the aftermath of us ✓

letter fourteen

friday 11 (apr)

dear trevor,

reed somehow coerced me into going to get coffee with him after school. i didn't put up much of a fight. but it's not that i don't like him. it's not like i didn't want to, either. i just wasn't prepared.

school ended and he drove us there. the streets were emptier than usual but everyone was probably still at work and whatever. we walked in and it was a little hard to look around and take it all in because i'd been there before. with you.

reed sat me at a table and asked me what i wanted. i tried to tell him i'd pay for my own and that he really didn't have to but he insisted. so i let him walk off and order.

i saw the table i sat at the day we met. i only realized then what being truly heartbroken feels like. it isn't a burning in the middle of your chest or a huge wave of nausea. it isn't a stinging in the back of your eyes or a flashback that makes your head hurt. it's just an emptiness. you can feel your breaths getting shallower and your ribcage feels a little hollow as the air escapes you. you feel alive and you know you're alive because you can't see the dog you had in fifth grade running up to you in front of pearly gates.

when the air escapes you, you just get a rush of adrenaline that reminds you to take another breath. and i must admit, sometimes i wish i hadn't listened.

but i'm now acting like one of those pretentious poets you hated so much. i'm acting like someone hasn't said this before me.

i'm not too special, am i, reed? i asked him when he returned with our drinks. he looked a little incredulous as he handed mine over. i thanked him and he sat across from me.

i don't think you're all original but no one is. sometimes we just turn out a bit like someone else. or we just absent-mindedly try to emulate them.

i told him that i didn't see him as a philosopher. he just laughed.

i'm not trying to be deep. i'm just trying to tell you that it's okay not to be special. because you? you don't have to be special. you could be dead last on the special list and i'd still like you.

a couple walked in and sat in our spot while reed talked. i watched them over his shoulder. they were teasing each other the way we used to. they tapped each other on the nose and after they bought their drinks, they smeared dabs of whipped cream on the other person's pink cheeks.

my breathing got shallow and i asked reed if we could leave. he said yes. he gave our mugs back and i caught a glimpse of my flushed face in the window. reed walked back to me and pulled me by the fingertips out the door. he didn't hold my hand on the way back to his car, just clutched my fingertips firmly. it was like he was afraid to try his luck. i would be too.

i sat in the car and about two minutes into the drive back to my house, i started crying. reed just pat my shoulder awkwardly until we arrived in my driveway.

i didn't have an explanation for my tears since we had long left the coffee shop but reed just hugged me anyway. my breathing became so ragged and my throat started hurting. i hadn't cried like this in at least few weeks. reed hugged me tighter before pulling back and planting a quick kiss on my cheek.

it was strange to feel all my senses come to a halt. it was like the first time we kissed.

i pulled away and after a moment of staring at reed, i bid him goodbye. then i just left and went inside to sleep.

part of me wishes i hadn't left. a bigger part of me just wanted to sleep, though. all in all, not an unpleasant day and its been a long time since i had one of those.

love from,

leslie