by Mia Kayla
I bit back the tears that threatened to spill over. If he wanted to act normal, I could act normal. I could pretend like nothing had happened between us.
I can do that, right?
I had to do that. I needed to do that to keep him, to have a piece of him in my life, even though he’d never really be mine in the end.
He took a step away, releasing me. His eyes raked me in as if he hadn’t seen me in years, and in that moment, I decided I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t pretend we were okay when we weren’t. I only felt whole when I was trapped in the comfort of his arms. Anything less would be temporary, and it wouldn’t be enough. Eventually, I would die a slow death of heartbreak.
I couldn’t pretend that the love of my life wasn’t standing in front of me right now. I couldn’t act normal and pretend that every time I saw him, I wouldn’t think back to a week ago when he’d proclaimed his feelings for me.
He ran one hand through his hair, a mannerism I’d memorized so well. Then, he let out a low sigh and stalked toward the other side of the living room, seemingly putting some space between us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked softly again.
He still hadn’t answered me.
“The start of the season is in a couple of weeks.”
His shirt and his jeans were wrinkled as though he’d slept in the same clothes. There were noticeable bags underneath his eyes, indicating he probably hadn’t slept in days.
He completely ignored my question as he just paced around the room. “You haven’t answered my calls. Your mom doesn’t know where you’ve been. I’ve been going fucking crazy, Boo!”
I reeled back at his tone. He was the one who had left. He was the one who had rejected me. He had no right—
He interrupted my angry thoughts, “I don’t know if you’re okay. I’ve been going nuts, worrying about you. What’s going on? Why haven’t you been picking up my calls? What the hell, Boo? What’s so important that you can’t call me back?”
I wrapped my arms around my center to steady myself, to keep myself from breaking. In that second, when our eyes locked, he saw it. He realized the depth of my feelings for him and that I had been distancing myself. There was nothing I could say. There was no good enough reason to justify why I hadn’t called him. He knew that I couldn’t handle this friendship anymore.
His eyes broke right before he turned away, and I bit my lip as a tear fell down my face.
His muscles moved under his shirt as he stomped to my kitchen island. “I know what you’re doing,” he said quietly, holding on to the edge of the counter. “I’m telling you right now, you’re not leaving me. I’m not letting you go.”
His shoulders sagged as he gripped the counter tighter. I could see the veins in his forearms surfacing.
“My one moment of weakness.” He shook his head. “Seventeen years,” he whispered, focusing his stare on the ground. “I’ve tried to fight my feelings for you for seventeen damn years.” He let out a heavy sigh. “And in that one moment of weakness, I screwed it all up. Fuck me!” he growled, slamming his fist on the counter, causing me to jump. He fisted the top of his head with one hand and turned toward me, begging me with his eyes. “I’m trying to get us back to where we were, if you would just let me.”
He stalked toward me, and I broke down in tears. I couldn’t keep it together anymore as my body shook with sobs. I tightened my arms around myself and closed my eyes to keep myself upright.
This was it. There was no more pretending, no more distancing. This was the end of everything for us.
“Boo, don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice small like a child’s. “Don’t be my rock, my best friend, and then fucking leave me. I need you.”
He stood inches away from me. I felt him even though my eyes were closed. I could sense his sad brown eyes staring down at me. If I opened my eyes, I might give in, but every part of me wanted to be selfish. I wanted to save myself and stop hurting.
I opened my eyes and stared into the familiar face I’d been looking at for years. “I-I can’t do this. I need a time out,” I choked out the words we’d used when we’d had enough when we were younger. “But for good this time.” My hand flew to my mouth as I tried to minimize my sobbing.
His face fell, and his eyes glossed over, fighting back his own tears. If he lost it, I didn’t know if I would be able to take it.
“We’ve known each other forever. You’re going to give up on our friendship just like that? Can you do that? Because I know I can’t.”
I shook my head as the tears continued to flow, coursing down my cheeks and falling on my lips. What was I supposed to do? I felt so lost. I no longer had any answers—not a right one, not a wrong one.
He framed my shoulders to face him. “It’ll be fine,” he begged, wanting me to believe him. “We’ll be fine. We’ll get over this.”
Tears blinded my eyes and choked my voice. “I won’t.” My voice shook as my insides crumbled, my heart caving in.
I pulled him in by his shirt. It was my last desperate attempt to reason with him, to force him to fight for us. I wanted him to realize that never in a million years would he ever turn out like his father. He would never ruin me unless he kept trying to act like there was nothing between us.
I leaned into him, needing to be closer. “You don’t want to break me like your father broke your mother?” I whispered. “But this is destroying me right now. What you’re doing is hurting me.” I read his indecision in his eyes, giving me the courage to keep on going. “We can’t just be friends, Jimmy,” I sobbed. “I’m in love with you. I can’t turn that off.” I laid it all out on the table in a desperate plea.
He tightly shut his eyes as if he were in pain. “I-I can’t.” His words said one thing, but his hands did another as he pulled me toward him and wrapped his arms around my waist.
I wanted to be with him so badly that it hurt. I had never experienced a desire to be with someone before Jimmy, but this feeling of intense longing was too much for me to physically take without breaking.
