Every Man I Liked Was You

The wind whistled past. The rustling of dry leaves made harmonic, meditative sounds. Giggles and laughter echoed from nearby buildings and from rebellious couples still picnicking in the park, even though curfew had passed. It felt like everyone's favorite place to be.

From afar, a loud shrilling voice pierced the air. It sounded distant yet oddly clear. It was either a cry of agony-or a very bad opera singer attempting to hit an octave.

Aside from that eerie shrill, it appeared to be a beautiful night.

The sound could be traced to a bench in the park, which looked like it had completed it glorious years. The area around the bench was quieter. On it sat a girl, her head bowed and hands tucked inside her hoodie.

"Then, who made that noise?"

Suddenly, a squirrel darted past, and the shrill voice rang out again. Once the squirrel had scurried off, the girl stood up. Her long, curly black hair shimmered under the moonlight. Her tennis shoes moved in alliance with her slow, hesitant steps.

As her footprints faded into the dirt path, a voice echoed in her head: "I can do whatever I want. I can be whatever I choose." It faded just as softly as it had come.

She made her way to a nearby bar. The tropically designed door creaked open as she turned the knob. She staggered to the bar counter and sat near the bartender.

Everything seemed to be crumbling before her eyes, like an erupting volcano. Even her words of affirmation-once her lifeline-had stopped working. Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, repeating the mantras of strength and independence. But none of it seemed to matter anymore. Not with this dull, heavy feeling lodged deep in her chest. No matter how many times she told herself she was okay, the feeling remained.

Edna Parker. Who had always wanted to be like her mother-or was it her aunt? Either way, she had spent her whole life striving toward the image of a "normal, successful person" that her mother had painted for her. And now that she had it... why did it feel like everything was in the wrong place?

Her love life had been no better. In every relationship, she was the one who walked away. She didn't value love or emotional connections. To her, they were weaknesses.

She fulfilled her craving for connection by listening to Ann's podcast-it made her feel like she was at least in that world, if not participating in it. Even her mother-her biggest role model-once told her, "Love and relationships are just business deals where two people benefit from each other."

That idea became so deeply rooted in her that she never made real friends.

Once, she even paid her boyfriend a huge sum of money to break up with her, knowing he had deeper feelings for her-feelings she probably couldn't, or wouldn't, return.

"And if love mattered so much," she often thought, "then why did my parents-who were so in love-end up divorced?" A question she could never answer.

Like every little girl, Edna had once longed to love someone forever, like her parents once had, or like the stories she grew up on. But it all came crashing down the day they got divorced.

Her world shattered. Her mother cried constantly. And Edna began to believe that love made you weak.

From then on, she followed only what seemed "real" and "possible."

But now, even that carefully constructed reality was falling apart-and it didn't seem like it would rebuild itself.

A soft tune played in the bar, the kind that could either drown thoughts or bring them to the surface.

Hugo's voice rang in her head-the boy she had paid to leave her.

"You're selfish and unlovable because you've always refused to receive love. Stop being so hard on yourself," he had said before walking away. She never saw him again.

"I was so stuck-up," she murmured, smiling bitterly while swirling the drink in her glass.

It had been three months since she quit her job, hoping to deal with the numb, indifferent feeling inside. But nothing good had come of it. Her proud mother was already tired of what she called her "aimless siesta." In fact, Edna suspected her mother was beginning to lose hope in her entirely.

Her voice was small and tired now. "Maybe it's karma... if it is, I deserve it-for using people," she said, her eyes glistening as she stared at her only audience: a man who looked like he was in his twenties. He was so handsome that she thought he could've been cast as a Greek god-or maybe that was just the alcohol talking.

She bumped her forehead lightly with her palm, hoping to shake the thoughts loose.

"I'm not hard on myself," she said defiantly, countering Hugo's voice.

"Or... was it Hugo who cursed me?" she muttered quietly, slowly giving in to the alcohol.

"What's next for Edna now?" the man asked curiously.

Edna looked at his inquisitive eyes, picked up her steps, and walked out, refusing to answer.

"Let me walk you home," he offered, catching up with her.

As they walked, she muttered to herself about the writing job application she had submitted.

"Is it love I'm searching for... or is it happiness? Why can't I figure it out?"

Or maybe she had figured it out. She was sure it wasn't love-because love wasn't meant for her.

She rambled to the man beside her.

"So... you're confused," he said, smiling.

"What if you end up finding love?" he asked.

"Why should I?" she paused. "I'm most likely to end up chugging a glass of wine with my pets."

She laughed faintly.

"Do you know that my favorite love coach once said, 'If it's not meant for you, it's not meant for you. That is what you want will come, and what you don't want will stay away.'"

She quoted with confidence as she opened the door to her apartment.

The man nodded, just to please her-even though he knew she was quoting the poor coach all wrong.

The rays of the sun pierced through the blinds of a small, dark studio apartment, casting golden lines across the carved wardrobe, a dusty chandelier, and a neatly arranged cabinet lined with bottles of skin products. An alarm clock buzzed loudly on the bedside table, about to ring any moment, and a bed was occupied by a young woman sleeping in a hoodie, her body curled tightly like she was trying to hide from the world.

