Own Me

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A.N. Tom, from Take Me. Asa Butterfield is the spiciest human alive. I'm just noticing now how little I've actually used characters in this book. Like it's mostly about Darby, and all the other characters just come and go and I think I like that about this book. Anyway, happy reading.

"We are eternally heartbroken."

-Lady Gaga

♔ Chapter Twenty-Nine ♔

Tom hadn't left me alone since I left Isaac standing there, by the cliff-side. He'd stuck to my side, as silent as ever, like a sticky glue. I could hardly even hear his footsteps on the road by my side, and that same repetitive dripping of water, over and over again. Playing with my head, like the tick-tocking of a clock.

"You shouldn't have done that," he whispered, matching my pace down the street. I kept looking forward, though, rather than looking at him. Looking him in the face would just be too painful. It might make me forget my anger, my pain. It might make me actually want to forgive Isaac, when I knew he didn't deserve it.

"Done what?" I asked, but I already knew his answer.

"Left him there," he answered. "Broken his heart."

"He deserved it." Even after I said it, the questions still hung in my mind for a second after.

Didn't he?

Tom sighed. "Do you really think that?"

"He murdered you, Tom. He pushed you over those cliffs without a thought in the world. He deserves to be alone."

"You know you don't mean that. You know everyone deserves to be happy, Darby. Even you."

I stiffened. "This isn't about me, Tom. This is about him."

"Please, Darby. Find it in you to forgive him."

"No," I persisted. "I won't, because I can't, and because I don't fucking want to. So just go, run off, and leave me alone, will you?"

"You don't mean any of this. And you'll realise it, eventually. But when you do, it'll be too late." He vanished, after that.

"I know," I sighed. But I still didn't stop myself, and deep down, I knew why.

Self-sabotage.

I think everyone does it, at some point. Maybe consciously, or maybe sub-consciously. Half the time I'm doing it, I don't even realise until it's all over, and I've fucked everything up for myself, like I was always destined to be unhappy. Even then, we all self-sabotage, I guess some just do it a whole lot more than others.

I'd self-sabotaged nearly everything in my life that mattered to me. Time and time again, I kept on proving to myself how I was always meant to be this way. Alone, and hopeless, and nothing. I wasn't stupid, though. I knew how to reel guys in, I knew all the moves, the games to win their hearts. I'd been playing with boys for years.

It was easy, once you got the hang of it. Most of the time, you just had to crack a smile or give them a certain look, a look of lust or desire. If I winked or bit my lip or leaned in a bit too close to them, that'd usually do the trick. It was as easy as that, finding out what they liked. The ones who fancied you back would either be doing the exact same thing as you, or they'd shy away, insecure. To put it simply, there were two kinds of guys. The shy ones, who'd wall up and become uncomfortable, the guys that are harder to crack. And then there are the confident guys, who'd play along with me. The guys who weren't interested at all would probably just ignore it, or take offense. Either way, I had boys well figured out.

The problem with me wasn't that I feared commitment or being in a relationship, or that I just feared guys in general; I think some part of me always felt not good enough for anyone. So I self-sabotaged it, even when things were going great. I fucked it up, either because I was terrified of the future, or terrified of actually being loved.