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Suggested Listening: The Fray – Never Say Never
I had never cried in front of him. Today, most definitely, wouldn't be the first time. While shoving another piece of random clothing into my duffle back, I held my breath and blinked away tears. I wasn't playing this time. I'd had enough.
Over the months, fear held me here. Knowing that I couldn't survive without him weighed heavily on my shoulders making this decision all that much more difficult, but I had to do something, anything so he could understand. He had to know that I loved him more than my life, but I couldn't handle this situation any longer.
My body was shaking with fear as I zipped the bag closed and lifted my eyes for a split second to his hunched figure on the edge of the bed. His head rested in his hands, his fingers tickling the tips of his spiked hair. I watched him breathe in, then out as shallowly as he could. He was trying to calm himself. The way we fought, the amount of passion we both put into it, tore us apart.
Tears rippled into my eyes. I held them there not willing to set them free, not willing to show him that he had indeed gotten the best of me. No, Jacob Black would never know exactly how he made me feel. I couldn't let him know, not now, not ever. If he knew, then he'd know that he was my weakness; that he alone could make or break me. And now, he was breaking me into a million little pieces.
I grabbed my bag sharply and with intent. Jerking his head up, Jacob's eyes fell to the black duffle bag containing every last possession of mine. He squinted. As questions popped into his head, he erased them and all proof of their existence from his brain and his face. Jacob's questions were more about my actual ability to walk out than why I was leaving. He knew the reasons why.
My feet felt like cement blocks as I began my journey through his apartment to the front door. The second long walk seemed to take hours. As I came closer to the front door, the door that I would make sure to shut behind me, the louder my footsteps became. They echoed in my brain asking me if this was the right decision. Was leaving really my goal? Did I have to go?
The answers to those questions still resided in the bedroom with his head in his hands. All he had to do was prove to me that I was his and only his. I wanted him to make me feel needed, to make me feel like I was a part of his life and not some innocent bystander. Why couldn't he get that? Why didn't he understand that I wanted a life with him, a life that we would call ours?
Everything was silent though, and as I turned back toward the door, I felt a slight resistance inside of me begin to stretch like a rubber band. Sooner or later that rubber band would snap; I was sure of it. So, I moved forward, my heavy feet dragging my emotional body toward the door.
With blurry vision, I grabbed the silver door knob. Holding back the tears became my first priority as I felt the walls of my heart cave in and collapse on themselves. Could it be that I was really making a mistake? Mistakes didn't happen my book. Everything happened for a reason.
I turned back around with stinging eyes to find the emptiness of his living room. The red walls brought back happy memories of when he first bought this place and our two week excursion of painting these walls the most ridiculously brightest red we could find.
A tear dripped from my eye onto my cheek. Quickly, I swipedit with the back of my hand as another one filled my eyes to the brim. I couldn't see anything through the thick tears clinging to my eyelashes.
I would miss him – more than anything. He knew that.
Breathing deeply helped calm down some of the pain burning in my chest. So, I stood with my hand tightly wrapped around the door knob waiting for a sign that I should really be doing this. But, nothing came. Nothing. Not even the man who was supposed to love me, who was supposed to be the other half of me… he didn't even bother to get up and stop me. Did he want me to go?
The burning in my chest became hotter as I slowly twisted the knob giving him a chance to come after me, to finally show me that I was a part of his life. Yet again, no one came to stop me from my mindless oblivion. No one bothered to show me the shaking figure in the next room. No one stressed to me the meaning of walking out on someone else. All I could feel was the pain breathing in my chest and the emptiness echoing in my heart as I walked out his front door, down the hallway, and into the elevator.
As I stepped into the elevator and pressed the ground floor button, I turned with a hopeful heart to the gaping doors that gave a perfect view to apartment 15A all the way and the end of the hall. The tears streaming down my cheeks flooded my body with sobs when the door closed without one sign of him running to stop me.
I wish he would have stopped me like I should have stopped the tears falling from my eyes.