I had watched this boy grow into a man. It wasn’t fair that someone else would get to keep him when in my heart, in my mind, in the deepest part of my soul and with my whole being, I knew he only ever belonged to me.
I wasn’t the aggressive type when it came to men, but I took a leap of faith and lifted my chin toward him, hoping and wishing he wouldn’t turn me away. He gazed down at me, holding my eyes with his. I waited, wanting him to meet me, for his lips to meet mine. I swore, we both stopped breathing.
A shudder passed through him as his eyes flickered to my lips. “Have you ever wanted something so badly that it’s all you think about, all you dream about?” he whispered. He lowered his head further, our lips barely touching. “Have you ever wished you were a different person, that in another life and time, you knew you would’ve had a chance?”
He pulled his hands from my waist and then cupped the sides of my face. “You deserve all the good things in life—to be happy, to be in love. All your dreams are going to come true, Boo. Every single one of them is gonna happen. I’m going to make sure you get the good things in life because if anyone deserves them, it’s you. I’m not going to be the one to take those things away.” He exhaled deeply and rubbed his thumb against my cheek. “I’m doing this because I love you.”
Rejection seeped into my skin, and I dropped my eyes from his, focusing on the TV. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to pierce my skin. Maybe if I concentrated on the pain, I could ignore the heat behind my eyes and will the tears to stop from falling.
I shifted away from him and wrapped my hands around myself, trying to hold it together and preventing myself from falling apart in front of the only man who had ever seen me broken.
A beautiful girl in a perfume commercial flashed on the TV, and I tightened my hold around myself.
“Sometimes, I think,” I said, blankly staring at the TV, “‘What can I do? Who can I be to make you look at me the
way you look at them?’ I want to be beautiful enough to keep you, to make you love me.” My voice broke.
He reached for my arm, pivoting me to face him. “Don’t you understand? You’re too good for me. You make up these women in your head when it’s only ever been you.” He shook his head. “Shit, Boo, I’ve never been in love before you. The way I feel for you, the way I love you—it’s crazy. It’s only been you, and it’ll forever be you. Can’t you see that?” he pleaded for me to understand.
What did he want me to understand? That he loved me and that should be enough? That I shouldn’t want him and want us to be together? That it was okay if he loved me and I loved him, but we had to be with different people?
The idea turned my blood cold. I lifted my chin, feeling defiant because he made no sense. “Are you going to be fine with just being friends and me finding another guy? Are you okay with that?”
If he wanted to remain strictly friends, then it was inevitable that he would find someone else, and I would as well.
My insides crumbled at the thought.
A desolate look passed his face. “I’m not cool with that, but I’ll make myself be okay with it. I’ll force myself to be okay because…I love you,” he said slowly. “I’m going to be that guy standing by your side when you walk down the aisle before saying your vows to another man…even though it will kill me the whole time.” His eyes glossed over. “I’m going to smile the entire time even though my insides will be dying because I’ll be wishing that it was me,” he whispered.
“I’ll be there at your little girl’s birthday every year—the little girl with her large blue eyes who will be as beautiful as her mother. When she sits on my knee, I’ll hug her close. All the while, I’ll wish she were mine, that she were ours,” he said as the first tear fell on his cheek.
“I’m going to do all those things because you’re my best friend. I’m going to do those things because I love you above all else, more than I love myself. I need to give up on what I want in order for you to be happy. I need you to be happy. I need you to be okay.”
“Neither of us will ever be okay,” I said softly, knowing what this boiled down to. “You’re not him.”
“My life has been set in motion for a long time, and I can’t chance it. You didn’t see my mother when I admitted her. I can’t chance anything when it comes to you. I don’t want to break you.”
It was final. I could see it in his brown eyes. His decision was set, and he wasn’t budging because he thought this was the best for me. An overwhelming sensation of intense desolation swept over me as I stifled a cry before I spoke, “I can’t, Jimmy. I-I just can’t pretend anymore.”
“Don’t, Boo,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I promise it’ll be how it was before. I promise.”
“You know that’s not true. How could it be?” My tears spilled over. I couldn’t force myself to bring our relationship to just friends. It would be fake, forced, and I couldn’t do it.
He cradled my head in his hands. “Please don’t,” he said, letting out a low sob. “I don’t know how to live my life without you in it.”
He winced as though every one of his muscles on his face hurt. He rested his forehead against mine. “I promise,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “if you’d just let me.”
My heart sank to my toes at what he was promising to do, to take things back to how they had been before, to make everything—us—normal. I closed my eyes, feeling my jaw tense. This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t being fair.
He lightly tapped his forehead against mine. “Pl-please.” His voice broke.
At any second, I was going to lose it. I kept my eyes shut because if I opened them and looked into his pleading eyes I knew so well, all my self-restraint would be gone, and I’d cave to a promise I so didn’t want him to make.
We were only inches apart. I felt his warm breath on my face, and all of me wanted what we’d had just days ago. I wanted to kiss him so badly. It physically hurt me not to. So, I closed the gap between us, and I did. I breathed him in as if it were the first breath I’d taken in days. I let it fill me, making me whole, and momentarily, it relieved the physical ache in my heart.
