The Invitation

Lily could feel the numbness that seemed to cascade down her body, starting from the space at the top of her head, where her brown curls began, and crawling down to the tips of her toes. The only sensation she could really feel was the cut of her fingernails into the palms of her hands, but instead of the sharp sting it should have been, she could barely feel the ache. 

It was a taunt, she knew it in her bones, and she shuddered, making her eyes cast down again to the piece of paper that sat harmlessly on the table in her foyer. She didn’t know why she had even bothered to open it, anger already roiling with the taste of bile in her throat as she tore the thick, cream-colored envelope open. The sight of the invitation made the anger rush up out of her mouth into rage that seemed to suck the color of the room as she made a high, tight noise of frustration. It could have been a scream if she hadn’t held it down, but there were too many gossipy neighbors stacked on top of each other in equally tiny apartments. God forbid Gina from downstairs called the super to report a domestic right now. 

The walls of that studio apartment seemed to close in on her as she imagined the beautiful, new house her childhood best friend would be holding her wedding at. She could almost see the extensive backyard, aggrandized with twinkly lights above, and the most extravagant flowers that money could buy below. Heather had posted photos from the purchase of the house just a year prior, and Lily had only found out because one of their sophomore year classmates had shared it on her Facebook, the post captioned with several congratulatory remarks about Heather ‘working so hard to get where she was now,’ and ‘getting the life that she deserved.’ Thinking about it now, Lily tried to hold onto the comfort of her rage as it slipped from her grasp. Anything not to know those isolating fingers of cold rejection and loneliness that embraced her like an old friend. She scrubbed her hand over her eyes, trying to physically push back the tears that she could already feel boiling up. 

She’d been doing so well. It had been six months since Lily had had more than a passing thought about Heather, or high school. But Heather always had intuitively known when someone hadn’t had their attention on her, and she knew exactly how to grab it back. Lily sighed and started her short trek into the kitchen area, grabbing some 2-day-old chinese leftovers from the fridge, and making herself comfortable in a nest of soft throws and pillows on her armchair. As soon as she had herself settled, she pressed her palms into her eyes, let air fill up her lungs to capacity, and let it out in a rush. Should she… should she go to the wedding? Was there any possibility at all that this was some kind of call for some misguided, overdue truce? The prick of tears from the corners of her eyes was a release she wasn’t ready for, as she found herself unexpectedly and helplessly looking back at a time she’d been so desperate to write over. 

She could still feel the echoes of emotions long past, how all their lives, her heart had been filled with warmth when Heather had turned her attention to Lily, or Lily had made her smile, or laugh. She could feel her heart racing on that day, the first week of junior year of high school, when Lily had nearly vomited out those words confessing that Lily had never met anyone like her best friend, and probably never would. When Lily had told someone that she loved them for the very first time. How Heather’s face had turned to stone and Lily had felt her bewildered heart stop beating. The next day, the dread that carried Lily forward as she walked into the halls of their school, somehow not expecting the whispering and the giggling when she passed by, that illustrated her fall from grace. Watching Heather holding court in the cafeteria with the football player that had been Lily’s boyfriend up until the previous morning. Reading the story of their love on MySpace for the first time, posted by one of the faithful followers who drooled at Heather’s feet. Knowing it had been passed down like a game of especially-evil telephone. That had probably been the first time that Lily had felt the numbness that became so commonplace for the rest of her high school career, protecting her soul from the depression that threatened to make her disappear. 

It felt like a betrayal on top of a betrayal that Sean had believed Heather so quickly, repeating the story of how Lily had thrown herself at Heather in such a vile and sinful way. The affection from that year they were together was erased immediately, as he listened sympathetically to how much Heather had suffered from the discomfort that Lily had inflicted on her that past year. So much for the love she’d seen in his eyes that made her belly roll with guilt. She guessed that his empathy for her had been crushed at the same time as his heart. 

Lily pulled her knees up toward her and took a mournful bite of pork lo mein. Why would they invite her to their wedding? Even as a joke, or a taunt, how would they respond if she unexpectedly showed up? She imagined the shock and regret on their faces as she strode in, pimple-less and wearing that designer dress that she’d thrifted from a store on the upper west side. The money she made, a pittance in the city, would awe her small town neighbors. She huffed out what would be a laugh if she had more cheer. 

The squeak and thump of the front door closing startled Lily into dropping a noodle on a particularly soft blanket. Just the sight of it made tears well up in her frustrated eyes, and she closed them as tight as she could. She could hear the sound of her girlfriend’s jingling keys placed softly beside the invitation. A moment of silence, and then soft footsteps headed toward the armchair that faced away from the door. 

“Lily?” Rachel said gently as she rested a hand on the back of the armchair, “How are you feeling?” Lily felt her face screw up, fighting against the wave of guilt that filled her as she warbled, “Bad,” and finally burst into tears. Even as she wept, there was relief there to have someone with her who she knew loved her back. Rachel’s strong arms were around her right away, as she crammed herself into the armchair with Lily, displacing some of the pillows in her nest. Rachel kissed her forehead over and over as she rocked her, whispering, ‘you’re okay,’ and, ‘let it out.’ As much as Lily knew that her girlfriend was trying to help, she felt guiltier with each word, despair bubbling up inside. 

