Part 11

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PanicPanicPanic

I couldn't think straight. Everything was running through my head at record speed and it took everything in me to stay standing.

CalumCalumCalum

My breathing started to pick up and I felt sick. This can't be true. No. Calum could never do this. Not Calum, not my Calum that loved animals and people and was scared of getting shots at the doctor's office and cried when he got a paper cut. Calum who kissed me with a lazy smile and laughed about nothing at 3 am.

But this wasn't my Calum. This was a stranger. A stranger with a lot of power. A stranger that was incredibly dangerous. A stranger that knew where I lived.

I ran to my room and packed a bag before rushing to my car and driving. I didn't know where I was going but I didn't stop until I pulled up at a familiar house with the lights still on. Home

My childhood home had always been a safe haven to me and tonight would be no different. I rang the doorbell and my mother walked to the door before smiling largely and hugging me as tight as she could. I hadn't been home in ages and I regretted it now more than ever. When I didn't pull back and started to cry my mom whispered in my ear soothing words and pulled me inside.

When I pulled away I felt a weight being lifted off my chest. My mom grabbed my hand and led me to the couch where she held me to her chest and let me cry until I physically couldn't anymore. I knew she would never push or ask what was wrong so I started the conversation that would likely break me all over again.

"Calum" was all I could get out.

"Oh, sweetheart." My mother said sympathetically and squeezed my shoulder. I took a shaky breath and told her everything. Every emotion I felt, every word he said to me, every spark of hope I felt, every ounce of fear in my body at the grocery store that returned when I read the search results on my laptop. Everything.

"'I can't handle this.' was the last thing he said to me and I tried to understand what he meant, what had happened but when I looked at that laptop I understood." My mother looked calm and in thought as she took in what I said.

"And I hate that I speak so highly of him." I continued, "Why did I do that? Why do I talk about him as if he put the sun in the sky and created beautiful things when he only ever hurt me? He hurt me so much that the pain in my soul and heart could be seen by everyone on the outside."

She laughed sadly, knowingly, "That's just the thing with love, huh. You'd let them get away with murder, even if it's your own." I shook my head in denial at the thought of me being in love with Calum.

"Love is for everyone," I tell her. "It is. No matter who you are or how alone you feel, someone loves you, Mom, Dad, Grandma, someone. Falling in love is what's not for everyone. And I think that's what my problem is. I fall in love too fast and too hard. I fell in love with the way his eyes mimicked the swirling mixture of cream and coffee. I fell in love with his messy locks of pure chocolate and how they fell so effortlessly. I fell so hard I was never able to catch my breath again." I took a breath before continuing.

"But he broke me. And now I know that falling in love isn't meant for me" So if this is what you think is love then who do I get rid of it? How do I cure love? The plans for the future I believed I could have – no, the delusions – my heart pounding too fast when he's around, the smile that never left my lips, and restlessness at night; the constant falling and falling and forgetting what it was like before I was so lovesick before I was infected by a single touch that spread like a disease. How do I stop loving him?

How do I stop myself from seeing his smile on every stranger's face and saying his name in every new conversation, how do I stop myself from dreaming of him and waking up lonely; how do I stop myself from loving him,  how do I cure myself of him?"

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