Ten.
Benn took the bus with me, and then walked me home at around four that afternoon. My parents must have been grocery shopping or something, because the car wasn't in the drive. We shared a long kiss at my front gate before we finally parted ways. I watched Benn for a bit as he walked down the street and turned the corner to the bus stop. Just as I turned around to go inside, I saw you out the front of your house. I only briefly met your gaze, before the stabbing pain within me led me inside. I slammed the door and told myself to forget about you.
I knew that I could live without you, probably be happy even- or at least as close as I was to being happy before I met you. You'd seen me come far too close to love, and I was never going back; ever.
The next few days went quietly. I spent a lot of time with Benn, and found it surprisingly easy to focus on schoolwork - it was a welcome distraction. My parents decided to head back to the city on Wednesday night, three days earlier than they had planned. I think they got bored in the suburbs. They were city people, unlike me- and workaholics. And we really didn't have that much in common, nor did we hugely enjoy spending time together most of the time. I loved them in a "they're-my-parents-so-I-have-to" way, and that was pretty much the extent of it.
I guess they loved me too- they just had a different way of showing it than most parents. They'd always made sure I was taken care of, and provided for, financially. They'd always put me in a nice house, dressed me well, and put me in the most decent school they could find. They'd always tried to make sure I'd do the right thing; that I don't get caught up in the wrong crowd, and so on. I suppose they'd sort of failed at the latter two, but hey- they tried. You had to give them that. And I suppose I've always been thankful in a way. In the end, my life came down to what I made it to be, and I knew that.
Sometimes I thought that maybe, if my parents had been around more, if they were less strict, if they hadn't moved me from place to place and if they'd just generally spent more time with me as a kid, I'd be different now. Maybe I'd go to school every day, and work hard. Maybe I wouldn't drink, maybe I would've never smoked pot, maybe I wouldn't have lost my virginity at fourteen and a bit, maybe Benn and I never would've fallen apart, maybe I could love like a normal person. But I always concluded that the thoughts weren't worth it, because my life was what is was, and I had no drive to get out. I didn't see a point.
And I was happy enough this way. Maybe I'd be happier if I'd turned out the way my parents hoped, but maybe not. It didn't matter. I wasn't going to change, I had no reason to. I didn't hurt, I didn't usually cry, and I had fun. I could do whatever I wanted to, and I intended to continue making use of that.
Friday afternoon saw me bored again. Jacqui had said something about a party, and Benn had said he wanted to go too. But I hadn't properly seen you or spoken to you in just over two weeks by then, and despite myself, I found it getting to me. I decided to go for a run.
Doritos loved it when I went for a run- naturally, he didn't understand that I had to be feeling pretty damn crappy to actually go for a run. It was sort of cloudy outside, and somewhat cool, so I threw on a light zip-up jumper over my cropped tank top.
Runs, in my world, consisted of a leisurely walk through the park, with the occasional jog. But for some reason, I just had to run that day. I kept up a pretty decent pace, and despite the fact I'd been out of breath ever since the first five hundred metres or so, I just kept going. I don't know how, or why, but I felt nothing and my legs just kept carrying me.
When I reached the park, it started pouring- and that's when the energy left me. I just broke down. I lay on my back on the pavement, and my tears became indistinguishable from the rain. I figured eventually I could just get up, and walk home. But the tears didn't stop coming.
