my back already in pain from my night on the floor. I turn my head and look out to the hastily dug grave of my best friend. My eyes widen when I see healthy grass already covering the resting place. I think back to the night before. My digging skills not being the best, made a mess of the area with soil and grass flying everywhere. I open the door, looking around and hoping I was simply looking in the wrong spot. As my eyes rapidly search the small garden filled with dying flowers, my heart sinks as I start to realise It happened again. I say It because I couldn’t begin to comprehend my situation.

I run into the house, already noticing his food and water bowl gone. I grab my phone, my last hope. I wish to see my lock screen as Sergio lying on his back under the Christmas tree, his eyes filled with mischief as he looks up at the colourful lights. My hands shake as I turn on my phone. I let out a cry of anguish as I see the default wallpaper with the swirling colours.

I let out a gasp as I abruptly open my eyes and sit up. I’m briefly blinded by the bright sun. A woman looks over at me with concern at my sudden outburst. I give a weak smile and look to the grass. I do some breathing exercises my therapist recommended as I try ground myself. Inhale for four, hold for seven and exhale for eight. I do this a few times until I feel my heart begin to slow.

I look back up and make eye contact with the woman again. She sits a few feet away from me, reading a book. She smiles at me again and asks if I’m okay. I reply with an I’m fine thank you, a lie I have gotten very good at telling. I'm expecting the conversation to be over but she lifts herself up and comes over to me. My heart rate quickens again, my conversation skills being rusty ever since It first happened. She asks to sit and I nod.

She introduces herself and reaches her hand out to shake mine. I quickly wipe my sweating hand on my dress before meeting hers. I notice the book she’s reading and a pang goes through my heart. That was Her favourite book. She read it when she was stressed and now this beautiful stranger is reading it too. I awkwardly strike up a conversation about the book, relying on my limited knowledge to keep the conversation going.

I felt easy around her, like I wasn’t going crazy. We sit for what feels like hours, conversation flowing like water from a fountain. I pretend like im not already falling in love with this woman sitting cross legged in front of me. As its getting dark, she gets a call. The sound of the ringtone muffeled in her bag alerting us of the world surrounding us once again. She apologises and gets up to take the call.

I try gather the confidence to ask her on a date as she has her back turned, still talking to the person on the phone. I sit, picking out the grass from the soil, waiting for her conversation to end. I hear her say she’ll be home soon. I stand up, knowing our time together for today has been cut off by the caller. She hangs up the phone and turns around to face me.

I smile and say I too, must go home. Knowing full well I don’t as there isn’t a soul waiting for me. As she picks up her bag to throw her phone in, I open my mouth to ask her the question that has been on my mind for hours.

I’m cut off by her saying it was her boyfriend waiting for her to come home. My heart sinks to the ground once the words leave her mouth. I let out an involuntary noise of disappointment which I quickly cover up with a cough. I get this uneasy feeling that I have only gotten twice before. I urgently try to stop It by convincing myself its okay and I didn’t even like her that much anyway. My legs nearly give out from under me, urging me to sit down before I fall. I see her walk away from me. Her bag hanging off one shoulder as she shuffles down the small hill, trying not to fall.

I close my eyes as my hand clasps around the stick that held my popsicle earlier today. I start to cry. I fall back suddenly, as if someone pushed me. My eyes close and I have a feeling I know what's coming.

I sit up with a cry of frustration and hopelessness. I look around the park to see people basking in the hot sun. It isn’t until I feel the warm liquid coming from my melted popsicle run down my clasped fingers and slowly drip onto my wrist and forearm, do I realise there's no point in trying.

I knew, in that moment, that this was my life now. I had no choice. Maybe it just so happens I’m the universes favourite person. It lets me avoid consequences to my actions. If only it would also let me forget that it ever happened.

I tried before, to end it. I tried a couple weeks after I lost my job due to my distracted and unmotivated mind. I thought It would let me have another job, one I wouldn’t get fired from. Maybe It would save me from homelessness. It didn’t, of course. Not when I wanted and begged and prayed it to. I ended up moving back in with my mother.

That was when I made up my mind to finish it. If It stopped happening, then nothing would stop me from escaping it all. I got out of bed at my mother’s house, grabbing the keys and storming out the front door. It couldn’t have been any later past 5am. I drove to the one spot I couldn’t stop thinking of. The bridge in which She and I had our first kiss.

I got there after 20 minutes of near reckless driving. I left the keys in the car, knowing I would no longer need them. I walked to the edge of the bridge and looked down at the water. The water which looked calm and peaceful but was deathly. Or so I hoped. I walked to the very edge, my toes off the bridge. I took a breath and stepped forward.

I awoke with a gasp. I was in bed. At my mother’s house. I checked the clock on my phone. 4:30am. I let out a shout, uncaring of my sleeping mother down the hall. It was back. All hope was gone.