Lily and I had our first fight.
It all started when I tried to shift away from her. I changed our shared seat with Mia, my roommate and classmate. When it was time for lunch, I would lie and tell Lily that the teacher sent me on an errand or that I needed to rest in my room. After lunch came classes, one after another, and when it was library time, I took my books and went straight to the rooftop, far away from Lily.
After the last class, I went straight to my room and stayed there till curfew.
This went on for almost a week, until Lily had enough.
It was on a Saturday morning. She came into my room around 7 a.m., woke me up, and asked straight out,
"Vivian, why are you avoiding me?"
I told her I wasn't, but she didn't believe me. She started crying, telling me she knew no one here except me, that my attitude was hurting her. She screamed at my face until guilt started crawling all over me.
When she finally let out all that emotion, she apologized for yelling — typical Lily, kind and foolish Lily.
Then my conscience began to eat me from within until I gave in.
Mia, my roommate and Lily's deskmate, gave us some space to talk. I said sorry for how I behaved.
I told her I was scared, that I was fighting my trauma from within, and that I needed an hour or two each day to be alone, just to breathe.
She listened quietly, then told me she would only leave me alone during library time. That worked for both of us.
We hugged it out, promising not to ignore each other again.
I wouldn't lie — the days with Lily, though suffocating, were full of warmth.
The days without her, though peaceful, gave the demons inside me room to scream louder.
Now that we're back together, I've learned to appreciate her presence, and she's learned to give me my space.
And for that, I'm grateful — truly grateful.