The Choice (a Painful Past)

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I glanced down at the spot next to him, on the concrete, and sighed.

"God help my knees." I prayed quietly, before I gingerly sat down next to him and let my legs dangle next to his.

I felt his eyes on me, with every movement that I made and the urge to find a blanket to cover myself with became strong. I hated for anyone to look at me, especially guys, because I just knew they were thinking about how fat I was. It didn't used to be that way with Colby.

Yeah, I had always had this paranoia that everyone was looking at me and judging, but not with him. It was different now. Maybe because it had been so long since we had hung out together. Or maybe it was because I finally saw him as a man, and not just my kid best friend.

I kept my eyes averted but saw him move and adjust his clothes out of the corner of my eye.

Then, we just sat there quietly, looking up at the sky, like we had so many times before. The night sky was black, with gray cloud outlines spotted throughout it. The twinkling stars that managed to shine through, looked like they were playing Connect the Dots to some hidden message.

My drunken mind immediately relaxed, so I let that feeling transfer into my tired body. I didn't want to think about why Colby had asked me out here, just yet. I would tell him what I could, but I just wanted a minute to admire the sky with my best friend, like we used to.

I was surprised when he let me do just that. He didn't pressure me to answer his original question. Hell, he didn't even say a word to break the quiet spell that rested over the town.

I glanced at him, to see if he were watching the sky too, but he wasn't. His eyes were on me, meeting my gaze instantly. My breath caught in my throat, as my mind forgot to send the command to breathe to my lungs. He was going to be the death of me.

I tore my gaze from his and sucked in a deep breath of cool night air. This wasn't right. I wasn't supposed to be feeling these things towards him.

I mean, God, I had turned him down so many times. I had purposely let him fall out of my life, just to please Will. I should feel lucky that he was even talking to me at all, much less being a friend.

"So, I guess you're waiting for an answer." I said, softly, as I looked back up at the sky.

There was no way that I would be able to look at him and tell him what I had been through. Maybe it wasn't even that bad. Maybe he would listen to my story and tell me what a baby I was being.

Other women had been through a lot worse things than I had.

Why couldn't I just woman up and deal with a little bit of emotional damage? Because I was a weak piece of shit. Now, when I opened up to him about it, he would know.

He would know exactly how fucked up I was, and probably run back to LA, screaming. Probably glad that he had missed out on this mess that was me.

"I'm waiting, but not impatiently. You can tell me when you're ready." He replied, gently.

I noticed when his thigh pressed up against mine, like he had scooted closer, just a few inches. I resisted the stupid urge to jerk away and forced my leg to stay still.

Where should I start?

What should I tell him?

What was I going to be able to actually voice to him? I was never any good at talking about my feelings. Not even with my therapist.

"I don't know where to start." I whispered, almost tearfully.

Damn, why was this so fucking hard?

"Wherever you want." He replied.

I scoffed and shook my head.

"You're no help."

He laughed a little. "Then, you can start by answering my question. Did Will ever physically hurt you?"

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That's a loaded question. I need you to just listen. If you want to know, then you have to just let me talk. Okay?" I asked him.

I knew that I would never be able to get through this, if he interjected with his own thoughts on the topic. He was quiet for a moment, leaving me in an anxious state. Maybe he changed his mind and didn't want to hear about any of it.

"I'll do my best. If I accidently speak, just tell me to shut up. I won't be mad. At you." He finally replied.

I noticed how he added the 'At you' part, but I didn't say anything.

He was my friend. I knew he was going to be angry at Will, no matter what I said. Especially since he never liked him to begin with.

"I guess that'll have to work." I answered. "Okay, here we go. To answer your question, yes, he did physically hurt me, but not often, and I don't think it was on purpose." I heard him scoff, but he stayed true to his word and didn't say anything. "The first time was not too long after we first got together. He hit me on my thigh with a belt."

"I was still here then. We were friends. Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

I just gave him a look and he rolled his eyes. I decided to answer that question anyway.

"Because you already didn't like him. I didn't know if it was because you had a little crush on me, or what, so I didn't want to make things worse. Plus, he apologized, and I told him if it ever happened again, then I was gone. We were playing around, and I smacked him harder than I meant to, so he grabbed the belt that was hanging on the wall and hit me. Hard. Nothing like that happened again. At least, for a while. He was never overly physical with me. He grabbed me, and you know I bruise easily, so I would have bruises on my arms from it. That happened a few times, when we would be arguing. He pushed me a few times, but never that hard. I tripped over a chair in the living room once though. Busted my lip on the edge of the coffee table. That was a tough one to explain to people." I just kept talking, even though I heard his breathing speed up.

The air around us seemed like it was getting thicker, crackling with his anger, but I couldn't seem to stop, now that I had started.

It was probably the alcohol.

"He slammed me into a wall one time and held me there, while he screamed at me. I screamed at him too, though. You know, I didn't used to argue with him. His anger scared me, so I would shut down, and wait until the storm passed. He would apologize and it would be like it never happened. On the outside anyway. Then, one day, I just broke. He threatened my dog, Cuddles. You remember Cuddles. She liked you. She didn't like him. Anyway, he threatened her because she growled at him, so I took her to our room. He was drunk. On Captain Morgan. The same stuff he was buying tonight. It always made him so mean. He followed me to the room and started in on me, calling me a pussy because I never fought back or took up for myself. I would just run away. Something flipped inside of me, and I went off. Since that day, I argued with him every single time he started."