Page 103 of June: Jess' Story

I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. (That’s weird.) “What did you miss?” I’m not fishing. I’m curious.

He reaches across the car taking my hand in his and says, “I missed sleeping next to you. And hanging out with you. And I missed the time we could have had together, but didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“For what?”ThisI need to hear.

“For hurting you. And blowing up. And for the things I said to you and Brit.”

“Why did you do it then?” He drops my hand at the question and the saliva in my mouth sours.

“Because I was mad at you.” That’s a stupid answer. And a basic one, too.

“Why were you mad at me?” I ask, because this is it. We’re going to get to the bottom of it.

“Because you shouldn’t have fucked my best friend!” There it is. And just like he does, he reverts. He retreats. He turns icy and it’s like all the warmth gets sucked right out of the room. (Well, the cab of the car.)

Testing the waters, I reach out my hand towards his and he moves out of my reach. Just like I knew he would. Silly me had dared to hope anyway.

“Okay, please take me back to Brit’s.” I say, not looking at him, just facing straight ahead.

“Jess, come on,” he pleads.

I shake my head. “You’re never going to get over it, and I don’t want to do this. You might know me better than anyone else. You might make me feel like I’m high as a fucking kite, but you also make me feel like a piece of shit. And I’m not. I’m not a shitty person.

I made a mistake and so did you, but the difference is that I don’t let it define me. And I won’t spend the rest of my life arguing my case just to be iced out over and over. I can’t be with someone who wants to hurt me just so they have an excuse to run. So please, turn around and take me back.”

He slows down and makes a quick U-turn, but he doesn’t say anything. That took a lot for me to fucking say, and does he say anything back?Nope. Not even “I don’t think you’re a shitty person.” So I guess that means he does, huh? I have to clasp my hands together in front of me to keep them from trembling.

It’s funny how just one moment can change everything. One wrong decision. Onewrong word. It can change and shape the rest of your life. That one wrong thing could make you miserable for the rest of your fucking life. And it’s clear to me, Alex plans to hold on to that pain as tightly as he can for as long as he can, even if it means he’s miserable. In fact, I’d bet that’s where he thrives.

I hate to break it to you, friends, but love doesn’talwaysconquer all. In this case, (whether he loves me or not) he’ll never be able to forgive me. He can’t put one foot in front of the other and realize that night will never even round up to .001% of our lives. But it’s like he never learned how to forgive, and therefore he’ll be stuck in this vicious loop forever.

But I won’t, because I was raised to have at least a modicum of self respect. I know my worth. And I’m worth way more than an existence that would have me constantly circling the drain with Alex.

And just like I expected, he doesn’t say anything the rest of the drive.

When we pull back up to Brit’s, I garner all the strength I’ve been keeping in reserves. I call on my ancestors, I send up a little prayer to God (the gods, whoever it is) for strength. Without looking him in the eyes, I tell him what I’ve known, and thought, and felt for years, because no regrets. (Right?)

“I love you, Alex.” I watch for a reaction. I wait for a response.

When he doesn’t give me a single thing back, I get unbuckled. “Please don’t call me or text me or come see me. And please return Brit’s car.”

I slip out of the front seat, open the back door and unbuckle Eden who is just saying “Go, go?” on repeat.

“Not today, pumpkin,” is all I say, then I close the door and he drives away.

And that’s officiallyourend. (It’s not the ending you imagined now, is it?)

I walk into Brit’s house in a daze. I ask her to watch Eden for ten minutes, and I think she says yes because she takes her out of my arms.

I walk out the back deck and down the 25 stairs to where their dock juts out into the lake. I stand at the edge of it and embrace the cold wind coming at me off the water. In fact, I lean into it. And then I scream.

There’s so much pain and hurt and anger, and it’s all just sitting in and around my heart, crippling it. Cripplingme.I am not this person.

So I scream because it hurts.

I scream because I can’t cry over him anymore.

I scream because I can’t get lost at the bottom of the bottle.