Page 9 of The Girl I Once Loved

Eliza sighs again, this time with a tinge of disappointment.

"Think about it, Skylar. Thatcher's Bay might be the perfect place to find the inspiration you need. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll realize that it's time to step out of the shadows and into the light where you belong. Remember that you are a strong independent woman. There is nothing you can’t overcome. Even going home."

Easier said than done.

“I’ll think about it,” I lie, sensing Eliza won’t drop the subject any other way.

“Good,” she says, pleased. “Well, have fun this summer. And congratulate your sister on her upcoming nuptials for me. Take care, Skylar.”

I hang up the phone, the weight of Eliza's previous words sinking in. Right now, I feel as far away from the light as you can get. It takes courage and strength to finish those unfinished sentences that have haunted me for seven long years.

And I don’t seem to have any left over.

I stare out my window at the bustling city, and I can't help but feel a mix of fear…and anticipation. Three months in Thatcher's Bay. Three whole months to face all the ghosts of my past. To maybe lock them away for good.

My phone buzzes and I glance down at it.

Gael.

How are you?he writes, and even through a text I can taste the melancholic edge in his words.

Can we meet?I ask, instead of answering his question.

I don’t want to admit that I haven’t been obsessing over our ‘break’ like I’m sure he has. Your heart can only be truly shattered once in a lifetime.

And mine’s already happened.

Our coffee shop?he asks, andthat’swhen a tear slips down my cheek. Because it hits me that if this turns into the end…it’s the end of everything about my life as I know it. It’s the end of ‘our’ and the coffeeshops, restaurants, parks, slow walks through the familiar streets, cheap wine while I read with my head in his lap…that the word belongs to.

I slide to the floor, thinking about all that will have to be rebuilt.

Everything but my heart, I think.

And that’s the hardest thing to deal with out of everything.

Realizing that I’m broken. Permanently, it seems. That something’s wrong inside of me. Something I can’t fix. My inner fabric is too scarred up to ever be whole again.

It’s raining outside when I finally leave my apartment to meet up with Gael. Uncaring to turn back to grab an umbrella, I walk through it, taking in every drop until I’m standing at the door of ‘our’ coffee shop, sopping wet.

Like I expected, Gael’s already there, sitting at a table with two drinks, one that I know will have my cinnamon vanilla latte with almond milk, because he’s thoughtful like that.

He doesn’t see me at first, which I use for my own advantage just to stand there in the rain, staring at him. Wishing that I could love him. Want him. Need him.

I know one of the reasons I’m suffering from writer’s block is because there’s nothing left in me. I can’t write for myself because it’s too personal. You can’t slice open your wrist and drip onto the page when there’s nothing in your veins to start with.

Gael will be a regret I’ll have to carry with me forever if I can’t get over myself.

I just hope he’s not too heavy to carry.

Finally, I open the door and walk in, his head turning up towards me in an instant. I can see it so clearly in his eyes… how he forgets everything and everyone around him, even if just for a second, excited to see me.

Like he always is.

But with every step I take towards him, awareness comes back to him as he remembers the reality of us.

The sparkling light in his eyes begins to dim, taking small sips at my soul as I watch it fully disappear.

But it still doesn’thurt. Not likehim.

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