“Please stop,” she sobbed, “I don’t deserve it.” Rachel removed her lips from the crown of Lily’s head and pulled back with a solemn look. 

“And what could possibly make you think that?” Rachel hummed, brushing away the droplets that cascaded down Lily’s cheeks. Lily felt so helpless to articulate what she meant and continued to cry as she attempted to compose herself. 

“I just…” she gasped, “I should be over this by now. This shouldn’t be affecting me like it is, and it’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Rachel opened her mouth and Lily flapped one of her hands in the air to motion for her to wait. 

“I have so much baggage, and you’re always dealing with me. It’s just not fair,” she finished, her mouth wobbling around the words. By the time she finished, Rachel’s face had moved from solemn to a pinched eyebrow and mouth that indicated anger. Good, Lily thought, she should be mad at me. As her brain blasted that conviction to dance across her mind, there was still hurt deep down, because years of working through these feelings had given her at least a little self-worth. But Rachel blew out a deep breath and spoke clearly and slowly. 

“First of all, that bitch gave you massive trust issues, and how you feel is not your fault.” A small laugh escaped Lily’s lips as she instantly felt overwhelming relief. Rachel continued, “Your emotions do not own you, it is okay to feel them. Second of all, I feel lucky to be able to help you carry that load. And I know if I’m feeling how you’re feeling right now, for whatever reason, you wouldn’t judge me. You wouldn’t be annoyed, or frustrated with me. You would pick me up and support me just the way I needed. I hope I can be half as good at that as you.” As Rachel spoke, she looked right into Lily’s face, even as her gaze was trained downwards, a flush focused on her cheeks. Great heaving sobs wracked her body as she wrapped her arms around herself and pressed her forehead to Rachel’s shoulder, and her girlfriend held her for what seemed like hours. Finally, Lily sniffed to clear her nose and took a deep breath. “I’m thinking about maybe going.” She said quietly and lifted her head up to meet Rachel’s eyes. Rachel blew a puff of air out of her mouth. 

“Okay. Um. What is your motivation in wanting to go to the wedding?” Rachel’s lips were pursed and the concern was etched in the lines of her face. Lily felt herself squirm as she responded, “I’m not a hundred percent sure. I can’t help but feel like I should show up and show them how much better I am now. I want them to look at me and realize that while they’re trying to say that they love gay people now, when we were teenagers, they didn’t hesitate to believe what Heather wanted them to believe. They didn’t hesitate to ostracize me and bully me, and make me feel so alone. Not a single one of them.” She paused for a breath. “And- and a little part of me wants Heather and Sean to see me and feel all those things on their wedding day. I want them to feel guilt and regret, and I want the sight of me to ruin their day.”

Rachel bit her lip pensively and spoke more hesitantly, leaning back a little to be able to better look into Lily’s gaze. “I love you. I would love nothing more than for every one of those idiots to feel shame for what they did. But… we can’t guarantee that that’s how it would go. There is a possibility that nothing would change, and you wouldn’t get what you want. I think you would need to go in being prepared for the possibility that it wouldn’t provide you closure.” Lily sighed and nodded, stating, “You’re right,” and she felt some of the weight fall back on her shoulders that Rachel’s words and embrace had lifted. “I need to not go in with expectations, and I need to know that if I go, I’m not doing this for closure. I’m doing this to see if a white flag was really raised, and see if forgiveness is something I can give them at this point in my life-.” “Wait,” Rachel interrupted, “If you’re going, I’m going, you need to know that. No matter what, I’m going to be right at your back, you are not going to run into a den of possible lions alone.” 

Lily felt buzzy in her fingertips and toes as a reaction to the glow that she felt restarting her panic-stricken heart. “Thank you,” she murmured, and pushed a long strand of hair back behind her lover’s ear. Rachel continued, “Yeah. I’ll be a bodyguard, or a cheerleader, or I’ll help write some ideas on what you’re going to say, name it and I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” And Lily believed that she would. 

“Okay,” Lily said decisively, turning her body and curling up in Rachel’s lap, looking out over the area they called the living room, “I’ll think about it.” Melancholy slipped up Lily’s spine, wiping up the last of the misery and the rage writhing just beneath her skin. 

The sun had started to set, just a little, and it cast the room in golden and pink hues. Lily felt like her world had been changed in the span of what couldn’t have been more than an hour. The exhaustion that she felt from cycling through emotion after emotion had stretched her out and reshaped her into a woman that was a little different than the one that had existed the day before. 

That stretching also felt a little like growing pains. It was the beginning of mending the emotional fissures that at the age of 16, she never expected to heal. There was a new strength that licked through her veins like fire, from knowing that whatever she decided, she would have someone at her side who wanted the best for her. Someone she trusted more than anyone else in the world. And more than that, someone who had made her understand that she was ready to start healing.