The Choice (a Painful Past)

111

"Nooo." I had groaned. "I look like a beached whale, flopping around, trying to get back into the water. Please delete it."

She shook her head. "You do not look like a beached whale! I'm so sick of you putting yourself down like this. Look, I'm not going to delete it, but I won't post it, okay? It'll just stay in my phone. I promise."

"Fine." I grumbled.

I didn't really argue with anyone anymore. If they contradicted something that I said, I would usually end up letting them win. As always, I hated confrontation and anything that may cause someone to be mad at me.

Even more so now, than when I was a child. I physically shied away from it, because I knew how bad it could get.

Remembering that, made me think that I definitely did not want to get drunk tonight. There was no chance in hell.

We pulled up into the club parking lot, with Denise making sure not to hit any of the stragglers that were milling outside.

"Can you MOVE?!" She yelled, as she blew the horn at one very drunk guy, in particular.

He flipped her off, then stumbled along his way.

"Fucking A." She muttered.

"He's just drunk, Babe. Let it go. I don't want to fight anyone yet. We just got here." Bryon replied, as he reached forwards and rubbed her arm.

She laughed at what he said, but I didn't. I didn't want him to fight anyone tonight. I just wanted to have fun, or at least try to.

Denise saw my expression and reached over to lay her hand on my leg.

"He's just kidding, Cal. There will be no fights tonight." She replied, softly.

"Oh my God, no, Callie, I was just kidding! I'm sorry." Bryon exclaimed from the backseat. "The only thing that I plan on doing tonight is watching you guys have a good time, making sure we are safe, while we're here, and driving you home."

Denise gave him a quick, appreciate smile, then glanced back at me. "Look, don't think about it so much, okay? I know how hard that is for you, but I'm right here with you. If you want to sit at the table all night long, we'll do that. If you want to dance, then I'll dance with you. If someone comes to the table to talk, I'll send them away. Whatever you need for tonight, is what we'll do."

I felt tears sting my eyes and knew that I was about to mess up the makeup that she had slaved over to make me pretty. "I love you." I whispered, keeping my head down.

I was embarrassed that I was about to fucking cry outside of the club, and because my best friend felt it was necessary to do whatever didn't make me uncomfortable, just because I was a huge cry baby. I swear, I didn't used to be this way. I still had no clue who I was, but I didn't like her at all.

"NO!" She exclaimed, making me jerk my head up to see what was wrong. "You will NOT cry and mess up that makeup! Get out of the car right now! No more happy, sappy shit. Get out!" Seeing how much distress she was in because of my makeup made me laugh.

In fact, I started laughing so hard, I stumbled out of the car, and still almost had tears running down my face.

Denise stalked over to my side and glared at me.

"You will STOP it! Right now! Callie, ugh, what am I going to do with you?" She tried to be stern, but the giggles overtook her tough exterior, until we were both complete messes. "Oh, God, okay." She said, after she finally caught her breath.

I was still in the process of trying to breathe correctly.

"Bathroom is the first stop, because your eyes are starting to run, and I know mine are too."

I looked up and caught her eye, just to be threatened with another giggle fit.

"NO!" Bryon yelled.

I flinched and sobered up immediately, cutting my laughter short.

"If you guys keep laughing, we'll never make it inside." He whined, poking out his lip at Denise.

I smiled and hoped that no one saw my reaction. When Denise caught my eye again, I knew that she had. Thankfully, she didn't say anything.

"We can laugh when we're drunk and don't care about our makeup." She said, as she smiled and grabbed my hand. "The man has a point. On to the bathroom, we go."

Bryon walked behind us, and the one time that I dared to glance back at him, I saw him watching Denise with the most loving smile, that it physically hurt my chest. He adored her. I was happy that my best friend had found a love like that.

The kind that didn't hurt. The kind that made her smile so much more than she ever cried now. The kind that made your insides all warm, like you had just drunk some hot chocolate.

I knew that it was also so intense sometimes, that it was painful, but not in a bad way. More like, in a getting a new tattoo way. The passion was so blinding, and the love so strong, that your heart swelled to its almost bursting point.

I had thought that I had that, but I was wrong. I was just too stupid to see it, until I felt stuck. When you felt stuck in a situation, it felt like there was literally nothing you could do.

You couldn't leave, because what if you never found anyone else?

What if you were destined to be alone for the rest of your life? You couldn't leave, because you didn't want to bust up your little family that you had built.

You couldn't leave, because what if something worse was waiting for you? But you desperately wanted freedom. So badly, that you even considered things like taking your own life, or taking your partners life, just to escape.

It was like this never-ending cycle.

Even when you were finally "free," it didn't feel that way.

It had been a year since Will and I had broken up, yet I still found myself wondering if he would be mad, if I didn't answer his text, or still walking on eggshells at my own home, because that's what I was used to doing. I vaguely wondered if I would ever feel free again.

Denise and I dipped into the bathroom, and she quickly dabbed up the small amount of damage that we had done to our faces.

"Good as new. Let's go get our drink on." She said, as she grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door.