Loneliness eats you alive, especially when you’re so used to having someone to turn to.
Sam was there for me every time – with my parents, with my school struggles – and I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted. No, needed, for us to get past this.
It wasn’t an answer someone ever wanted to hear – but it was the truth, and knowing the truth hurts, but not as much as being kept in the dark, and knowing it.
I slid down the length of the dorm room door, and finally allowed the tears to come rushing out, the tears I hadn’t even realised I was holding back, because I was so angry at the world, at Theo, at myself, to focus on the pain.
But that’s what this was – I hurt Sam, and that hurt me.
Because even if you no longer love a person, or you find yourself questioning if you ever even did, the guilt still resides within you.
And so I did the last thing I ever wanted to do, but the harsh reality was that I didn’t have a choice.
So, once the sobs were out, once enough time had passed confirming Lilian’s absence for the rest of the night, I managed to pick myself up off the floor, and head towards the campus bus station.
It must’ve been four in the morning, and I couldn’t tell you. I had no battery left on my phone, I was shivering in my short skirt and tank top, and had only twenty bucks in my skirt pocket.
Enough for a bus ticket.
Because I was going back home for Christmas, to the last people I wanted to see.
I must’ve looked absolutely miserable to the people on that bus. My inappropriate attire, my hair frizzy and tied up in the messiest ponytail.
You wouldn’t think it was four days before Christmas if you looked at me – the mascara smudged underneath my eyes didn’t exactly reflect the jolly atmosphere in which those around me seemed to thrive in.
But at this point I couldn’t care for others.
I had to get away from that campus, as far as I could get whilst still being in reach.
Because as much as I hated to admit it to myself that night, after I had gotten my frustration out, he returned.
Him and his stupid fucking green eyes burned right through me, as if he took that journey with me on the bus.
As if he was there, on the empty seat right next to me, the whole time.
But I couldn’t do that to myself.
I couldn’t bring my eyes to meet his own.
So instead, I turned my back to him, ignoring all the ways in which he spoke to me.
“Come back to me, Dove.”
“Don’t go to your parents, Dove.”
He wasn’t real. He wasn’t actually there.
He was just a figment of my imagination, my mind’s attempt at trying to focus on the only positive in my life.
My only constant.
Which is funny, considering my real constant was back in our apartment, where I should’ve been.
Where I always should’ve been.
When the signpost indicating our arrival in Redmond appeared to the side of the road, a frown overcame my face.
I was less than pleased to be here, but again, I had no choice.
When you have nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to, you take on these extreme measures.
Even if it means they’ll bring you even more pain.
But I couldn’t stay there.
Not after what had happened.
“Oh my god, look at you! What happened, Dove? Are you alright?”
“No, mum.”
“What are you wearing?”
“It’s…. nothing. I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just go inside please? I’ve had a long morning.”
She didn’t question me further, instead guided me inside the house and made sure I sat by the fireplace in the living room, bringing me a blanket so that I could warm up quickly.
“Dove -” she starts.
“Mum, I’m really sorry for turning up here without warning. Something happened, and I don’t particularly want to get into it, but I just need a place to crash until after New Years, so could I maybe stay here the rest of the week?”
I sounded pathetic, and needy, asking my own mother if I could stay in my own house. But truth is, I never had a good relationship with her, given how I was brought up. Sam’s mother became my own, because mine was too busy arguing with my dad to acknowledge my existence.
It sucked that I couldn’t be close to her in the way that I wanted to.
I felt the need to ask for permission every time, even with little things – I didn’t feel as if I could do something on my own around either one of my parents without being judged, or told otherwise, and so I quite literally had to be accepted back here for a week.
“Of course, Dove. This is your home too,” she had simply stated.
But it didn’t feel like my home anymore. I’m not sure it really ever did, but now more than ever, I felt like a stranger in this house.
“Where’s dad?” I asked, after a moment of uncomfortable silence, scanning the room for any sight of him.
My mum looked down at her hands on her lap, and took in a deep breath, but didn’t respond.
“Mum, where’s dad?” I repeat myself, my tone significantly harsher this time.
“Your dad and I …”
Oh no.
“Mum, did you and dad -”
“Oh, god! No honey, no. We’re just… taking a little break, that’s all.”
“So where is he now?”
“He’s…. on a lake trip with Sam’s father for the weekend. He’ll be back on Monday. We needed this,” she had reassured me, trying to reason with my growing nerves.
But the mention of Sam’s name brought it all back.
I saw so much of us, or rather the new us, in my parents.
And I couldn’t stand the thought of growing into them.