I met Lizzy two years ago. She was the life of the party, daring, skinny and very dramatic. We were pretty much the same and we hit it off fast. I don’t know why she trusted me with the details of her life. It wasn’t that I had my life under control, I just felt honoured each time she pulled me aside to have a conversation. One day she reached out to me. Her voice was shaky on the phone and I could not understand what she was saying so I rushed over to her place. It was a few blocks away. The door was slightly open when I walked in. Her room was a mess, she was on the floor holding on to a bottle. I rushed over to her side. I was greeted by the strong smell of alcohol coming from her mouth.
What is wrong? I asked.
My life is over. She said with tears pouring down her soft cheeks leaving dark traces of mascara on them. I rebuked her. Whatever it was, surely wasn’t that serious. I was worried about her. Yes, she was the life of the party but I knew she avoided alcohol like I avoided crawling animals. Seeing her in that state was very much disturbing. I got her up and to the bath, and I made sure she brushed her teeth. When she was fully dressed and sober, she opened up to me.
Lizzy had been in a relationship with a guy, she met him at an interview four years ago. She got the job while he did not. He had moved on to something else and they both worked in different capacities. They were in love and she had given her all to ensure that it stayed that way. They lived for each other and they had started making plans to spend the rest of their lives together. The few times I met Victor I thought he was a nice and kind man. I had no reason to doubt his sincerity of heart. He made her happy. She did same. I was only happy when they had decided on their dates.
Then on that day, Lizzy had left work early to retrieve a document she had forgotten at his place. You guessed right. She returned heartbroken. Victor was home but he wasn’t home alone. He had his pregnant fiancée at home with him and he was massaging her. Unfortunately, he left the door open. She was devastated and left him. Lizzy tried to pick up the pieces but not before crying her eyes out. Four years of happiness suddenly became history. Since that day she has never been the same.
No one has a clear picture of what others are going through- their challenges and struggles. It may seem trivial, you may be unmoved by their stories but it matters to them in that moment. We are all broken, the least you can do is to be a source of comfort. No one should have to pick up the pieces all by themselves. Life would be so much easier if we all give our love and attention to those who need it.