I cried for hours.
I cried for days.
It was horrible.
And I missed him so much.
That was the worst part; missing him. Because maybe I loved him and maybe I didn’t, but it was like having part of me cut out. He had been in every thought I had, every plan I made, every song I listened to. It was like death, but lonelier, if that is possible. Mindy came round and we ate ice cream, but it didn’t help. She didn’t and couldn’t understand how I felt. But it wasn’t her fault.I came into school, but I looked rough. I would practically roll out of bed, shower, eat and then leave. No make up, no fancy hair. I felt like bunking, but I couldn’t. I made a promise to not let a boy distract me from my work. And so I ploughed on.
Around 2 weeks after the incident it was raining. Not the kind of drippy-droppy English rain you read about in books. It was pouring down. Like god – or whoever was up there – was trying to quench the fires of my heart.
I walked home without an umbrella. The cold didn’t bother me anymore. I got in the house and put down my bag. I took my shoes of, fed the cat and did all the usual stuff. But I didn’t dry off. For once my body felt as cold as my soul did and it was nice. The cold was a reminder of how much it hurt. And I liked it. I started to like the pain and the suffering. I could no longer fight it.
The door bell rang.
Mum wouldn’t be pleased with the state I was in, but I was past caring.
I open the door.
He was standing there drenched. His uniform hanging from him, soaked. We just stood there looking at each other for what felt like years. I never knew how important looks could be until that moment.
He stepped inside and kissed me.
It was so passionate and strong that I nearly fell over. He pressed me against the wall and I wrapped my legs around his waist. ‘I love you.’ I said in between kissed. ‘I love you too.’ He would reply.
‘You know you should probably get going. My mother will be home any minute and she already thinks you are irresponsible.’ I said as Jack got up. ‘Fair point. If she found us like this, she wouldn’t be too pleased.’ He put the rest of his clothes back on. The rain outside had stop. ‘Jack what are we doing?’ I asked, slightly concerned. Did we have a future? What did this mean for us? ‘I think it is called falling in love.’ He replied.
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Laugh til you cry, love til you die.