The Unsaid

Aria

Sol was a low-lit café. It was cosy and quaint, few knew about it. Aria was sat in one of the wooden cushioned chairs, in a spot where she could look out of the window, and watch as people passed by. She sipped her hot chocolate with satisfaction. It had been another hard day at work. Her boss had found something wrong with the project proposal she had submitted – once again. She should resign really. But the pay is good. Yes, but it’s not worth this, you're worth more than this. Aria sighed softly as her slender fingers picked up the jade green mug. She sipped in solace as her glasses fogged up. She shook herself free from troubling thoughts and returned to her sanctuary. Just her in the café, sipping her hot chocolate. The sweet warmth of the cocoa and sugar slid slickly down her throat.

Buzz buzz.

“Where are you?”

Aria looked at the notification which lit up her phone. It was from her boyfriend Jason. Aria turned the phone over. Just five more minutes, please.

Buzz buzz.

Aria turned the phone over again.

“Can you pick up some milk? Before the store closes.”

The moment had passed. Aria sipped the last of her beverage and left the café. The cool November air kissed her soft cheeks, frost somewhat obscuring her view. She buried her face into her scarf, briskly walking towards her destination. She squinted as the bright light of the grocery store hit her shining brown eyes. People had always told her that her eyes were remarkably shiny, as if tears threatened to fall at any moment. Aria had believed that this supposed shininess was an accumulation of all the tears she had been unable to shed over the years. But she could never tell people that, that’s not what they wanted to hear. As Aria reached the checkout, her phone started to vibrate, she was getting a call. Aria scanned the milk as she answered the phone.

“What?”

“That’s a nice way to answer the phone,” he said snidely.

Aria rolled her eyes. “What’s up Jason?” She asked him evenly.

“You left the groceries’ yet?” He queried.

“What do you need?”

“Could you pick up some beers please?”

Aria felt her nostrils flare slightly. “Sure. See you soon.” She hung up the phone.

After paying for the beers and milk, Aria put her earphones in and made sure to take the long way home.

Willow

Willow was late driving home from work, traffic had been bad. Few things were as frustrating as being stuck in traffic in a vehicle that is supposed to get you to places quickly. She usually enjoyed her drives home, there was a special kind of freedom that came from driving. It was her own space, hers. Her music, her freshener, her car. Although it probably cost a lot more than what she should have paid. But it was worth the investment, it was worth her moments of peace. The heated seating helped too.

As she pulled into the driveway of her home, she saw that the lights were off. This was a good sign. She breathed a sigh of relief. Willow gingerly opened the door, making sure to step on all of the floorboards which didn’t creak. Her long legs treaded carefully up the stairs, and she deftly placed her belongings by her room door and headed straight for the bathroom – she needed a shower.

The steamy hot water fogged up the glass, rivers of droplets gliding down the tiles. It was perfect. Willow revelled in the way the water danced across her skin, washing the dirt of the day away. The scent of her mango soap soothed her nostrils, grounding her, relaxing her.

She stepped out of the bathroom, anticipating her warm bed. She knew that sleep would take her soon.

“You’re home.”

Willow froze with her hand clutching the towel around her chest, perfectly dyed long blonde hair wetly clung to her back. The figure was stood just by her doorway, smiling with expectation, clad in her pink dressing gown.

“Hi mum.”

“When you’re done can you give me a massage? My shoulders have seized up again.”

“Sure, give me a minute.” Willow said, turning to go into her room.

“Can’t you do it now? I’m in a lot of pain; I was waiting up for you. It won’t be long.”

Willow made sure to keep her exasperation hidden. “Okay. Let’s go to your room.”

Willow followed her mum as she shuffled through the doorway. Her mum sat in the velvet orange chair expectantly. Willow readjusted her towel, making sure it was tightly in place and began to give her mum a massage.

“How was your day at work dear?”

“Same as usual, it was a long day, had a lot to do.”

“Is that why you were so late?” Willow tensed, her own body constricting as she relaxed her mother’s.

“Yeah. And traffic.” Willow’s discomfort distracted her, she wasn’t keeping it together as well as she usually does. She was too tired.

“Well, aren’t you going to ask me about my day?” Her mother asked.

Willow exhaled softly, so softly that it was undetectable. I can’t do this today. I’m tired, it’s clear I’m tired.

“How was your day mum?”

“Well. I got up late because my shoulders have been killing me, makes it hard to get about. I did the dishes, yours too mind. And then I watched telly until I fell asleep on the sofa, I was exhausted, you cannot imagine…”

Willow didn’t hear anything else after that.

Aria

Aria and Jason were sat watching TV. Well, Jason was. He cheered raucously at the screen as his team scored another goal, beer in hand. Aria just sat there blankly, noise droning in her ears. She couldn't know how long she'd been sat here. She suddenly felt him nuzzle his head into her neck and she could see that the game was coming to an end.

