childhood best friends. one argument. two kids.
one left by another and they didn't talk again for 7 years.
what happens when years later they meet again in their home town in the grand city of New York?
was it fate or bad luck?
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Ruth.
WE HAVEN'T talked in two weeks.
I wasn't bothered though. Really I wasn't.
He was so mean for no reason, and I had no idea what I had done to make him act that way. And for that reason, I wasn't talking to him or forgiving him because that wasn't fair. You can never be angry at someone without reasoning.
that's just how life works in my eyes.
But, I think what annoyed me the most was that I let myself cave. I let myself finally start to admit that I missed him when he was gone, a lot.
This whole time I never let myself admit that I thought about him more than I wanted too because I didn't want to seem weak. Because I for one am not a weak person.
but now we were back to square one, or maybe not even that so it doesn't even matter.
Right now, I was at home, absolutely bored out of my mind. I was sat on a wooden stool in my kitchen, starting to drift off into my own universe.
After me and Elijah's argument two weeks ago, I remember storming back into the library, grabbing my stuff and leaving. I felt guilty because I didn't even say goodbye to Mr.McRae but I had to go because quite frankly I was hurt, upset.
And it was when I felt that familiar burning in the back of my eyes was when I knew I needed to get out of there because I would not let myself cry over Elijah Carter. Not anymore. Not never. Nor would I let anyone see.
Crying was such an vulnerable action, and the thought of crying freely in front of someone genuinely makes me uncomfortable.
So, not matter how hurt or upset I am in that moment of time, I was never going to cry in front of someone. Though, personally I didn't think crying was a bad thing, because it was a way people expressed their emotions without having to speak or explain. And honestly I think that was great because for some, speaking about their feelings is worse than just crying. I guess I just preferred to do neither and stay silent. Which sometimes maybe wasn't a good thing or even healthy.
My parents were still on their little 'work' trip, whatever they call it. I don't why they even bothered still calling it that, when I knew that they both knew that I understood why they were always gone. But, I think what hurt the most about them never being here was that I had to understand things for my self, I had to learn my through my life by myself. I didn't have my mum warning me about my period, I had to deal with that alone, at school, in the bathrooms, alone. I didn't have my dad telling me about how he was going to protect me from boys when I was older, or cheering me on at my first football match, which I soon quit after I realised that even playing his favourite wasn't enough to make him proud.
They were both never here.
Recently, I've started to realise that somehow I always end up alone. Maybe it was my fate, or even my destiny because at this point, it seemed to be the only that has stuck with me, and never left.
