Tattooed Hearts

Loneliness & Closed Doors

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Do you ever wake up one morning feeling as if the entire world is being pressed down on your chest, an unfixable weight that, despite your efforts, cannot be lifted?

That's how I felt waking up the next morning.

It only got worse as the day went on. Sitting next to Isaac in first period was extra hard. Part of me wanted to reach over and hold his hand, or pass him
notes like we would usually do. But then my conscience would remind me, stop, Grace. He hurt you. Remember that. But I couldn't help but feel a pang in my heart at his expression. Somber. Depressed.

Then, I would notice several eyes staring when we walked down the halls separately. When we wouldn't stop at each other's lockers during passing periods. When we barely spoke a word to each other. I didn't realize how much people watched us, how much we were under the public view.

By lunchtime, the gossip spread as quick as a wildfire. Rumors were flying here and there. One was that I just used him for social popularity. That was bad. Another was that he cheated on me. That was worse. Everyone knew we weren't together anymore when I sat at my old table, alone, eating my salad quietly. Isaac sat with his friends. I would look over there a couple times. He would laugh with them on a normal day. But now he wouldn't move when one of them elbowed him. Nothing. This lunch was different. Isaac wasn't joking around. I wasn't rushing to the bathroom the minute I finished chewing the last bite of my food. But it was still a very sad lunch.