squashed.

As many of you know, because i posted that hideous photo on my IG story, my finger is fucked.

Cracked, smushed, whatever you wanna call it. She's out of commission. 

I'm writing this because I feel like the sequence of events that led to my index’s demise deserve a story well written and laughably detailed. The message is an old tale, but one that will forever and ever reinvent itself in your life.

Let's begin.

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I had taken this summer off of school to focus on working & saving money, so inherently, I've been working a lot. In doing so, the flaw that is my job started becoming really noticeable. To cope, I am fully immersing myself in my relationships. My boyfriend and I are growing into our own, and doing it all together. We go out more, party, and listen to live music. My friends and I see each other often, updating each other on the beautiful shitstorms that are our lives. I was truly coasting through my days. Feeling light as a feather. I remember thinking to myself, “I wonder how long this will last…”. Short lived, as is anything too good. 

Drama likes to follow me, and I've noticed this throughout my life. It manifests in many forms, and it is not always easy to know when it will catch up to you. 

The month of June has just started, and there has been NO shortage of drama.

My boyfriend and his best friend were having an off moment that lasted a couple days. I’ll spare the juicy details but my boyfriend was really hurt over some of the things that went down. Since I met the pair I have become really close to them and we’ve been wonderful friends. I support them in everything they do, and I don’t expect anything back. That’s what friends are for. But are we just friends? Sometimes I tend to them so much that I may as well be dating both of them, and this thought was especially irking. Why does my need to care and fix kick in when my friends are struggling? Because THAT'S what friends are for?

A throuple without the benefits, and all the emotional weight. 

So it was Friday, June 7th. I’m working the dreaded double. My boyfriend has had anxiety over this issue all day, and all I could do was be there for him. He told me about some of the things that were bothering him, and I progressively got more and more mad for him. Shouldn’t your friends be happy for you when your life changes for the better?

He’s such a sweet guy. He only wants the best for people. He doesn’t deserve to feel the way he was feeling to spare someone else’s feelings. 

But boys don’t talk about their feelings.

So here I am, mid-double, frustrated, tired, and pissed off. I was thinking about how much the whole situation sussed me out. Why now? Why him?

I’m finally heading home around 9pm. I’m tired, sweaty, and hungry, but most importantly just ready to be home and see my family. I make it home, and take the elevator to my floor. Purse in one hand, phone in the other. I’m walking down the hallway, humming a tune. It was friday night, I had a whole plan for myself. I was going to have wine and take a hot shower, shave & exfoliate, and cuddle with my man. 

I unlocked the door, and stepped in, my hand still holding on to the frame. My boyfriend is smoking on the patio, door open, and in a flash the front door slams shut. On my hand. Fucking air pressure.

I clutch it to my chest and fall to my knees. I can’t feel anything. My boyfriend is looking at me like I'm crazy. I can hear a ringing in my ear right before I snap out of it. I look down at my hand, and it is swelling by the second, and blood is rushing down my knuckles. My nail bed, the part of the nail you can’t see, is now in plain sight. 

I had JUST gotten my nails done. 

I was rushed to the ER, and the rest is hazy. All I can remember was wishing my mom was there. 

Here’s the beloved aftermath. 

Honestly, I was in shock for a couple days after. You never realize how much you use your hands until one finger can no longer be used. 

I’ve also never had stitches before so this was really scary to me at first. I get my stitches and nail removed Friday and I'm definitely not ready. 

Codependency can be a real bitch. It entangles itself in all your relationships, forcing you to complicate things just to justify it. It can be hard. Confusing. But worth accepting and facing. 

The night that I came home from the hospital I thought to myself, “What are we doing? Why are we so worried about stupid bullshit when life is so much more than that??”

My finger had to break for me to realize that. 

My boyfriend and my family were there for me that night. They made sure I was taken care of and things were paid for. They made sure I was going to be okay. That means more than you know. 

A couple days later, my boyfriend and I took a spontaneous trip to Mount Bonnell around 9pm. It was beautiful. We stared at the lake illuminated by nothing but the moon. Nothing seemed so hard anymore. 

We’re little people in a massive world. We’ve all got our own shit to deal with. But look what we’re creating. Love is in everything around us because we put it there. I was looking out at him, and just knew… the life we’re making is everything I've ever wanted, and although life feels complicated and impossible, it never really is when you're present, and thankful. 

And fuck what anyone thinks about the way you wanna lead your life. Never forget that you’re the one who has to lead it, every single day. Not them. Make it yours, whatever that looks like. 

And as for the drama, consider it squashed. I’m done.

Keep your hands out of door frames.

xo, zo.