to
watch. It seemed like every damned channel was playing some sappy
bullshit romance movie, to which I yelled “Boo!” at the
television at the top of my lungs. The neighbors probably thought I
had gone insane, and they wouldn't be far off the mark.
I woke up in a puddle of vomit on the living room floor the next day.
How I had survived the night, I didn't know. My father's bottle of
tequila was halfway gone, and I didn't remember much of what I had
watched. Class had already begun, and I was far too ill to attend.
I spent the day curled up in bed, nursing my hangover, drinking water
and vomiting stomach acid. The vomit could wait to be cleaned up
until later. It wasn't going anywhere, and neither was I.
Colton called to ask why I hadn't been to class, sounding genuinely
worried. When I told him that I was hung over, he asked if I needed
him to come take care of me. It was a sweet thought, and while it
certainly would have been nice to have been pampered and cared for, I
really didn't feel like being around anyone. At least, he didn't seem
upset about my rejection on Saturday. He never brought it up, so I
figured everything was okay between us.
That night, I stared at my phone, wondering if I should even bother
sending Damien his nightly text. If I did, and he didn't respond,
that meant we were over.
Did I even want a relationship with him anymore? When I had been with
Colton, I was confused, but I knew where my heart was. Now, I wasn't
so sure. This fight had provided me with an opportunity, an easy out,
if I wanted to take it, if I hadn't already taken it. Besides, who
was the one willing to rush to my side and take care of me? It wasn't
Damien. That was for sure.
Against my better judgment, I did text Damien, telling him I had
stayed home from college, and I was sorry for the way I had acted.
Then I stared at my phone until I passed out, waiting for him to
respond.
In the morning, I had zero text messages. There was my answer. It was
over between us.
I went to school with a heavy heart and a tear-stained face. My mind
was filled with regret, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a
corner and die. If I hadn't taken Monday off of school, I would have
definitely stayed home, but I couldn't afford to get any further
behind. Between classes, I cried in the bathroom. During lunch break,
I sobbed over my sandwich. The day was absolutely miserable.
When I blew Colton off to hang out after school, he looked concerned,
but didn't press me. Part of me was thankful, since breaking down in
front of him would have been embarrassing. But the other part of me
just wanted to be held and comforted. I wanted warm arms around me
and a soft voice whispering in my ear that everything would be
alright.
For that, I went to my mother's house. When I showed up at her door
in all of my miserable glory, she embraced me immediately, and when I
told her what had happened, she said all the things I wanted to hear,
that Damien wasn't good enough for me, that there were other fish in
the sea, that my heart would mend with time. How much time? How long
would it take? I had suffered heartbreak before, but it had never
felt so horrible. Maybe it was because Damien had been out of my
league from the beginning. It wasn't natural for us to be together. I
never should have had him.
My mom and I ate ice cream and watched Animal Planet together until
it was so late she practically had to kick me out. We exchanged a
lingering embrace before I finally left and headed home, feeling a
little better. The uncontrollable sobbing had stopped, and the tears
had dried on my cheeks. At least, that was an improvement.
Before I fell asleep that night, I sent Damien another text, though I
didn't know why. In the morning, there was no response again, which
only made me cry some more. He was avoiding me. Knowing that hurt.
While I was still upset, I was able to keep the sniffling to a
minimum. Occasionally, a happy memory of Damien and I together would
invade my
watch. It seemed like every damned channel was playing some sappy
bullshit romance movie, to which I yelled “Boo!” at the
television at the top of my lungs. The neighbors probably thought I
had gone insane, and they wouldn't be far off the mark.
I woke up in a puddle of vomit on the living room floor the next day.
How I had survived the night, I didn't know. My father's bottle of
tequila was halfway gone, and I didn't remember much of what I had
watched. Class had already begun, and I was far too ill to attend.
I spent the day curled up in bed, nursing my hangover, drinking water
and vomiting stomach acid. The vomit could wait to be cleaned up
until later. It wasn't going anywhere, and neither was I.
Colton called to ask why I hadn't been to class, sounding genuinely
worried. When I told him that I was hung over, he asked if I needed
him to come take care of me. It was a sweet thought, and while it
certainly would have been nice to have been pampered and cared for, I
really didn't feel like being around anyone. At least, he didn't seem
upset about my rejection on Saturday. He never brought it up, so I
figured everything was okay between us.
That night, I stared at my phone, wondering if I should even bother
sending Damien his nightly text. If I did, and he didn't respond,
that meant we were over.
Did I even want a relationship with him anymore? When I had been with
Colton, I was confused, but I knew where my heart was. Now, I wasn't
so sure. This fight had provided me with an opportunity, an easy out,
if I wanted to take it, if I hadn't already taken it. Besides, who
was the one willing to rush to my side and take care of me? It wasn't
Damien. That was for sure.
Against my better judgment, I did text Damien, telling him I had
stayed home from college, and I was sorry for the way I had acted.
Then I stared at my phone until I passed out, waiting for him to
respond.
In the morning, I had zero text messages. There was my answer. It was
over between us.
I went to school with a heavy heart and a tear-stained face. My mind
was filled with regret, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a
corner and die. If I hadn't taken Monday off of school, I would have
definitely stayed home, but I couldn't afford to get any further
behind. Between classes, I cried in the bathroom. During lunch break,
I sobbed over my sandwich. The day was absolutely miserable.
When I blew Colton off to hang out after school, he looked concerned,
but didn't press me. Part of me was thankful, since breaking down in
front of him would have been embarrassing. But the other part of me
just wanted to be held and comforted. I wanted warm arms around me
and a soft voice whispering in my ear that everything would be
alright.
For that, I went to my mother's house. When I showed up at her door
in all of my miserable glory, she embraced me immediately, and when I
told her what had happened, she said all the things I wanted to hear,
that Damien wasn't good enough for me, that there were other fish in
the sea, that my heart would mend with time. How much time? How long
would it take? I had suffered heartbreak before, but it had never
felt so horrible. Maybe it was because Damien had been out of my
league from the beginning. It wasn't natural for us to be together. I
never should have had him.
My mom and I ate ice cream and watched Animal Planet together until
it was so late she practically had to kick me out. We exchanged a
lingering embrace before I finally left and headed home, feeling a
little better. The uncontrollable sobbing had stopped, and the tears
had dried on my cheeks. At least, that was an improvement.
Before I fell asleep that night, I sent Damien another text, though I
didn't know why. In the morning, there was no response again, which
only made me cry some more. He was avoiding me. Knowing that hurt.
While I was still upset, I was able to keep the sniffling to a
minimum. Occasionally, a happy memory of Damien and I together would
invade my
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