Love Above all Else

8. We're Just Friends

"Anything is possible when you have the right people there to support you." -Misty Copeland

"I'm sorry." I hate to interrupt, but it is necessary at this moment. "I don't think I like you like that Nate."

"Okay...but why? We have such a great connection and we are best friends. What more could you want?"

"Please don't take it the wrong way, I just don't like you like that. We are good as friends. Why fix something that isn't broken?"

I look over at our group, now only Riley and Chevy, and can feel their confusion. I hate how angry Nate sounds.

"Belle you are being ridiculous. Why don't you like me? I don't understand!" He starts to raise his voice, and at this point, I am even getting a little angry. 

"Nate I don't want to see you like this. You know I don't like it when you get angry." At the mall the other day, I had to intervene when he got mad at a passerby. The person kept bumping into me, and Nate was so bothered by it. He was going to yell at them, but I grabbed him by the shoulders before he could. And now he was scaring me with those same killing eyes. "I have to go. Please don't stay mad at me. You know I love you, just not like that. Tell the girls I said bye."

With that, I exit the building doors and climb into my mom's car.

"Hey, are you okay?" 

"Yeah, mom, just drive."

I stare out the window, listening to the tunes of Kari Jobe, while I begin to cry. I cry the entire thirty minutes home and it takes me an hour after the car stops to go inside. 

~~~~~~

"Dear Journal,

I don't know what to do. I feel like my chest is on fire and my head is drowning. I ruined everything. It is all my fault. Why didn't I just tell Nate I liked him? He wouldn't be mad at me right now and we would all be happy. It is all my fault. I can't even think about anything else right now. My head is constantly thinking of Nate. This is torture. I am miserable and sulking in bed. How did it get like this? I need a friend right now but everyone is asleep. Journal, right now you are the only one I can lean on. I don't want to rant to my friends about what happened. They probably don't even know. This is terrible. I don't know how I am going to make it past this weekend.

Thanks for listening.

                                                                                                                                                             , Isabelle"

~~~~~~

I look at the clock. Ugh! It reads one thirty in the morning, but it feels like not a minute has passed since it all happened. I keep replaying the words over and over again in my head.

"Please don't take it the wrong way..."

                                          "What more could you want?"

               "I don't understand!"

"I don't think I like you like that Nate."

I shake my head trying to rid myself of these nightmares, but it is unfruitful. My best friend hates me. Great. It is all my fault. Today is Sunday, so I have to go to church but I don't think I can. I sit up in my bed and turn on my lamp. The light blinds my sensitive eyes. I get up to distract myself. My puffy eyes and skin stained with mascara stare back at me through the mirror. Why do I let people effect me this way? I feel the sorrow of losing Nate run through my veins. But I don't want to think about that anymore.