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You know what. I’ll make it simple for you, Jack, so you don’t have to worry about me. Let’s stop.
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Rayane, I don’t know what your game here is, but if you let me go like that, without saying anything.
You won’t see me again.
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You don’t really know how you made the journey back home. The only thing you hear is we don’t belong together , the only thing you see is his eyes - his beautiful eyes - staring back with an emotion you don’t recognise, without any clue in them as to what has happened just now.
No one’s home, when you do arrive. And while you remember not feeling everything on the way home, now you see your bed, a bed that might almost become your bed, with his body edged in the mattress, his favourite pillow on his side. When you hide in your bed, you can even smell his scent still, and that’s what breaks you.
For so many months, that’s all you had of him. His smell, when you held his guiding arm.
And now that’s all that’s left of him.
The tears come from deep within, and you put your headphones on to drown out the noise.
---
Next time you see him, it feels like he’s seeing this as a joke, once again. Like he didn’t shift the entire world on Friday. He’s always able to annoy you in the smallest ways, but back then, you could tell it wasn’t mean as he did - in the end, he always came home with you, cooked for you when your family was out.
Now it stops at the annoying stage.
And it angers you, that he comes to you again, seemingly just talking about exams and suddenly when you try to leave, mentioning that everything seems to be solved, because hey , he told his uncle about it now. He stopped. Just like you told him to previously - but clearly, you weren’t to be trusted back then.
He’s made his choice. Now he should sit with it. Forget you.
You block his number when you leave school. Less chance for him to use you as a dog, waiting to be called.
---
You love your family, you do. They’ve been very kind, providing you with snacks and distractions. But they keep on wanting you to talk when you have no way of telling them the truth at first; as much as you do not care about him at the moment, you’re not going to snitch on him. It’s not your story to tell, you think, and most of all: not your problem anymore anyway.
When the truth comes out, you still have no words to explain it all really, even if it’s all you can think about. It’s been days of repeating all the memories, losing sleep, not being able to eat because your brain just can’t stop working. It’s like everything you ever felt for him compounds into a black hole of no feeling at all.
It’s your mother, as usual, who manages to force her way into your defenses a little and you tell her more than you’ve told anyone before. The betrayal you feel, at being put aside by the boy you’ve been loving for more than a year.
He was the first one you told about the fear you felt at the prospect of being blind for the rest of your life, of being dependent on others. He told you you were brave, and helped you find a way to get some independence back. You were so vulnerable, and he was so kind.
You don’t understand why you cannot be the same to him. The story of his father doesn’t frighten you, but you only get glimpses and flashes, never the whole story. It’s difficult to see what his true feelings regarding his father are, because as far as you know he was absolutely horrible to his wife and his son. You don’t know why he cares about a letter from an asshole who abused him.
You hate him for breaking up with you, but maybe he saw something in you, a reason not to trust. He must’ve thought you were weak, unable to handle whatever he’s dealing with.
It pains you to think that he might be right. You don’t understand him.
Well, whatever. It’s not like he ever tried.
---
The only thing you feel you can control right now is your school work, so you delve into it, neglecting any messages from friends on hanging out or studying together. You’d rather be alone. It’s not exactly you punishing yourself, you think, but without people around you don’t have to answer questions you’re unable to answer.
Until one answer drops in your lap by way of your stepfather.
He also told him he’d come after you if he didn’t obey.
It’s a good answer. It’s an infuriating one too. Because why the fuck would he keep that all to himself?
The sleepless nights continue on and on.
---
He keeps trying to see you, talk to you. Suddenly, he wants to make it up to you. And while a small voice in the back of your mind says please, yes , your mouth says to focus on the oral examination. You’re frustrated that he keeps coming but even more angry at yourself that deep down you don’t want him to stop trying. You even unblock him on your phone.
Lizzie eventually tells you it’s been enough, that she’s tired of being your punching bag and it’s not without reason she feels so, you do know that. There’s an uncontrollable anger in you, blooming more and more and you can’t seem to stop it.
You don’t want to suffer alone.
