seventeen // fears pt. 2

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"I'm sorry, petal. I can't do this."

My heart breaks. Like, three times in the same second. I immediately use my duvet to cover my close-to-naked body. My eyes begin to water. I feel so unattractive. Romeo tugs on his hair as he paces up and down the room. "Is it my body?" I ask, my voice small and close to a whisper.

The boy stops pacing. "God, no! Of course not. You're gorgeous, I promise. It's just..." he trails off. He begins pacing again. I put on the shirt he gave to me. I take his hand and sit him down on my bed. I sit beside him.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," I assure him, running a comforting hand up and down his arm. He sighs.

"I guess it's more scary than I thought. You know, this whole commitment thing." He takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling. "It's frightening to know that we're either gonna break up or spend the rest of our lives together. I don't think I'm ready for all this, you know?"

My heart drops and breaks again. "You said you loved me. You said I was your oxygen," I croak, wiping a falling tear. Romeo glances down at me and holds me in his arms.

"I meant every word."

I escape from his arms. "Well you just cut off your own supply." He looks hurt, but he can't possibly be as hurt as I am right now. My heart broke four times in the space of three minutes. That's got to be a record. "You can see yourself out."

I turn away from him as I hear his footsteps get closer to the door. His footsteps stop. "This isn't a breakup, it's a break. Maybe things will get better after some time apart." Then he says the words that bruise my soul. "I love you, Mia. Don't you ever forget it."

I run up to him and fling my arms around his neck. He holds my tiny waist in his hands, so tightly that I'm sure he didn't want to let go. "Please don't go, please Romeo, please don't leave me!" I cry into his grey hoodie. He gently tears our bodies apart. He's crying too. His confusing eyes are filled with pain and his cheeks are red as if they'd been pinched.

"Sorry," he chokes out as he hurries away. I sit on the floor and hang my head. That's it. Everything ended so quickly. And I'm expected to walk into school tomorrow as if everything's okay. Maybe I won't turn up.

***

I skip school. It's only by Wednesday that I feel like I'll be ready to face the boy. I don't know what to do at lunch time. I haven't told anybody that we're broken up, and I doubt Romeo's told anyone either. I don't want to go under our tree because he might be there. I don't want to sit with Louisa because she'd ask too many questions.

I find that Romeo isn't under our tree, so I claim the spot. Resting my back on the bark of the tree, I sadly eat my lunch, trying my hardest to not reminisce too much. Somebody sits on the opposite side of the tree trunk. I try to ignore whoever it is.

"When I heard that you hadn't been in school for two days, I wanted to visit you," the person says. At first, I feel like they were talking so someone else, but I realise that they were in fact talking to me. I know it's Romeo on the other side of this tree, but I'm too scared to look.

"Why didn't you?" I question. He exhales.

"I didn't want to see you cry." I don't say anything in response. His answer is the most pathetic thing I've heard in my life. After a while, he continues to talk. "I completely understand if you don't want to talk to me. I hate myself for doing what I did to you. But I feel like it was the right thing to do, you know? Let's be honest, our relationship was spontaneous in all aspects. Sometimes, spontaneity isn't the right choice. Sometimes you just gotta stop yourself and evaluate the situation..." he chuckles lightly, "I mean, during sex isn't the right time to do it, but it has to be done at some point. What I'm saying is that there could be a lot of good to come out from this. So don't think of this as a breakup, think of it as a pitstop. Life's full of pitstops and that's what helps us reach the full distance."

I absorb all of the wonderful things Romeo is saying to me. His voice soothes my soul, and I really want to feel his touch. There are a few minutes of silence before I conjure up the courage to respond. Despite his truly encouraging speech, he still made me feel as unwanted as a dog poop on the side of the street.

"I felt like crap after you left." That's it. That's all my tiny mouth managed to say. The boy stays silent, so I try to elaborate on my point. "You had your fun and dumped me like a piece of crap."

"It wasn't meant to be that way, petal," he answers. My heart cries when he calls me petal. "Is there a chance we could give being friends a shot?" I think for a second. It would kill me to not be with him, but I guess that means there's still a chance he'd get back with me.

"Okay."

***

Do things actually get better? What!
you guys: oh but sarah u said things don't get better
me: well

— sarah xox

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