“I’m going to bed babe, you coming?” Jason said light-heartedly.

“Give me a minute, just going to write for a bit.”

“Come onnnn babe, let’s snuggle in bed, pleeeeease.”

Aria furrowed her brow in frustration. “I said give me a minute Jason. Please.”

“There you go again. Rejecting me.” Jason said sneeringly, his expression darkened. “Fine, suit yourself.”

He stomped out of the room and Aria watched him stop to take the rest of the beers out of the fridge, upstairs with him.

As she heard him clumsily ascend the stairs she donned her black oversized hoodie and ventured to the conservatory. She exhaled in relief, the frost of the night encasing her like a hug. The large glass windows allowed her to look up at the stars. She reached down into her secret corner, unscrewed the lid and took a swig of wine. She made sure to feel the burn in her throat before she hit the play button on the speaker and opened her laptop.

Willow

The sound of her favourite artist floated through the night air, the rhythmic beat easing the knots of tension as she slowly swayed along to the tune. The bay windows in her room were her saving grace. The way they looked out onto the lawn below made this part of the building feel like a glasshouse, an open view of the scenery beyond. She lowered herself onto the bench under the window and sat for a moment, admiring the way the night sky kissed the horizon. She was still in her towel, though mostly dry now. Willow felt an anxiety that she couldn’t even fathom herself. But at the very least she had some space again. Just her. She opened her window a crack and lit a cigarette. At this point, the cold night did not bother her, sleep had abandoned her, she needed to recalibrate.

Willow understood why her mum was like this, what she didn’t understand was why she was still like this. It is hard to confront behaviours which harm you when you understand why they exist. Ignorance is bliss. And what frustrated Willow was that it was nearly impossible to capture exactly what it was about the behaviours which heavied her heart so much. Perhaps it was because it was all so subtle. Intonation, passive aggressiveness, neediness, all of it. All of it was subtle, that was the problem. When you cater to such personalities, you begin to live in a vacuum which you must fill at the cost of yourself. When pain is explicit and upfront in its intentions towards you, it is much easier to address. But attacks that lurk in the shadows and pounce when no one was looking...? Such things had to be lived, to be experienced, in order to understand. She had tried to vent to her friends once, just once.

“My mum expects everything of me—everything. Girls, I can’t keep doing this.”

“That’s just mums though surely? My mum’s the same, wants me to be doctor or some crap. As if.”

“No, I don’t think so… she's sort of...taking over me.”

“Willow Tree? What? Listen, if it's that bad then you have to tell her. She’s your mum, she has to listen.”

“I’ve tried.”

“No, like an open and honest conversation, a heart to heart? And if she doesn’t listen, then you know where you stand as tough as that is. You know you can always stay with me for a bit if you need.”

I don’t think she even knows what a heart to heart is. Interactions like these often made her question her reality. But what is real, is that the people closest to her don’t get it and that’s fine, good for them. All Willow needed was one person, someone to relate to, to confide in and she would be able to bear it all that much better. She could live with it if she knew that someone cared about her. She could do it. But that was something she would have to hope for in another lifetime. Willow felt her temples soften as she exhaled, dropping ash into the tray on her windowsill.

It wasn't blatantly bad. She lived in a nice area in a nice house, and she had a nice car, and she had a nice job. Life for her should be nice. But as much as she had, she knew that somewhere. Somehow, she was missing something.

Aria

“Myself. I’m missing myself,” Aria said aloud as she typed the words onto her blog.

I don’t mind that people believe what they want to see. I mind when those closest to me choose not to. Yesterday I reached out for help, when I tried to explain to my parents how living with my husband doesn’t feel right, I was met with responses of “well that’s just marriage love, you need to compromise” or “he just loves you darling, everyone has their quirks.”

Ha. Thank you so much for your support. Thank you for trying so hard.

It’s the thoughtlessness. It makes me drift farther than I was before baring my soul. Living like this hurts. It’s supposed to be my life, right? So where am I in it?

She paused for a second as her hands hovered over the keyboard and sighed, her brows furrowed in silent agony. Aria pulled the strings of her hoodie tighter round her head, and groaned aloud.

If she were to go upstairs, back to that bedroom, she needed to release some of this unease she felt boiling up inside her. Aria turned up the volume of the music and went back to typing.

Willow

Willow’s colleague had insisted she download this particular app if she ever wanted to look at ‘the things no one else is really looking at.’ Whatever that meant. And Willow never had any intention of entertaining this request at all. In fact she had been meaning to delete the app. But when she went to skip the song she was listening to, she accidentally clicked on the red icon of her home screen and a post flashed in bold colours across her screen. “When manipulation masquerades as love.” A few cheeky comments were left below. Willow hesitated, then clicked ‘read more.’

