“I got your text.”
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My head whipped around at his voice, pausing me in the middle of my uncomfortable pacing.
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“What do you want to talk about?” He held his arms out impatiently.
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I froze, not knowing what to say. We were the only ones on the porch. Everyone else was inside enjoying the party.
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But I couldn’t.
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“I leave tomorrow,” I reminded him.
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“I know,” he responded quickly.
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I clenched my jaw, almost mad. “That’s it? After all these years? You weren’t even going to say goodbye?”
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He leaned on one leg, looking anywhere but at me. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
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No. I wouldn’t cry. Not again.
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He continued. “I was hoping you would leave and both of us could just forget.”
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“You would want to forget? You want to forget all five years?” I stared at him in disbelief.
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He finally found the strength to look at me. “Maybe if we forgot each other we could forget the pain.”
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I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, then opened them again. I decided to approach the conversation differently. “How were you hurt?”
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“You led me on.” He answered so quickly I’m sure he has had this conversation in his head just as many times as I have. “You acted as if you liked, maybe even loved me, then just left.”
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“I led you on?” The threatening tears were becoming harder and harder to hold back. “What part of what I did made you think I led you on? I genuinely liked you! Yes, maybe even loved you. If could have seen the way I smiled while texting you late into the night, or trying to suppress my laugh while calling you, you would know I didn’t ‘lead you on’. It was real. All of it.”
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“Then why did you leave me?” He was now staring me down, which I decided was much more terrifying than when he wouldn’t look at me at all.
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“I started to feel…” I trailed off, looking up at the sky. Neither of us were good at these sort of conversations. “I started to feel like it was fake. Because no one, never, would choose to love me.”
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“I did.”
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Our eyes connected. I couldn’t breathe.
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But I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t go back to all that pain. I couldn’t go back to all the tears and screams. Not after it took so long to escape.
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“You know we would never work out.” I finally found my voice. “We would fight too much. About everything.”
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“You don’t know that.” His voice was too calm.
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I took another deep breath. We stood in silence for a moment before the screen door opened.
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Bryce walked out onto the porch and assessed the situation. You good? He mouthed to me.
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I nodded swallowing.
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I took one last look at my argumentative opponent. Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything I stepped around him, continuing the silent treatment we had been giving each other for months now.
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Bryce stood at the door while I stepped inside, his hand on my lower back, protectively.
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I stepped back into the room, enjoying the remainder of the party before I finally left, leaving all the hurt behind me.
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