1 | break and meet

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Breakups are messy. It is inevitable that they are when the world runs on love. When what a breakup essentially is, is a refusal to continue to love. Being told that you are not worthy of love. Being told that loving you, is a mistake.

Breakups are messy, but tack on some heartbreak, and it is a whole train wreck of a mess, because I definitely did not get the good side of things.

I am a complete wreck for the rest of Christmas break. I am wrapped up in my covers in bed most of the time, sleeping my time away and trying my best not to cry every time I think about him. Which is hard when he is why I am sad. I don't know how to address, or even begin to try turning off the sad, because every time I do, I have to think about him and it's just all one big inescapable cycle.

We cannot choose who we love. Like so, we cannot choose what to feel.

It is all the little things in life, that I had never really paid attention to. These are suddenly the things that are threatening to tear me apart.

I had been looking out of the window about a week ago, waiting for a pizza delivery to arrive. Then the apple tree of the house opposite us caught my eye. It is not anything much to look at. A little on the twiggier side of trees. Leaves not exactly healthy green. But seeing it triggers the memory of the day when I had first met him.

I had been sitting outside the cafeteria alone at lunch one day. He had walked over my way and sat down next to me. Then he had smiled that smile of his and introduced himself, and I had smiled back a little shyly and laughed as he had flirted quite rigorously with me.

I had just been eating an apple.

The pizza delivery guy had looked an uneasy mix of uncomfortable and concerned, when I had opened the door to him with tears streaming down my face.

I waitress at a little café in town, called 'Coffee House'. It is some place close to our school, and cosy and warm and soft vibes all year around. I don't have to worry about bumping into him or his friends there though, because they are all filthy rich, and have too many other closer, big institution cafes in their neighbourhoods to choose from. This is a small relief.

I focus on my job the next few weeks. I almost break down a couple of times while I am working, from seeing or hearing a few small things which remind me of past memories that include him. It is a little easier at work though, because there are distractions here that can snag my attention away if I am in a bit of a fragile state. Distractions like Sheila or my co-workers yelling at each other, or just customers and finished cups of hot coffee needing my attention.

I try to prepare myself for school. For seeing him again. I do try, but on the morning of the first day back, I consider faking sickness. Really, it is ridiculous, because I know I shouldn't be letting him have this big of an impact on my life. I clearly mean less than nothing to him. It is ridiculous that I am terrified.

Usually, it barely takes me a quarter of an hour to walk to school. However, today I drag it out with slow, reluctant steps so I push the time back to almost thirty minutes. It isn't raining this morning, or terribly, nose numbingly cold like it was last night. I count this as a bonus. It is more of a crisp, dry kind of cold. One with clear blue skies where the sun is still hanging in there, but being about as useful as the 'ay' in okay.

Nobody greets me when I reach the gates. Nobody is waiting for me. But a lot of people stare and point as though we are at a zoo instead of high school. I curl my shoulders in while I walk to my locker. I try my best to melt into the wall.

I am almost at my locker when I see him.

He is standing a couple of meters in front, with a few of his friends and his arm slung casually around a girl in this lovely, frilly red dress. He is talking about something, a hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. He has not noticed me. But Shane does.

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