The alarm rang. Edna sat up slowly, her eyes hollow, staring into empty space with a cold, stone-dead gaze.

"Ahhhhh," she groaned, dragging herself off the bed and into the kitchen. She quickly made some soup-her go-to remedy for a drunk night-and drank it while standing. With urgency, she darted into the bathroom to scrub off the stench of the previous night. One of her most sacred hygiene quotes echoed in her mind: "A good smell keeps bad luck away." And if there was ever a time she needed luck, it was now.

Wrapped in a white towel tightly secured around her chest and another towel tied like an African headwrap, Edna sat on the floor placing her laptop on a small table that was usually tucked under the bed, water still dripping from her skin. She looked like someone hanging onto the last threads of hope. Her eyes were fixed on the laptop screen in front of her, hands trembling slightly as she opened the email that could determine her next move.

Last night was supposed to mark a tribute to her "figuring it out days". She had been trying to rebuild her life from scratch, and this job was supposed to be her big break. Her money was running low, her patience even lower, and if she didn't get this opportunity, she feared she'd fall back into her old life-a life she had tried desperately to escape.

"I got this," she muttered, clicking open the email.

The screen loaded.

"Your application has been rejected."

The words hit harder than she expected. Without any dramatic reaction, Edna slowly stood up, walked to her bed, and sank into it. Her heart felt like it had dropped into a deep, empty pit. This was the first time in her life she had been rejected. She had always been good enough.

Clutching her pillow tightly to her chest, tears spilled down her cheeks just as her phone began to ring. She hesitated, then answered.

"Hello, Eddie. Why don't you have your s**t together by now? Are you a kid? And why are you still on that aimless siesta? You're wasting your time!"

Her mother's tiny, ear-piercing voice cracked through the phone like a whip. Edna ended the call without a word. She sighed deeply, overwhelmed. How could she end the break when her mind kept spiraling? If she couldn't hold onto her grip on reality, then maybe going back to her old life was inevitable.

But the guilt over what she did to Hugo-using him to escape that past-still haunted her. "I can't go back," she whispered, tears flowing until she fell asleep, a voice in her head repeating, "Nothing seems to matter anymore..."

A few hours later, the rhythmic sound of raindrops tapping against the roof woke her. She blinked groggily, then sat up.

"Maybe an outing would cheer me up," she told herself.

She walked to the wardrobe and picked out a short, flared black leather skirt, a white cropped top, and a pair of black boots. "The style is monochrome," she chuckled. She styled her hair into soft curls and grabbed a small Hermes bag to finish the look.

"Fashion makes everything better," she said under her breath as she stepped onto the street.

She walked confidently, her dark skin glowing under the sun, her curls bouncing lightly as she moved. "Not one of these people could guess how I'm feeling," she thought. "Because I look amazing." She smiled slightly at the irony.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee floated through the air, guiding her into a cozy café. She ordered a hot latte and sat by the window, sipping slowly. She observed around her, people were laughing with friends, some engaged in serious conversations, others sitting quietly like her. Despite how her day began, she felt a flicker of happiness. Strange. Edna Parker didn't usually feel this way.

"If I'd known that being around hunans could lift my mood, I'd have done this three months ago," she thought. "Maybe then I wouldn't have quit my job and started over from scratch."

At the counter, she went to pay-but her card was declined.

"That's... rare," she muttered, flustered.

"I'll pay for it," said a warm, feminine voice behind her.

Edna turned to see a woman with long, flowing blonde hair, a bright smile, and almond-shaped blue eyes. The woman handed her card to the barista casually. Her name was Lily.

"She's pretty," Edna thought.

They walked home together, chatting. As the conversation unfolded, Edna felt lighter, as if the weight of the world that had settled on her shoulders was beginning to lift. Maybe that phrase, "two heads are better than one," wasn't such a cliché after all. Talking to a stranger was something she would never have done before-but something about Lily felt safe.

Lily, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice Edna's reluctance to smile. She wanted to ask why she held back, but she did not want to seem intrusive. She settled for exchanging numbers, hoping this wouldn't be the last time they spoke. "Maybe I will get a best friend this time." Lily thought.

"I don't know if this is what happiness feels like," Edna murmured. "But if it is, I don't want to lose it. I want to start having fun again. I want to shatter all my false realities-one by one-and maybe see the world for what it really is. But I'm definitely not breaking my 'no love' rule. That one stays. Love sucks."

Lily didn't understand the full context, but she nodded and smiled. Sometimes, just being there was enough. She understood Edna just needed someone to listen.

They kept walking, steps in sync.

Author's note: Walks make it feels like it's not so far away, And with every step, we get better.

Every day went by quickly, and Edna kept noticing changes in herself. She found them delightful and wanted to keep experiencing them. Things were still tough, though-she had decided not to go back to her job until she felt better. For the first time in her life, she was even defying her mother-something she'd never done before. But with the changes she was going through, changes that felt necessary and freeing, Edna wanted to stay in that space until her mind caught up with her heart.