For a brief moment, I had a glimmer of hope as he kept his lips connected with mine, pressing me flush against him. But in the next second, that glimmer was destroyed as he pulled away, and he let out a sigh of finality.
My heart dropped, and my world bottomed out yet again.
Rejection seeped in, deep into my skin, drying up my tears. I clenched my jaw, pushing all the sadness down, as I pulled away from the person who was my everything.
Maybe if I’d never had a taste of what could have been, I would have been satisfied with how we had been, but now, I never could be.
Opening my eyes, I pulled away, knowing this would be the last time.
I noticed the wetness on his cheeks matched mine. The last time I’d seen Jimmy cry was at my father’s funeral. Now, he was crying because of us. But this was his decision, his choice.
I took a step back. Unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “You’re going to regret this day, and it’s all because you’re scared, too scared to take a chance on us.”
He started to cry, but by then, I’d had enough. I stormed off to my bedroom but not before I caught sight of him drop to the ground, falling to his knees as tears coursed down his cheeks. I walked into my room and slammed the door shut behind me. I had left everything on the table, and he was still choosing his fear. So, this time, it was me who had walked away.
The next morning was the first time Jimmy didn’t make his regular call. It was then when I knew that our friendship, as I had known it, was over. When my father had died, my mother had said that he had taken a piece of her to heaven, and a part of her had died as well. As I lay in my bed, I could empathize with her. I felt hollow inside, dead. It was as if Jimmy had taken a piece of me with him, and I wasn’t whole anymore. He’d left me broken.
I gripped my blanket closer and wiped tears from my eyes. I wondered if the hurt would ever stop. I wondered if I’d ever feel whole again or love someone else the way I loved him.
I begged for sleep. I wanted sleep to take me, so I could stop thinking. Maybe if I slept, I could dream, drift into a world where I was happy. Maybe I could dream myself to a week ago when the love of my life had finally been mine.
I tightly closed my eyes and begged, Please, please, please, sleep…come.
The banging on my door had me flying forward in my bed. My eyes were almost welded shut, swollen from all the tears. As I rubbed at my sore eyes, I got out of bed and trudged toward the door. When I opened it, Kelly stood outside, and again, I started to cry.
“Oh, honey,” she soothed. Running a hand down my back, she walked me to the couch and took out her phone. “I’m ordering a pepperoni and sausage deep dish pizza.”
“Jimmy loves deep dish pizza,” I wailed.
“Screw Jimmy. Forget pizza. I’m going to order us some food for your soul. Mexican, baby.”
She placed the order while I continued to sob beside her. When she hung up the phone, she turned to me and held my shoulders.
“Bliss”—she shook me hard and jolted me upright—“you need to repeat after me. I’m going to find a way to make it without him. Say it,” she commanded.
When I didn’t speak, she shook me again. “Go on.”
“I’m going…” I swallowed down the lump in the back of my throat. “I’m going to find a way to make it without him.” I barely got the words out, but I wanted to believe they were the truth.
The next days trudged on.
Thank God for Kelly. She was my rock in my world of despair. I guessed someone had to be since I didn’t have Jimmy anymore. She made sure I didn’t fall into a depression, jolting me into reality from time to time and telling me that she thought having the blues might be hereditary.
She was obviously joking, but still.
When she insinuated that I might be falling into a
depression, I forcefully perked up. I’d been down that road once with my mother. As heavy as my heart felt, as empty as I felt inside, I tried my hardest to get out of bed every morning and go to school. Just like Jimmy didn’t want to be his dad, I didn’t want to become my mother. I didn’t have a lot of hope, but I had enough to push me forward every day.
Evan had called me and left two messages. He’d left the first message when I was with Jimmy. Maybe it was rude not to call him back, but I didn’t have it in me to fake it anymore. I couldn’t pretend that everything was fine or explain what was going on. I had no desire to put on a happy face when I felt the polar opposite. I didn’t have a pretend happy face to put on.
Kelly understood, and I didn’t have the energy to clue someone else in on my drama-filled life. I put all my energy into waking up, going to school, and moving on. Graduating early was my newfound goal in life.
When Evan had left a second message though, I decided I should at the minimum tell him to stop calling, so he’d stop hoping. That was the right thing to do.
“Hey, Evan,” I said when he picked up.
I threw my keys on the counter, dropped my book bag on the floor, and made a beeline for the couch. I was tired from a long day of classes. After a minute, I felt the exhaustion oozing out of me as I spread out, lying on the cushions.
“Bliss?” He let out a carefree laugh like he was surprised to hear my voice. “I was seriously going to stalk your apartment. You didn’t seem like the type to drop a guy cold. I thought you’d at least call to let me down easy.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…I’m going through some things.” I kicked my feet up and threw my arm over my eyes. I wanted to get this over with quickly.
“So, is this where you say, ‘It’s not you. It’s me’?”
“Evan,” I exhaled.
“Where are you?” he asked, undaunted by my unenthusiastic tone. “I’m picking you up.”
“Home.”
“Get ready. I’m taking you to dinner.”