This is my first fic. I know it's kind of sad. Hope you like it though. Reviews are always welcomed. ü Thanks!

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Regretting the Past

Hate.

That's what I've been feeling for the past year.

I hate Dad. I hate Father Dominic. I hate my family. I hate my classmates. I hate my friends. And a lot of my hate is also directed to the person who had part of this – Paul Slater.

But of all the people, who do I really, really, hate the most?

Me.

It's exactly been a year today since I traveled back in time and saved the person I loved from dying. And spending the last moments of happiness in my life in a century that happened years before I was even born. Knowing that when I return back to my time, I will forget everything I ever had with Jesse.

Only I didn't. And neither did Paul, or anyone who knew Jesse for that matter.

Yes, we all remember him. Worst part is, I remember who he was to me.

I still love Jesse. And I'll always will.

But where could it go? He's gone. He's been dead over 100 years. (A/N: given that he lived up to 70 years old. You try to do the math) What hurts the most is that he can never come back. No matter how much I pine for him.

But then again, without Jesse, I had no life. That's why my body has been a hollow shell for the past year. A shell with no soul. I didn't care what happened to me now. Nor, I guess, will I ever.

Not without him.

To tell you the truth, ever since I stepped into my time – after traveling back from the 1850 – my life practically went downhill. A week later, my Mom announced that she was pregnant with her and Andy's child. Just 3 months ago, she gave birth to a baby girl – Megan Ackerman. Leaving me the odd one out, and probably, even the black sheep. Mom never had time for me anymore. She still probably thinks everything is peachy keen with me. But it's not.

Call me jealous, because I am. I'm jealous because my family never had to go through the hardships of being a mediator; never had they have to go through letting go of the person they loved with all their life just so that that person could live; and never had they have to live each day of their life knowing that someone you loved usedto love you back and that it could never happen again.

My grades in school have been unsteady in my senior year. How could I concentrate, really? And I have stacks of slips from detention in my trash can at home. Mostly are from fistfights with Brad or Paul, and one was from a catfight I had with Kelly.

I never even got to mediate a ghost properly anymore too. Let's just say, out of 10 ghosts I was able to send 1 to the Great Beyond. And that was even by exorcism because that ghost was just really pissing me off.

I admit, I'm a wreck.

The beach was the only place I felt welcomed. This was, I guess, the only place I can find solace to my despair. Home was nothing but a place where I just lived now. It was more of a house than a home to me. My room was one of the most painful places I had to bear. It only brought me memories of the times I had with Jesse. The school wasn't really much of a place of comfort for me. So I had nowhere to go, except the beach.

Only right now, there were a lot of people being a Sunday and all. But I had just to contend with that.

Sitting on the beach with my arms hugging my knees, I watched as the ordinary, happy people lolled in the sand. Little children were playing and splashing water to each other. A girl – I recognized as the one who hurled sand in my face as she walked by earlier. I would have kicked her but I wasn't really in the mood for violence right now – was running around playfully while a guy was trying to catch her. Sea gulls were waddling about trying to find some stray food in the sand left by some tourists. As the sun was setting, it's yellow-orange glow contrasted to the Pacific's deep blue. It would have been a nice view if I had someone to share it with.

I sighed.

Jesse… how I miss him so much. How much I crave for him to say my name or call me querida again. How much I yearn to be in the place where I felt the safest – in his arms. How much I desire to taste his lips on mine again.

I want… no, I neededJesse to be with me. To be with me, right now, in my time of emotional and mental anguish.

He was the only person I knew who could rescue me from my wretched state. But he no longer lives…

Don't try to tell me that I should move on. I tried. But I never could. Over the past year, I went on dates. Unsuccessful ones, but dates still the same. One was with Paul but it ended up me slapping him in the face when he tried to kiss me. Another one was from a guy from RLS – a blind date arranged by Jake. Really, he did it – Steve, I think that was his name, but it was fruitless. He was just like Tad – we had nothing in common and he kept on babbling on how good he was in football. Seriously. There were others but I couldn't tell you their names because I forgot.

But none of them couldn't even make me happy for one freaking minute! Well, how could I be happy? All those times, I was just zoned out and I've been comparing them to…

Well, Jesse.

None of them couldn't even come close. Not one.

And Father Dom keeps on telling me that I'm stuck in the past. Ha! He's been right, all along…

And I'm here to prove that.

I'm hung up. I'm stuck in the past and I can't move on, so what? I had every right to. The past had been my ticket to happiness. My happiness was with Jesse. And he was taken away from me. And my whole essence along with it.

Jesse wasn't just the love of my life. He was also like a brother to me. He was my closest friend. My only friend who knew the whole of my secret. And no matter what Paul says, Jesse was also my savior. And as Madame Zara puts it, Jesse was The One.

God, I'm crying again. And on the beach too.

"Jesse," I whispered as I covered my face with my hands. I let out a sob when I remembered that saying, 'When you love something, set it free. If it was meant to be, it will come back to you.' That saying's bull, I tell you. Pure and whole bull. I let Jesse go, I set him free and now, there's no way he's coming back to me. Look where it left me!

I bit my trembling lower lip so that I would stop crying. For the sake of my outward appearance – it would be weird to see a girl crying alone in the beach, you know. I guess I bit a little too hard since I tasted something bitter in my mouth. I knew what it was. I felt it trickle down from one corner of my lip, to my chin, then to my neck. My lip was throbbing but I didn't mind it.

Funny, though, pain was nothing to me anymore. It was wasted on me. Because no physical pain like, a bleeding lip can match the pain of my bleeding heart.