Lily, on the other hand, found Edna to be a hard nut to crack. No matter how much she tried to open her up, Edna always closed herself off again-tighter than before. Edna hadn't agreed to hang out with her since that day at the coffee shop.

"Maybe my smile really chased her away," Lily thought, feeling a little defeated.

"Quit Notice." The words were boldly written in red on a white sheet glued to the front door. Clothes were scattered across the floor, and her boxes stood open, spilling their contents. In the corner of the room, Edna sat curled up, crying. She had just fought with her landlord, who told her he couldn't keep a jobless tenant.

Who had told him she was unemployed? As far as Edna could remember, she didn't have enough people in her life for that kind of gossip. So who?

Just when things seemed to be looking up, life hit her in the face again. She had called everyone she could think of to tell them her situation, but their responses were always the same: "Get your sh* together,"* without a single solution offered.

"Aren't you getting up?" a voice asked.

It was familiar. Edna looked up and saw Lily standing there. Her face stretched into a forced smile-one just good enough to convince Lily she was okay, in hopes that she would leave.

"Oh, now you can smile," Lily said softly as she began picking up Edna's clothes, folding them neatly back into the boxes. She helped Edna to her feet, took her hand with one of hers, and carried a box with the other, saying nothing.

As they walked down the road, Edna's mind raced. What does this lady want from me? She remembered calling Lily and giving her the address-without saying anything else.

"You must have figured it out after all," she said quietly, half-smiling.

She wanted to cry, but she didn't trust Lily enough yet to break down in front of her.

At the end of the street stood a quiet bungalow with a country flag waving on a pole in the front yard. The image reminded Edna of her grandfather's place. The surrounding houses looked familiar too. Then she remembered catching a glimpse of the gate: "Trav's Estate."

"It's from my parents," Lily said, noticing Edna's puzzled look. "They gave it to me as an inheritance."

The door creaked open. "Get in," Lily said gently.

Everything was blurry-probably from crying too much. Edna sank into the living room couch and drifted off to sleep until evening.

The warm aroma of properly cooked macaroni and cheese pulled her back to reality.

"Oh, you're awake. Come and eat," Lily said, calling from the kitchen as Edna rubbed sleep from her eyes.

After eating, they sat across from each other, a strange silence hanging between them as they waited for one of them to speak.

"I need to leave," Edna finally said.

"Why?"

"I can't stay here. I'll figure this out... somewhere."

"Like?"

"Anywhere but here."

"Stop being dramatic."

"At least I'm not pretending," Edna said with a sigh.

She picked up her box and walked out the door. She just couldn't trust anyone-not yet. She had found it hard to trust since her parents' divorce. And now, she was afraid she was beginning to trust Lily... and that scared her even more.

"Who is there?" a voice called from inside.

Peeking through the peephole, Lucy's expression twisted in distaste when she saw who it was.

"Edna?" she said coldly as she opened the door.

Edna carried her box into her room. When she came out, she found the dinner table had been set.

"Oh, Mum. You made dinner," she said, surprised. It was her favorite dish. She decided to eat, even though she was still full from Lily's cooking.

"You are not welcome here," Lucy said suddenly as Edna cut into her steak.

"Mum?"

"Yes. You can't."

"Why?"

"Because you can't be a failure like your dad!" Lucy snapped. Then, in a calm voice, she added, "Baby, be who I'm molding you to be. That's the only way to be better. And you even came in a taxi-that's disgraceful. What do you think Aunt Frida will say?"

Tears streamed down Edna's face.

"For who? I've always done what you wanted. I built my goals around yours so I wouldn't disappoint you-so you'd think I was enough. But now, I'm facing something that feels like it's breaking me, and all you care about is what Frida would say, and whether Grandpa will still pass the inheritance to me?What of me? Why can't you think about me ? Do you know why I'm sad? It's because now I can see what I've always refused to see that you are the selfish mother that only cares about herself."

She went into her room and returned with a pile of certificates. She threw them down one by one.

"Here-for becoming a doctor like you wanted. Here-for winning the pageant. And here-for going to business school like Aunt Frida's married daughter!"

"Leave!" Lucy shouted, slamming her fist on the table. "I ratted you out to your landlord so you'd be more sensible. But it seems you've finally lost it. You've gone 'daddy' over your life-and I'll let you go, just like he did. I refuse to be your mother anymore."

Lucy pushed Edna out, box and all, and slammed the door in her face.

Edna laughed maniacally. Her home no longer welcomed her, she thought as she walked with no destination in mind. Her feet carried her to Lily's door before her brain caught up. She knocked.

The door swung open, and Lily immediately pulled her into a tight hug.

Tears flowed uncontrollably from both of them. That night, they returned to Edna's old apartment and packed the rest of her belongings without saying a word. Edna cried the whole time.

Suddenly, she embraced Lily. More tears followed. Lily gently pulled her to sit. The silence between them held more meaning than any words could. Edna began to share her story-and as she did, Lily cried too. She saw the side of Edna that had been buried beneath and struggling.

Edna paused in the middle of her story, and they looked at each other in complete understanding.

In that silence, Edna realized something she hadn't before.

She had found a home.