The Green Eyed Monster

Ch. 31

I'm home. It barely even registers, and I don't even remember how I got here. My clothes are still soaked, jeans sticking to my legs, the denim almost black, my top hanging off me awkwardly, weighted by the water. I haven't changed... it hasn't occurred to me. Changing my clothes wouldn't get rid of this chill, it's soaked into me, into my bones, and it's numbed everything, and somehow... it feels like I'm underwater, like it rained so much the world filled up without me even noticing, and I've been breathing in this liquid, letting it fill my lungs and mute everything around me. And I lick my lips, hoping to get a taste of Cat, to remember, but all I get is the taste of rain. She's gone.

Cat's never been gone before. Ever. Even before... when we weren't together... she was still there. She was still someone I went to when I felt like being with someone besides Beck, she was still someone who was... who was the closest thing to a friend I had. She was still someone I could go to, someone I never deserved to have, someone who I was too selfish to appreciate. And there are so many regrets I have about that, about the past, and I wish I could go back and do things differently, but maybe things wouldn't have been any different. I have a tendency of fucking the most important things up. Even if I could just lie to her, or lie to myself, even if I could be a worse person, even if I could be the Jade I used to be, things would be better. I'm being myself, finally, and it's ruined everything. It's reminded me why I didn't want to be me, why I made that stronger, meaner Jade in the first place. Because that Jade couldn't get hurt so easily. For every prick, she stabbed, and she always came out on top. People couldn't get under her skin, but it's hanging off me so loosely now, and everything is getting underneath it. And Cat's burrowed her way to my heart, and eaten out the insides, until she's all that's left in there. No. No, she can't be everything to me. I'm more than what I am when I'm with her. I can... I can stop thinking about this. I can stop wallowing and start fixing this. I can... I have to. I have to fix this.

I lay back on my bed, turning on my side and curling up, staring blankly at my outstretched hands, fists loosely clenched. I flex them slowly, studying the nails, the skin, the muscles. They touched her, such a short time ago. They touched her face, her shoulders, they touched her, and I can't even remember what it felt like. I forgot to memorise it. My hands start to blur and tremble, my eyes feeling hot, and I squeeze them shut tight, my hands clenching again. I come off so together, or at least I like to think I do. I can't handle... anything really. I fall apart so easily, even before. There were days when I'd come home from school and just scream into my pillow, put everything into it and pour it out of me, so I could keep pretending I was strong. These tears are useless, they're so fucking useless. I'm wallowing in my fucking self-pity when Cat's out there. I'm the villain here, and it's a role I thought I was used to, but I keep pretending I'm the hero. And Cat? She's always the victim.

Cat loved... loves me, and I can't even imagine how much she's hurting right now. I was just starting to put the pieces of her heart back together, but then my hand slipped and they're more fragmented than ever. It's worse... what I've done to her is worse than what... what he did. I made her believe that I loved her, I made her overcome her distrust, her fear, and accept it. I gave her hope. And then I stabbed her in the back, stole that hope away. Part of me is hoping I'm wrong, that Cat's more resilient than I thought, but I know that's not true. Every minute I've spent with her refutes that. Whatever little part of Cat was left, whatever part still clung to her heart, I've stripped away, and I'm scared. I'm terrified she might do something, that she'll...

Fuck. I can't... I can't be there, I can't...

I sit up, scrambling off my bed and reaching for my phone, the contents of my bag spilling onto the carpet. And it's so hard to dial with shaking fingers, but it finally works, and I press the phone to my ear, chewing a nail. She picks up. "Tori... Fuck, Tori..."