Why Did We Say Goodbye?

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Jacky

As soon as I got home, I felt like crying. I felt like I was going through a breakup, but Brian and I weren’t together. We were just friends. Well, we weren’t anymore. I never wanted to see or hear from him again. I seriously could care less if he fell off the face of the earth at the moment. Why did guys have to be such assholes? At twenty-four, I think Brian should be able to think about other people’s feelings, yet he had literally just crushed me. 

When I got home, I thanked Jackie for driving and ran up to my room. My mom was sitting in the living room watching TV, probably waiting for me to come home. When I ran past her and up the stairs, she looked very confused. When I got to my room, I shut the door and collapsed on my bed. I laid my head on the pillow and let the tears flow out.

Why did I have to like him so much? I thought that if we were friends or at least kept in touch, it might not make me want to be his girlfriend so much. I even had this tiny hope that when I turned eighteen, we could be together. Now, those dreams had flown out the window. I never wanted to talk to him again. In my mind, he was some guy in some band now. I wanted to erase him from my memory.

It was so silly that I was crying over this. It wasn’t like he probably even liked me back. I mean, why would he want to go out with some fifteen-year-old girl? I had not experience with anything. I had never been a relationship before. While he had girls crawling all over him. He could pick any fan he wanted. They would all gladly be his girlfriend. Why of all those people would he wanted me?

A moment later, there was a knock on my door. I didn’t respond, but my mom came in anyway. “Honey, are you ok?” she asked as I quickly wiped the tears off of my cheeks. I hated crying in front of people.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, trying not to start crying again. I could tell by her face that she was worried about me and didn’t believe one word of what I said.

“Then why are you crying?” she questioned, sitting down on the edge of my bed. I just shrugged. How do you explain to your mom that you like someone nine years older than you and you hoped you could be friends with him? She gave me another look that said I needed to start talking.

“You know that guy I went out with a while ago?” I started reluctantly. She gave me a nod, signaling me to go on. “Well, he said he was glad we were friends and all, but then he stopped calling me texting me and then I went to their show tonight and he told me to leave him alone and I just don’t get it,” I rambled, hoping to get the story out as quickly as possible.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asked with a small smile. She had never asked Brian’s age so she wasn’t appalled at me liking him. She probably thought it was cute.

“Yeah, but I can’t like him,” I replied with a sigh. She gave me a confused look, obviously not knowing what I meant. Here came the moment of truth. “He’s over eighteen,” I breathed out. Her eyes practically popped out of her head.

She must have sat in silence for five minutes before saying anything. “Well, Jacky, if he doesn’t want your friendship, then he’s missing out. I’m not going to lie, I don’t think I would be comfortable with you being friends with someone so much older than you, but honey, it’s really his loss,” she told me finally. 

I then wiped a few more tears from my skin and looked at her. She was right of course. If he didn’t want to be friends, he was missing out, not me. I could live without him. I didn’t need to be his friend to survive.

Brian

Why the fuck did I tell Jacky to leave me alone? I didn’t mean it. I just couldn’t trust myself to be her friend. I liked her as so much more than a friend and I didn’t want to accidentally kiss her or something and go to jail. 

I guess the better question would be why did I have to like her so much? I could tell I was slowly falling in love with her. I couldn’t get her off my mind. Everything reminded me of her. I just wanted to call her and tell her I was sorry and that I was an idiot, but that would probably end up in me telling me that I liked her and I couldn’t have that. 

But I did like her. I think I might’ve loved her.

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