Love Always, Ella

Chapter Sixteen

Ella

June 14th, 2018.

Christian,

Why did you leave?

I used to ask myself this question over and over again until my head hurt, until I couldn't breathe from crying so hard, until my lungs felt like they would lose all of the air from them just at the mere memory of you leaving. Do you ever stop and think about that day last year? Remember, Valentine's Day? Do you remember when you told me that you were going to make my first Valentine's Day so special that I'd never forget it? Do you remember how excited I was that day you told me that you were going to take me out, even if we were only just friends? Nothing more?

Maybe, just maybe you have a faint recognition of when I cried so hard in my mother's lap when you stood me up. Were you not there? Did you not see that I had braided my hair that day for about an hour? Did you not see me debating for an entire night of the outfit I would pick out just for you? I could have sworn you were there. You couldn't have been with someone else, right? You couldn't have taken out another girl for dinner and a movie on Valentine's Day and left me alone, right? You promised you would be there. I stared out the window for an hour waiting for headlights. You never showed.

Christian, am I going crazy? The fact that it's been a whole year and the memory of you still feels like a knife just completely carved a new hole in my chest deeply concerns me. I'm getting tired of writing about you. I'm getting awfully tired of wasting my time thinking about someone who no longer cares for me. Did I matter to you at all?

At the end of the day I feel as if I'm getting stronger though. Not that you'd care because you will never read this, but I can feel my heart healing. Even if it's mending half a stitch every six months I know that I am healing. I'm not sure when I will stop writing about you, or when these stitches will finally be mended shut, but what I do know is that I am healing. That is most important.

I am healing.

__________

A day at the shack is just like any other day. It's a Saturday so it's too busy to even stop to look at the clock. All you can hear is the overly loud conversations of customers and the clattering of dishes from the kitchen. Little beads of sweat are traveling down my forehead as I quickly rush from table to table to try and keep everybody satisfied. The only positive to it being busy is that the tips I'll be getting tonight will be unreal.

I wish I didn't have to work; I wish I could just quit because Patrick and I only have a month and a half left together before I have to leave. Just thinking about it makes my stomach twist up in anxiety and nerves. I see him sitting at the bar again on this busy night to watch the big game with the drunk men and feel the twist knot up even more than it already is. God I'm going to miss him.

It's so busy that I almost don't even notice him sitting there, but he's staring at me as usual with a little smile on his face. I don't know why he doesn't want to do something much more entertaining than watch me work, but it seems to satisfy him so I ignore it and just let him be. When I tried confronting him about it before all he had to say was, I like watching you work, El. It's a free country.

"I thought I'd drop by and see you before I go and play basketball with Drew." He says as I try to cash someone out at the register. "You know, if that's okay."

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" I ask him, wiping away more sweat on my forehead. There's a clattering of dishes behind me from another waitress dropping them as I hand back the change to the customer. When I notice he's not saying anything I pause for a moment, cursing myself for allowing my body to sweat like this in front of him. It's probably about ninety degrees in here from all of the smoke and humidity flooding in from outside. I don't even want to picture what my hair looks like right now.