Taylor Taylor Taylor. Everywhere I went I saw her. In the chav's smoking on the swings in the park, the kids wearing their hoodies to school. Even in the old lady who somehow always managed to sit on the same bus as me wearing her gold hoops and smelling of cheap perfume. She was everywhere but nowhere. And I really wish it didn't but it hurt. Immensely.

I told myself over and over again it wasn't my fault she left. It wasn't me who was to blame. That it was all down to her, just like it always was. But I guess there was a buried part of me that thought otherwise, that thought maybe just maybe I could have been, should have been, better. There was that word again; maybe. It seemed to haunt my thoughts now. Every time I thought of her it bustled in, along with all the stupid heartbroken emotions. Maybe I should have been nicer. Maybe I should have tried harder. Maybe I should have asked what was wrong instead of glossing over the warning signs. But I guess that wasn't who I was. Who we were. You could take the chav and emo out of the fight but you'd never take the fight out of the emo and chav. Kelly and Polly used to joke that we were made to kill each other. Maybe they were right and this was it. The showdown was finally over and the gravestone was getting marked up, one shot out heart and the victor walking away with everything. Because she had killed me. There used to be life in this depressing corpse. Now there was nothing. Maybe that's how Taylor stayed so energetic and vibrant; taking the life out of someone else.

She could have it though. I'd rather she had my heart than someone else. I'd loved her too long for it to belong to someone different. Even if she had broken it and left only a sprinkling of dust behind for me, I still loved her. And I hated myself for it. Because it kept proving her right. That she was better than me, she was stronger. How else was she able to walk away so easily?

I say walk, Taylor practically sprinted away. If dumping someone was an Olympic sport she'd get a gold medal. She hadn't stuck around to watch me attempt to pick up the pieces. Just upped and left, leaving behind all her things and a simple letter saying she was sorry. Like it would make up for everything. Typical chav. I guess it was my fault for believing she'd changed. That we'd changed. I honestly believed we'd gotten past the lies and games, that we'd moved on from the fights and arguments. Just goes to show, never judge a chav by her hoody. On the outside she was brilliant, perfect. Inside she was even more beautiful. But that line of poison still lingered inside her somewhere. Just waiting for the perfect moment to snap me in half.

Taylor. Just hearing someone say her name made me go weak and dizzy. An embarrassing reaction that should have died the moment she shut the door on our life together. The others had chosen not to take sides on this. They didn't even make bets on whether or not we'd make up. They knew it wasn't worth it. Annabelle was the only one who'd tried talking me into tracking Taylor down, to demand answers

"You'll regret it if you don't give it a go"Thankfully Kelly had been there to pull her away from the furious comeback that had been boiling under the surface of my skin.

"Leave her be belle. They have to sort this themselves"

I knew they were worried about me. I knew they'd seen her. But our friends stayed true to their word and dropped it, remaining the neutral party in it all. And of course they were right. If this was going to be fixed it had to be us to do it.

But I wasn't sure I wanted to fix it. It wasn't easy creating trust after you had your life's supply stolen away from you. Its like plastering over a hole; you could layer it up however much you wanted but in the end it wouldn't take much force to break through it again. I doubted I'd ever trust anyone as much as I did her ever again. What we had was special, unique even. And I'm not saying that because I'm an emotional teenage wreck. I'm not like those crazy girls who stalk their exes after all. Im more the type to trap and murder them. No I mean unique as in the situation. Nobody at st trinians had ever heard of the two biggest rivalling gangs finding a common ground but we did. I guess it was because Taylor and I had been the leaders. It had been easy to make it work. And once we left school it was even easier. But our tribes had firmly believed we were supposed to hate each other. And we did to begin with. But something changed. And then it changed back. Over and over again. We were always breaking the peace, always breaking each other, wearing each other down until one of us snapped. We'd reverted back I guess. Just like the immature kids we really were inside. I should have listened to the tribes. Even the Totties warned us against getting involved, and they were the biggest romantics in the business. I'd definitely learnt my lesson now though and it was this; never disobey tribe law. If it said you had to hate someone then you did. It was there for a reason and now I'd found out why the hard way.

I hadn't seen Taylor since the morning before she'd left. She was, surprisingly and smartly, keeping her distance. But I was still being reminded of her. In the way the pillows on our bed still faintly smelt of her, in the mess cluttering the lounge, and especially in her half of the rent Kelly had been kind enough to pick up for me. I'd kept everything the way she'd left it, not wanting to change that part of my life because it still meant so much to me. Her clothes still littered the place, her toothbrush still sat next to mine in the bathroom, and all her books and dj equipment were still clogging up the studio we'd improvised out of the spare room. Maybe I should have thrown it all away. That's what was expected of a person when they got dumped right? Go into a massive rage and throw it all out on the street. And maybe that's what I would have done if I was still the same person I'd been at school. I'd have grabbed it all and set fire to it, probably even sold the expensive stuff to help make a few months' rent. But I didn't. I guess there's a stubborn part of me that wanted to keep hoping she'd come back, that she'd knock on the door one day and say she didn't mean any of it. But I knew she wouldn't. So did everyone else. That was the beautiful thing about Taylor. She was too set in her ways to change. She could transform your world perfectly, manipulate it into something really warm and inviting with her at its core. But for herself? She'd always be that chav who leaped before thinking but didn't give a damn about the consequences of the jump. But that's what I loved about her.

So I guess I'm to move on now? Find a new girl and settle down, adopt a few brats or something and live happily ever after? Just the thought made me feel sick. Not only because the idea of a domestically peaceful life argued terribly with me, but because I didn't want something that didn't have her in it. Christ she was an obnoxious slanderous cow but I needed her. Just as much as I needed air to breathe. Ever heard of that saying that says soul mates are two pieces of a puzzle that only fit in with each other? That if you stick them in a different game altogether they just don't work? That's what we were like. Two pieces melded firmly together then torn viciously apart. And now I felt like the corner piece that had been chewed up and left crumpled and soggy on the floor by the family dog, no use to anybody now, just abandoned.

I'm not sure what will happen if I ever see Taylor again. Maybe she'll grow a few brain cells and stay away, hopefully she'll come back with an apology. I just hope she knew what she was doing. Because even though I was in a mess over this entire thing I did know one thing for certain. The minute she knocked on that door again would be the moment she got the biggest punch I'll ever give her. And that right there is a promise.


Review because I've just noticed my car is missing a hubcap so I have to go find him a new shoe *sigh