79Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Not beta-ed. All mistakes are mine.
Out of sight meant out of mind.
Or so, I had hoped.
I'm not saying it's not true.
It is, partially.
My days got better after you left. It became easier to breathe.
I didn't feel as constricted anymore.
I felt a lot lighter.
And not just figuratively.
Days after you left, I had come to a sudden realization.
I ate food not because it nourished me, but because it filled me.
It filled a void within me.
It made me feel better somehow.
At that age, it was too soon for me to understand what was happening. I didn't know that the emotions I was feeling were not normal.
But when you left, something changed.
I realized that I didn't need the excess amount of food I was consuming.
So I took a step back.
I threw myself into my studies, made new friends, went shopping and only ate when I needed to.
Things were slowly getting better.
The change was visible. People noticed and paid compliments.
My self-esteem that you had absolutely demolished slowly began to build up again.
Falling in love at an early age was my biggest mistake.
I had never gotten to know myself. Everything I did, everything I saw, everything I said was dictated by your preferences.
None of it was me.
When you left, I found myself.
After a point, I was very grateful for your departure from my life. It had worked out for the better, it seemed.
But you kept coming back to me.
Through hushed whispers.
Through coincidences.
Through the strands of faith that tied our fate.
…
I tried to avoid your remaining traces in my life like a plague.
Whenever I heard your name, I ran in the opposite direction.
But try as I might, I still could not escape you.
There was talk of a new school, of a new girl and of a new life.
I could not help but overhear.
You were doing well, it seemed.
Your Tanya was supposedly very pretty. The rumors said so.
I wanted to see her, but I knew it wouldn't do me any good.
So I kept quiet, put my head down and used the last of my strength to remove you from my thoughts.
And eventually, the talk died down.
…
I rarely ever dreamt of you.
But when I did, it meant trouble.
Trouble.
As in, you.
It had been a couple of years since you left my school.
By then, I felt like a new person.
And I looked like one too.
But you already know that.
Let me tell you about the things you don't know instead.
I remember that day clearly. How could I ever forget?
I had spent the previous night tossing, turning and thinking about you.
It was ridiculous how strongly your thoughts still affected me.
I was volunteering to raise funds for homeless people that day and the sleep deprivation from the previous night made me incredibly cranky.
The work was hard. By the end of the day I was exhausted and looked like one of the dead. Not have eaten anything the entire day, some of my friends and I decided to go for some ice-cream.
So there I was, greasy, dirty, sweaty from a day's hard work, enjoying my double scoop of chocolate ice cream when you casually strolled back into my life.
I saw you before you saw me and I instinctively hid behind my hair.
Then Em, who had been volunteering with me, saw you and called out your name.
That idiot.
I don't blame him. He hadn't seen you for a long time. I knew he missed you.
They all missed you.
Upon hearing your name being called, you looked at our table. You looked at Em and your face broke out in a huge smile.
Then your eyes landed on me.
And you stopped on your tracks.
…
I didn't know until much later why you had stopped.
Why you paused.
But in that moment, when you stopped walking towards me and our friends, you confirmed my biggest fear.
I had always thought you left school because of me.
Because I had become so troublesome to deal with.
And the moment you paused, you confirmed my fear.
But you were never an asshole.
Always a gentleman.
I watched as you slapped back the smile on your face and continued your way towards us. You greeted everyone hello and hugged some of our friends and when someone asked you to join us, you took the only vacant chair next to me without hesitation.
I was never a very social person and I hardly ever talked infront of strangers.
And you had become a stranger to me.
So I kept quiet and listened to your stories.
I marveled at how easily you got along with people.
Even after two years of hardly any contact you slid back into place with us as if you had never left.
At one point in the conversation, you asked, "So, what's new with you people?"
They caught you up and you listened attentively.
I was too much of a coward to fully look at you.
So I stared at your hands instead.
They had matured too. Your hands were larger and the veins ran more prominent.
Scars from guitar strings marked your fingers.
You still played the guitar, then.
At least some things never changed.
When it was time to leave, I finally looked up.
I looked up to find your eyes on me.
It was then that I realized I had not said a single word to you.
Good.
You didn't deserve my words.
People bid you farewell and started leaving one by one. Em hugged you goodbye and you guys made plans to meet up soon. I snorted internally.
As if that was ever going to happen.
I knew you had absolutely no intention of meeting us ever again.
Em was supposed to give a ride home so I started to follow him out when…
You called out my name.
Clear as day.
"Bella."
I stopped but I didn't turn.
I stood my ground as I heard your footsteps slowly come toward me.
You stopped an inch away and leaned down to whisper your words in my ear.
"You look beautiful."
…
I neither had the mental nor the physical stamina to give you a reply back then.
But I do now.
Fuck you, jackass.
Now we're getting there. ;)