Aria

“There’s something very specifically unsettling about a relationship that on the surface displays a level of care, perhaps love? Yet an unsettling, tense sensation lives inside of you. When they ask something of you, you feel the strain in your body. When they offer something to you, you query the distaste that sits in your mouth. They very much need you, so you find it hard to leave. They need you. So perhaps you were ordained for this moment and yet, you don’t need them. Why is that? Where is the mutual reward of the relationship? And to speak up, to choose yourself, would create a disarray you are not prepared for, because it's a reality you've never lived. Can I survive in the wild?

Willow

“Are you my soulmate lol?” She wrote in response. Too sarcastic? Maybe. But it was done now. Willow found it amusing how someone who could possibly understand her was probably just a bot. She took a final puff of smoke and stubbed out the cigarette before heading to bed.

Aria

“Lol bro u good?”

“Emo much.”

“You should see a therapist, thinking of you x.”

Aria stared at the comments wryly. What was she thinking? It wasn’t so much that the comments upset her, it was more the shame of being patronised for her honest pain. Patronised. She should delete it. As her thumb tapped at the keys to do so, a notification popped up at the top of her screen.

W. liked and commented on your post.

Aria looked at the comment, then pocketed her phone and walked up the stairs, her chest a little bit looser than it was before.

Willow

Willow was sat in Café Sol for her Saturday full English breakfast. This was a ritual which brought her so much joy. A meal which she could eat in peace, check. A meal which she could choose without worrying about anyone’s comments, check. A meal where the calories could jog on, check.

Willow could not help but grin as she stuffed her face. She took a slug of her tea to wash the food down and returned to her treasure.

Aria

“Why do you only think of yourself? Do you even love me?” Jason yelped in anguish as he drunkenly threw a glass at the wall behind her. Shards ricocheted harshly.. Aria stood there resolutely. Well, this is new. Aria felt warmth on her hand, she was bleeding. The glass had hit her. Jason’s eyes widened in horror. He ran over to her in a stumbled frenzy.

“Are you okay babe? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I was just upset. I just…I just feel like you don’t care sometimes. Can’t you just try a bit harder?” Jason whined; concern and self-pity oozed from him.

Betrayal momentarily crossed her face, “you think I don't try?” she muttered.

“Ahh crap, you’re bleeding quite a bit,” he cried pathetically. He hadn't heard her. “Just stay there, let me get the bandages.” Jason got up and headed to the kitchen.

“Unbelievable,” Aria whispered in a ragged breath.

“What did you say babe?” Jason called from the kitchen.

But Aria had closed the front door behind her.

Willow

“But Mum, I really needed this day to myself.” Willow said firmly to her mum on the phone.

“Nonsense, what do you need a whole day to yourself for? You really ought to spend time with your mother…who knows how long I’ll be around for.” She trailed, pulling at the right heartstrings.

Willow clutched the phone hard in her hand, screwing her eyes shut in angry defeat.

“Yeah sure, mum I've got to go.” Willow hung up the call before she exploded.

The wonderful breakfast she had enjoyed just moments ago started to go sour in her stomach.

She went up to order something else. She needed to try and savour the moments she had left.

Aria

Aria stepped into Café Sol, her scarf wrapped around her injured hand. This was the only place she could think of. She felt dazed. She couldn’t really register her surroundings. It’s too much. I can’t keep doing this. I’ll go mad. She tottered over to a vacant spot and collapsed onto one of the chairs. Aria leant over the table and burrowed her face in her arms.

Willow

“Hey? You okay?” Willow asked.

No response.

Aria

Aria felt her ears ringing. Her breathing felt shallow. She thought she could hear someone. “Just please leave me alone,” she gently said into the table.

“Here, have some water. And give me your hand.”

*

Aria looked up at the girl ordering her around. She was tall, with long blonde hair and kind eyes.

Aria sat up slowly as the girl pulled up the chair opposite her. As she did so, Aria realised that it was in fact she who had intruded upon the girl’s table.

“Oh, sorry, I didn't realise,” Aria mumbled. "I'll leave in a sec."

“Your hand please,” the girl said, gesturing again.

“Right. Thank you.” Aria stretched her hand out to the stranger.

“No problem. The staff here are really nice, they leant me the first aid kit, and luckily, I know my way around a bandage.”

Aria laughed derisively. “Lucky me.”

Silence made itself present as the girl bandaged Aria up.

“Are you okay?” The girl asked suddenly.

“There’s no point talking about it,” Aria murmured.

The blonde girl looked up at Aria, peering beyond her blue glasses, into her brown shinning eyes. “And why would you say something like that?”

“Because you wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me,” Willow said.

Aria looked at her hazel eyes questioningly.

“Honestly,” Willow probed, “try me. You’d be saving me from being somewhere too.”