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The next time he calls, you pick up. Against all better thinking, it’s nice to hear his voice again.
It makes you emotional all over, you’ve never heard him talk like this before, so sincere.
My life without you is nothing. It’s useless.
You have to breathe deeply to stop feeling too much after that.To stop yourself from saying that you feel exactly the same. From saying I love you back.
He hangs up without a goodbye. And you’ve never been this close before, from throwing all your anger away and just run into his arms, to smell his distinct smell, and his nuzzle into your shoulder.
But you can’t and you won’t. He made his choice and threw all of it away without regard for your feelings. You can’t do it anymore, not when you feel so much.
You have to stand fast, not show weakness. He’ll forget you soon enough.
---
It’s quiet for a few days. You graduate.
You wish you would feel better. You’re getting angrier and angrier that your body and mind don’t seem to listen.
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After being pestered by your siblings for the umpteenth time to get out, you go out by yourself.
There’s no path you’re looking to go on, but somehow unconsciously you find yourself in the skate park.
Maybe you should have mixed feelings being here, but your first kiss with him will always be something dear to you. You never imagined that night that you would be sitting here a year later, with nothing in return.
Lizzie finds you there, staring at the skaters flying by; within minutes she’s telling you to make up with him, that you still love him and that he makes you happy. It’s unreal, how even without his actual presence, there’s still someone telling you you should make up, to let it all be bygones. It’s as if no one realises what he’s done.
He left you. Why aren’t you allowed to be upset about it? No one else holds the cards here. You do, and it’s been enough. You’re not forgiving him, no matter what the universe is trying to tell you.
---
The universe sends him to your doorstep within hours.
It’s annoying you now, that no one seems to listen. He has no right to come in and try to give you presents that he clearly stole from his community service job, to make you listen to the hundredth apology that doesn’t actually say anything and you’re not even listening, you need him to be gone, you want to slam the door behind him, so that he erases his memory of where you live and what you meant to him. For him to finally make something easy for once.
He slams the door behind him himself.
---
Your mother asks you and Lizzie to come in for lunch. On the way there, a heart appears. Lizzie laughs, once again trying to poke into things she shouldn’t concern herself with.
There’s a man putting papers in windshield wipers, looking so intently that it can’t be anything other than something he set up again.
Anyway, you have no choice since you’re in love with me .
It’s a memory you won’t soon forget. Somehow, it surprises you that he even seems to remember in detail. Maybe even the first and last time he seemed to trust you, in your relationship with each other.
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After that preposterous display in the Spoon (the photos? the shirt!) you decide it’s enough. For one final time, you’ll tell him that it’s finished, and if he doesn’t stop, well. You’ll get to that when you see him.
But while he’s not at his community service spot; the man of the papers in the windshield wipers is. He tells you that it was his idea to bring you oysters, and that he wants to tell you a story.
He talks a lot.
He seems to look right through you, through your anger, your distance, through your hurt.
He sees your fear. Rayane is someone incredibly special to you, and the power he has to hurt you is immense. He has hurt you. It’s been unbearable.
But it only hurts so much because you know him from so many different moments too. You’ve felt loved by him, so deeply. Maybe even, deep down, you were more angry at yourself for not being able to forget him.
It’s impossible to forget him though. That’s always been the point. There’s never going to be rest for you if you don’t face it head on.
So time to face it head on.
----
It’s not easy, not like it usually is. Rayane still talks too much but you understand his sentiment of the memory lane. But it’s not like you even know what to say in this situation; it’s like you don’t have the words to say what you feel.
So the only thing you can do is show it. You kiss him and it relieves the tension in your body. Rayane looks like he thinks he’s dreaming and it’s sweet, and he smiles when you tell him he’s forgiven. You have forgiven him for his mistake; you feel that in your bones. You already forgave him when you found out he was threatened with them hurting you.
He smiles and it’s a fragile moment, but the next kiss feels good, and like a promise, and you embrace him tighter and tighter. Pieces of his story are still missing, and you hope this time - next time - he’ll tell you.
For now, there’s that scent again, and his nuzzle in your shoulder.
He’s always felt like home.