Atelophobia (Love is Misery)

now

"You've been crying for two days, Rea, you have to come back to class."

Philo is trying to convince me to leave with her. But no. I won't. There's no way in hell I'm ever leaving this apartment again.

My face is all puffy, my eyes are red, I probably smell disgusting since I haven't taken a single shower since Sunday—today is Wednesday—and I look horrible. I feel horrible. I never want to leave this apartment. Not with the possibility of running into him.

"I'm not going. I don't want to go. Should I just drop out??" I think about it for a minute. I consider it. "I could always work at the coffee shop next to school so I can make your coffee every day and talk-"

"No. And I'm already late for my coffee so I have to go. But you're coming with me tomorrow. Just rest for another day" she says as she closes the door behind her, "and no crying!!" she yells.

I look at the door for a few minutes and sigh. I touch my necklace—the one Ethen gifted me, the one I have never taken off. I added a small key to it. Just so I can never ever lose it.

I get up and walk toward my stuff. The things I never use. The things I purposely never pay attention to. And I take the box. The one I spent my summer working for, just so I could buy it. The one I spent way too much money on, just so I could protect the things that are dearest to me.

I take my necklace off for a few seconds, just the time I need to open the box and put it back on. I feel empty without it. Like I am naked.

I open the box and start crying like crazy. Lamentably sobbing till my eyes hurt and my throat becomes sore.

I will never get over this. Over him. Never. He's my essence. The hole in my soul is in the shape of him. No one else can ever fit there. Why would I want them to anyway? I want him. Just him.

His gifts, books, our matching jewelry, the photos, the letters...the notes. The most precious things I own are in this box. And I want nothing but to experience them again. To be able to be with him. Touch him. Hug him. See him smile and look at me in that way he always did.

I take the first thing I can reach. The letter he gave me to tell me I wasn't his soulmate. To tell me why he loved me. The letter that did nothing but drive me crazy, and make me fall completely at his feet all over again. Just like I did every single day. Just like I tried to forget I was for the past year, even when he wasn't here. Even when he destroyed me.

The fact that he is the one for me. The only one I'll ever love, and the one I absolutely refuse to get over. That's what destroyed me, along with his absence.

I think. So many months. Almost a year since I've seen him. It's been forty-six weeks on Monday. But it is Wednesday now, so that's forty-six weeks and two days. Or ten months, one week and four days.

And every day is another challenge not to beg him to come back. Every day is a reminder that he isn't in my life anymore. That he left.

That I made him leave.

I cry more and just close my eyes. Until someone knocks at the door. I wipe my tears, "I'm good, just go to class already."

Another knock. A musical one, almost. Wouldn't she just use her keys to open the door?

Our door doesn't have an eyelet, and I really don't like it, but it has that metallic chain as a second lock. I usually keep it on to look at the person who knocks without having to open the door completely.

But I hear steps, as if they were walking away from the door. So I open it.

And it's him. Of course it's him. But how did he find me??

He turns around and looks at me. His face lightens. "I knew I heard your voice," he says, walking back slowly. How did I not notice? The knock should have given it away. One knock, pause, three knocks. Like we used to.

"What are you doing here? How did you find my address?"

He stops, "I...I saw that loud girl at the coffee shop and asked her where you were. She sort of insulted me and gave me the address."

"Did you wait for her there??"

"No. It was pure luck, I swear."

"And she gave you the address??"

"She said it out loud" he defends himself, "yeah, loud. There's no other word." He looks at me attentively. For the first time in what felt like an eternity of suffering, I feel myself breathe again.

But the tears are violent and messy and it makes me almost choke. It makes me struggle to keep a straight face. It makes me want to disappear, to stop time and just cry everything out for days. It reminds me of how ugly I must look, too.

All the effort I put into looking pretty. The clothes, the makeup, the attitude, the good behavior. Nothing of it is here, right now. Nothing of what I'm good at. I have nothing to fool him with. He can see right through me. And he can see how miserable I am.

And I hate it.

His eyes switch from one eye to another. He takes another step and I step back. "Andrea."

"Nobody calls me that anymore" I retort.

"Do you want me to call you differently? I can call you whatever you want. Just please, don't close the door on me." I can see it in his eyes. The desperation. He is begging me to speak with him.

"Why are you here??"

He frowns. Like the question never crossed his mind. Like he wasn't expecting it at all. Like I just asked something to which the answer is as obvious as gravity being the reason we don't float in the air.

"Because you asked me to come."