The Rebound Agreement ✔

twenty-five

[unedited;
if you left comments as you read, I would be excessively happy]

As I near the two month anniversary of my separation with Liam, I start becoming disgusted with myself. I sit around moping all day, naively waiting for Liam to announce his love for me or for time to magically erase all the pain. Neither of these things happen, and I soon accept the fact that the only way I will ever not be miserable is if I make a point not to be.

But being happy is easier said than done.

I start small: changing my major. This may not seem like a small thing, and it isn't, but after thinking about switching for months, it seems much easier to do than all the other things that I need to accomplish in order to be happier.

After a lot of thought, I settle on civil engineering. Even though accounting isn't the thing for me, I still love math, and the math involved in civil engineering is different enough from accounting that I'm not worried of growing bored with it, too.

My parents voice concerns once I tell them that I'm switching majors, but after they're convinced that I'm committed to sticking it out with civil engineering, they're happy for me.

And I'm happy, too. The more I learn, the more I'm excited about engineering, and the change does make me happier, to some extent.

But being a little bit happier doesn't stop me from thinking about Liam all the time.
Because the sad thing is that this rebound agreement worked for one of us, and that person is me. If dating and falling head over heels in love with a guy who was head over heels in love with someone else the entire time isn't out of my comfort zone, I don't know what is. So Liam fulfilled his side of the deal: I'm out of my comfort zone. I am the only one who failed. I couldn't make him like me more than he liked Amber.

But truly, I don't think that Liam wanted to get over Amber, and if you don't try to get over someone, you never will. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. It makes me feel better about being in love with a guy who doesn't love me back.

And maybe one day I'll be able to say that I've done something that Liam hasn't; I'm going to try to get over Liam. I'm not going to sit around moping, waiting for him to gallop back to me on his white horse.

But moving on is much easier in concept than in action. When a guy from one of my new classes asks me on a date a month later, blushing cheeks and all, I'm already formulating excuses for being unable to go before I catch myself.

I hesitantly agree, and immediately wish that I hadn't afterwards. As the day of the date approaches, my nerves increase, because the only real dating experience I have is with Liam. And I'm doubtful that our strange relationship counts as dating experience.

Somehow I work up a stomach ache from a mixture of nerves and dread regarding my date with Ben, and it takes everything in me to not call him an hour before our date is scheduled and tell him that I'm too sick to come. When he comes up to the door and knocks two minutes earlier than the scheduled time, I sigh, answer the door, and try to force myself into adopting a more positive attitude.

It doesn't work.

Nervously, I twist the door knob and open the door to reveal him standing behind it. He stands with his hands in his pockets, looking down at his toes where they tap on the ground, although I can't determine if this is out of impatience or nerves.