Page 36 of Run to Me
I take out my phone, reading over the last messages he sent while I lower my fishing line into the water.
Nate: One of these days you won’t be able to ignore me anymore.
Nate: I hope you didn’t meet some cute country boy or girl out there, because if you did you better let them know who you’ll always belong to.
Nate: Please answer me. At least with a hi.
Nate: I miss you.
My throat goes dry, strong emotions building up in my chest, creating an uncomfortable pressure.
Nate: I love you.
My heart sinks and I trace his words with my fingers, hoping he knows I feel the same. I want to say it back. I do, so fucking bad. It hurts too much. But if I say the words we’ll only keepgoing in circles, hurting each other more when school starts and I don’t show up.
He’ll always be my favorite kind of good, and I’ll always be the bad he can do without.
Sixteen
Nate
Sixteen
Nate
Even though we’re nearing the end of the semester, I still watch the front door of my small apartment. My parents wanted me on campus after my uncle told them about Jace’s decision to stay in Missouri. He didn’t tell me though, and I wouldn’t let myself believe it was true until I heard the words from him myself. He could change his mind, and if he did, he’d need a place to go. A place with me. Months later and the words still haven’t come. My hope is dwindling.
Not once while we’ve been apart has he written me back or returned my calls. I don’t stop sending messages, though. If anything, I’ve doubled them, attaching pictures of me eating lunch at the nearby park or watching one of our favorite movies. I send him a picture of all the extra space in the tub whenever I take a bath, the extra pancakes I can’t finish on my own, the new books I buy for us to buddy read when he gets here.
I want him to know I haven’t given up, that I’m still waiting. Waiting for him to wrap his large arms around me in the new king bed I recently got. Waiting for him to sit behind me in thetub to wash my hair. Waiting for him to come here and give me more good deeds to add to our list. Waiting for him to need me to turn a bad memory into a good one. Waiting for him.
Breaking my eyes from the door I decide I’m angry at for never opening and bringing me what I need, I look at the time on my phone. When I realize I only have a short amount of time to get to class, I jump up from the couch and grab my backpack from the floor. Before pocketing my phone, I tap on Jace’s name.
Me: I’ll save you my chips from Quiznos today. You know I always only want the sandwich and drink.
Me: It’s supposed to snow a little today. I heard you got a lot where you are. Hope you’re staying warm.
I slide the phone into my pocket and exit the apartment. The weight is so heavy, increasing with every unanswered message. Dragging one foot in front of the other, I pick up the pace when I spot my car, then I get in and drive to school, still waiting for my phone to vibrate. Waiting for Jace to be ready to end the silence between us. Waiting and waiting. Always waiting.
Seventeen
Jace
Lying on the ice-covered grass, I trace the clouds with my fingers and pop another chip into my mouth. The cold sharp shards prick at my skin and I press my arms harder against them. I need to feel something other than the hurt in my heart today. I need to focus on something other than the emptiness and guilt I feel. I left him alone. He hasn’t stopped messaging me and I haven’t stopped reading everything he sends.
His words are what help me get through the days easier. Sometimes they’re random thoughts or jokes he’s heard. Sometimes they’re book recommendations and new flavors of coke he thinks I should try. Others are “I love you” and “I can’t wait until you get here.”
Doesn’t he get that I’m not coming? I thought he would after all this time. My mom called the other day telling me how good they were all doing and how I should come down for Thanksgiving. The wavering in her voice told me she was still unsure of me being there, that she doesn’t trust me. I don’t trust myself either. If I go, I won’t be able to stop him if he decidesto crawl into my bed or join me in the shower. I won’t be able to stop my lips from finding his and my fingers from tracing the beauty marks around his nipples. I also won’t be able to stop hurting him in my sleep.
The nightmares have gotten worse. I wake up to torn sheets and feathers everywhere. I’ve broken my headboard and scratched up my face so badly blood was everywhere. I don’t know if it’s the loneliness or sadness lodged deep inside me, or if it’s because I’m not sleeping as much as I should. Maybe they’d come regardless. Maybe they were always meant to take over my dreams. Does that mean they’ll take over my life too?
Either way, I won’t let them reach him, and in order to ensure that, I have to continue staying away. What if not wanting to be like my dad isn’t enough? What if the anger and disgust I feel for people like him will fade over time? My dad was once a good person, wasn’t he? My mom wouldn’t have married him otherwise, or had a child with him. I don’t remember the good side of him but that doesn’t mean he never had one.
How old was he when he lost his fight to the darkness? When did his morals and compassion fade? When did the monster take over? Did he not see it coming, like maybe I don’t?
My mom got tangled in his loose threads, and when they finally broke it was too late for her to come out untangled. He made it all worse by subjecting me to the mess he made of all the unraveled pieces.
I won’t risk doing the same to anyone I love. I won’t risk Nate. And that’s why I must sacrifice what makes me happy . . . So that he always has a chance to be.
