I leave people before they get a chance to leave me.
She’s probably right. But I don’t want to be like this. I don’t know how to stop. It’s like I’ve lost control of my mind and actions, and nothing makes sense. I’m watching myself on autopilot with little to no control.
I wipe the corner of my eyes and I’m cutting open the packaging of the takeout box when I hear my phone ring. A familiar name flashes across the screen and a cold wave of relief washes over me.
“Has the hospital run out of patients?”
“Ha ha,” Holly says. I hear some rustling on her end. It sounds like a bag of chips. “I just have fifteen minutes to kill. Thought I’d check up on you.”
“Check up on me? Hol, I’m not a child.”
“Of course, you’re not,” she says. “I don’t hate you.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t hate children.”
“Actually, I hate most of them.”
“Well, I’m sure they hate you back.” I stab a piece of my harissa chicken.
“Just goes to show how little they have going on in their lives.”
“Are you done checking up on me?”
“How’s everything with Parker?” she asks and my heart crumples in on itself. “Have you guys made up yet?”
A laugh drenched in self-pity leaves my mouth. “Far from it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I wipe my eyes and fall back against the white cushions. “Not really.”
“That’s all right. I get it,” she says. And I know she’s the only one who does. “Although can I say one thing, sis?”
“When have you ever needed permission to speak your mind, Hollister?” I hear her gag at the name and I smile. “Is it going to be a little pep talk? I want a pep talk. I need a pep talk.”
“More bumper sticker, less pep talk.”
“I’ll take it.”
“I really don’t like that asshole.”
I frown. “Let me note that down so we can get a fridge magnet made.”
“You didn’t let me finish. I don’t like him because I know how much he means to you,” she says, somehow making even less sense. “That only gives him the power to hurt you.”
“Case in point,” I mumble.
“But you mean a lot to him too. He’s given you the same amount of power.”
“How is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “But I just want you to know that kind of love is rare and, honestly, a little gross. I’m sure I caught him drooling once or twice.”
“Okay?”
“That kinda love doesn’t disappear, sis.”
But love is hardly ever enough. And it shouldn’t be either. Because with the right person, love will always be present. It’s what you’re willing to do above and beyond that single emotion that makes or breaks a relationship. It’s forgiveness and compromise and a lot of pain. That’s what makes it worth it. That’s what makes it worth fighting for.