Finding Zoe

24th December 2024 “Zoe! Zoe! No!” That was the last thing I heard before darkness consumed me. A sharp knock on the door echoed in the distance as my world crumbled beneath me. On Christmas Eve, of all days, I fell in both a literal and a figurative sense. It turns out Alicia, my neighbor, was my savior that night. I woke up to a sharp, pounding headache in an unfamiliar hospital bed. My eyes fluttered open, and there she was, Alicia, sitting beside me, a mix of worry and relief on her face. In her hands was my journal. “Where am I?” My voice was hoarse and resembled a faint whisper. “You’re in the hospital,” Alicia replied, her warm brown eyes locking onto mine with a gentle intensity. Her tone was calm, but her concern was plain. “Hey, Zoe, are you okay?” I winced, touching my throbbing temple. “My head… What happened?” Alicia leaned forward. "I found you on the floor because you'd taken a heavy dose of fentanyl. I was dropping off your Christmas present and got here in time. Thank God I did, or else I would have called for help too late." Tears welled up in my eyes. My gaze shifted to the journal she held. “Oh, this?” Alicia said, noticing my glance. I found it near your bag. I wasn't snooping, I swear, I… I wanted to understand.” I turned my head away, guilt and shame flooding my chest. Outside the window, the world seemed oblivious to my despair. Snow fell in gentle waves, blanketing the city in white. Christmas lights twinkled in the distance, their glow a cruel reminder of the joy I couldn’t feel. “You’ve always loved Christmas,” Alicia said in a gentle tone as if reading my thoughts. “Not anymore,” I whispered. “Not since…” My voice trailed off; the memories were too painful to put into words. “What happened, Zoe?” she asked again, her voice gentle but persistent. I took a shaky breath. “It’s Christmas Eve. The streets are alive with the Christmas spirit but for me? It’s another cold, empty night. The snow only makes me sicker. The chill… It’s not the weather. It’s inside me too. Everything feels frozen.” Alicia frowned, leaning closer. “Zoe, talk to me. Please. What happened?” I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s another Noel Eve. Another year of pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.” Alicia’s gaze softened. “I don’t mean to pry, but… is it okay if we talk about this?” It felt like forever since I had last wanted to be so open. I nodded, but only after a moment's hesitation. I gestured toward the journal. “You want to know what happened? Read it.” She hesitated, her fingers brushing against the worn leather cover. “Are you sure?” I acknowledged with a tilt, unable to speak. The journal was my sanctuary, a place where I poured everything I couldn’t say aloud. She opened it to the first page, her brow furrowing as she read the bold, scrawled words: “I’m a girl. Not a heroine, not a villain, but a girl trying to find her place in a world that never feels like home.” Hello, it’s Zoe here. Please, get nice and comfortable, and grab some popcorn, because the story is about to begin. Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to tell you about myself; if you're an enthusiast of love, family, and money, especially love, it makes my chronicle even better. I am a 24-year-old woman, standing five feet tall. I like to think I’m pretty, bold, fair-skinned, with a pointed nose and decent curves. Not perfect, but attractive enough to catch someone like Luca. He was the man I thought would be my forever. Luca, 28, is a charismatic billionaire. He founded an AI company that revolutionized how businesses use technology. He is charming and handsome and enjoys remarkable success. Oh, and did I mention he’s my ex-boyfriend? Or rather, my ex-best friend Jasmine’s ex-lover first. Yes, Jasmine (or Jazz, as everyone calls her) used to be my best friend. At 26, she’s beautiful, sharp-tongued, and always the center of attention. But that’s a story for later. Gwen, my 45-year-old mother, is mentally unwell and acrimonious. My father, Nathan, abandoned us when I was five. My younger brother, Noah, is 12 years old and suffers from a critical illness. He’s the reason I’ve held on for so long. I thought moving to Canada to stay with Jazz would be a fresh start. I thought this writing gig I landed would be my big break. And Luca was my chance at love, not. But life? Life had other plans. At first glance it was love. But now, I realize it was an obsession with his looks. Like other bittersweet love stories, ours had a twist. It was unpredictable. It had bittersweet moments, but no happy ending. I never believed in love. So, I stayed single for a long time. I felt impressed by how I loved him beyond my soul from the first day I met him. It was more than any physical connection could bind us. We were perfect, or so I thought. I didn’t lose you; I lost the version of myself that I believed in forever. Missing you was the hardest thing I’ve had to deal with every day. The intimacy of someone waiting for you the whole day to have a small conversation with you is profound. I wanna say f**k love, but it’s all I ever wanted. I closed my eyes as the memories rushed in like an unwelcome tide. “It wasn’t supposed to end this way,” I whispered. You know my mom would always say the one person you love the most also teaches you to never love like that again; she is right. Alicia looked up at me, her face soft with understanding. “Zoe, I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you. But you don’t have to carry this alone.” I bit my lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. “The city is lit up with the Christmas glow,” I said in a soft voice, my voice trembling. “But it feels like the darkness inside me is all I’ll ever know. Meeting Luca gave me hope. I thought… I’ve found something real.” Alicia glanced at me, her expression unreadable. “Go on,” I said, my voice a whisper. She continued reading aloud. “They say love can save you, that it can heal wounds you didn’t even know you had. When I met him, I believed that.” “Luca wasn’t a man; he was an idea. A symbol of everything I thought I wanted. But love, genuine love, isn’t about symbols. It’s about seeing the cracks in someone’s façade and loving them anyway. And when his façade crumbled, so did I.” Alicia paused, her eyes searching mine. “Zoe… this isn’t about him, is it?” I looked away; the weight of her question was pressing down on me. She flipped to another page. Her fingers brushed against something tucked between the sheets. A note. She unfolded it, her brow furrowing as she read: “Souls don’t meet by accident. Meet me where it all began.” “What’s this?” she asked, holding it up. My stomach dropped. I have no idea how the note ended up in my journal, but the handwriting was unmistakable: Luca. “I don’t know,” I lied, my voice a faint whisper. Alicia’s gaze lingered on me, her concern deepening. “You see endings; I see new chapters, Zoe. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out. Together.” Her words were a lifeline, but they felt like an echo in the storm raging inside me. The snow fell outside. I couldn’t shake the feeling. The note was a sign of something bigger. Something I wasn’t ready to face. My mind drifted back to the day I met Luca on Christmas Eve a year ago. The memory was vivid, bordering on cruel. The lights, his voice, the way he smiled at me. It felt like a fairytale. But fairytales don’t prepare you for what comes after. They don’t teach you how to pick up the pieces when everything falls apart, that silence after acceptance.