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The cold, hard truth, stares you right in the eyes: it’s too late, you are - probably - for sure - in love with Shane. And then Cherie happens. And your mom dies. Or both. Or none. You don’t know anymore…
What are you supposed to do when you fall in love with the wrong person? The one who ruined the best - and longest relationship - of your life? Stop it. Of course, stop it. Feelings are the useless thing ever.
You know Shane is the worst. You know. But you can’t stop thinking that you can read her. See what nobody else sees: the kindness, the empathy, the regrets, the pain. Mostly the pain. It’s like you can read her like no one else. Understand her maybe. Despite the - many - layers of bullshit. But can someone really change? You don’t for a fucking second think so. There is too much history. But you want to believe it. Because of the kiss. She doesn’t want to acknowledge it. You don’t care. It was the sweetest kiss of your life. Your entire body felt it, up to your toes. You had to stop it. To protect yourself. It would have gone nowhere. You’re not ready. You can’t trust her…
And Cherie. You don’t want to admit it, but you have to. There is chemistry there. Something from the past. You can’t compete. You’re nothing. The kiss meant nothing. You don’t matter. Cherie matters. You’re just one of many. Testing the waters, just for fun. You mean nothing. Why bother?
And then your mom dies.
She takes you to Vegas. She doesn’t talk. Or maybe she does. You can’t remember. The funeral is a blur. Everything is a blur. But she is here. You can tell. Always. Holding your hand when you talk to the creepy mortician, holding your hand when you’re filling the papers, holding you when you cry. Holding you in your mother’s room when you feel so empty you think you could disappear. And when she slowly kisses you again you feel like maybe it is not the end yet.
When her hand skims through your body, you don’t stop it. Why stop the inevitable? You’re sure it won’t last. But you will take what is offered to you. « I love you, don’t cry », she says. You don’t believe her. But when she kisses you harder, you don’t stop it. And kissing her back, you try to forget. It kinda of work. So you do it again. And again. And again…
You haven’t heard from Cherie for a while. You don’t care. But Shane is still there. Holding your hand. Kissing you. Slowly, always. You can’t feel the world yet. But you can feel her. Her mouth. Her hands. Her.
You love her.
You’ve loved her for a while.
And she loves you back. You know.