It’s hard when your mind and heart are at conflict – one’s telling you to be rational, to think things through and avoid being impulsive.
But the other is telling you to do the exact opposite.
And it’s confusing.
I stare at my phone screen for a moment, simply blinking, and blinking again, trying to process Sam’s words.
His voice sounded sadder than usual, raspier, and simply not like him.
And it was all because of me.
I knew I had to go back to the apartment then – because, like most stories, all good things must come to an end.
And Theo was no longer a regret.
I wouldn’t take back that night if it depended on my life – he had made me feel something, anything, after my heart had rejected any feelings for so long.
I was an open book, and gave myself to him completely and wholly.
But fantasies are never meant to last too long.
We both knew this.
“Theo!”
“Yeah?” He shouts from the kitchen, and when I don’t respond, he gets the gist and makes his way back to the bedroom.
“What’s wrong?”
I know communication wasn’t our strong point, but now more than ever, it was necessary.
Besides, I didn’t owe him anything, and so he should’ve been grateful I at least thought to explain myself.
“Um, forget breakfast. I have to go,” I try to sound confident, but my words come out in a low voice.
“I don’t -”
“Sam called.”
“Oh.”
He looks down, avoiding eye contact, and I take this as my cue to start packing the bag.
“Dove, can we talk about this first?”
Now he wanted to talk?
“Talk about what? My boyfriend called, so I’m going back home.”
I had called it that, but deep down I knew this not to be true.
That apartment was once home, but not anymore.
Theo knew this too, I know he did.
“So what, I fuck you and now you’re just going to run back to him?”
What the fuck was his problem?
“What’s your problem? You’re not my boyfriend, he is. Don’t think because of what we did last night that anything has changed.” I seethe, expecting to hurt him, but instead he just smirks.
“Yeah, it hasn’t. You’re still a whore who cheats on a guy she’s fed up with.”
Oh. My. God.
“You don’t get to fucking do this! After everything, you’re not going to throw that shit in my face. You’ve never had a problem with it before asshole, so why do you seem to think your opinion matters this time?” I’m full on screaming now, but I don’t care enough to change my tone.
“You’re right, I don’t have a problem with it. You’re using me just as much as I’m using you, it’s a fun game we’ve got going on here.”
I was suppose to hurt him. To get to him.
But instead, the tables turned on me.
And his harsh words hurt more than I could ever tell. Nothing else he could have said would’ve stung so bad. Because he was absolutely right – I was cheating, and he was simply fooling around with no consequences.
We weren’t in this together, no matter how much I wanted us to be.
A tear threatens to fall at his brutal truths, but I hold them back just long enough.
“That’s not what we’re -” I squeak, and look down at my feet, my cheeks flustered.
“Great. You’re free to go, then.”
He’s giving me permission to leave? He’s dismissing me?
“Theo -”
“See you at halftime, freshman?” He smirks, cocks his head and leaves the bedroom, returning to the kitchen and finishing up breakfast for himself.
Leaving me there, his words continuing to slice through me.
But I couldn’t find it in me to talk back.
Because once again, I was in the wrong.
And yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to admit to it, not until it was too late.
So, I finished packing up my things, shoving my clothes in carelessly, then rushing to the bathroom to retrieve my toiletries bag.
It’s sight alone, in Theo’s bathroom, made me want to break down.
It looked so in place, fitting in like a puzzle piece.
Puzzle pieces.
We were broken puzzle pieces, torn apart and left scattered.
And I wasn’t sure if I was referring to Sam or him anymore.
Once I was done packing, I raced out of the bedroom, but not before taking one last glance over at the bed, and my vision became blurry at an instant, remembering and cherishing the events of last night.
How did we come to this?
Why were we so messy, and yet so coordinated all the same?
I don’t bother to take one last look at him, because his back was turned to me anyways. He was so at peace, so calm, and I was barely holding it all in.
I slammed the front door, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference, but I needed him to know how much he had hurt me.
“I care about you,” he had said.
“See you at halftime, freshman?” He had also said, and this overpowered his sweet nothings from just hours ago.
Halftime.
A vulnerable break in the game when I would eventually find my way to the back of the stands, or to the far fencing, over and over again.
An addicting cycle.
He knew I’d come back to him, because I always did.
Always.
By the time I had reached the apartment, I was a puddle of tears and sobs.
Sam had comforted me through the night, believing these tears to be for him, all the while being for the boy who didn’t deserve them, and yet got them anyway.
All I could see whenever I looked up at my boyfriend’s face however, were angry green eyes and mocking smirks.
And when I took his hand in mine, our fingers lacing, I kissed the back of it, the perfectly imperfect wolf face inked into the skin.