How To Get Your Heart Broken (24 page)

How to Get Your
Heart Broken

I’m
an expert at getting my heart broken; I didn’t realize it until I met you. I
guess I’ll start by saying that I’m sorry, because I don’t feel like I could
say it enough. You didn’t deserve what we did to you, what I did to you. I want
you to know that I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. I know that an
explanation isn’t going to justify any of it, but I thought you should have
one, just in case. The truth is that we weren’t really thinking. I was angry
about what Ryan had done to me and Rachel was trying to make me feel better.

 
I don’t think either of us really thought
about what our actions would mean and I never imagined it would go as far as it
did.
See I got myself into this mess that I couldn’t
get out of. If I admitted that I liked you I would have had to quit the bet and
tell you the truth, which meant you hating me. It made sense at the time. I
felt the only way to be with you was to pretend I didn’t want to.
In a way, the plan worked out perfectly because I sort of got everything I
deserved. This stupid bet didn’t make me feel better, not for a second. But you
did. Except now I feel worse than I’ve ever felt. I deserve that for trying to
hurt you. Not just because you had nothing to do with any of this, but because
you deserve so much better.

I’m
sorry if I ruined any chance of there being a future for us before we even got
a real chance to see what could have been. But I’m still hoping that I didn’t.
When I met you, I was so angry at the world and at everything, I was keeping so
much inside that I think I was on the verge of spontaneous combustion. I’ve had
a lot of people betray my trust, and I guess that sort of turned me into a cynical
person. I guess that’s why I came in assuming you were like every guy I’ve ever
known and that what I was doing was somehow justified. Of course all of this is
ironic, because you proved me wrong in so many ways.

I
wasn’t planning on opening up to anyone; I was never even honest with myself.
But there was something about you that changed that. I told you things I never
meant to, I trusted you without even choosing to. When we started the bet, I
had this whole plan about the way I had to act to get you to like me, which
sounds pretty pathetic now. Anyway, all of that went out the window as soon as
we met, you could always tell when I wasn’t being genuine and it was easier to
be myself with you then to pretend to be anyone else. I think that’s part of what
made me so afraid; feeling like you could see right through me all the time. It
made me even more guarded; I couldn’t let anyone look at me that way without
any control of what they saw, without any way to protect myself, and especially
not you, some guy that was just supposed to be a distraction. I didn’t realize
that that was exactly what I needed, someplace where I couldn’t hide anything,
where I didn’t have to pretend I was invincible, or present some illusion of
strength and confidence. I’ve spent so long pretending to be those things,
though I am neither most of the time. But I’d convinced everyone, so they
burdened me with more than I could handle. I’m not sure why I’m telling you
this. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain what a relief it was to have
someone that didn’t want me to be like that. It made me feel so much safer.

That’s
why it took me so long to tell you the truth, because I didn’t want to give you
up. Because
you’re
too much to lose. For nineteen years, I haven’t been
able to figure out who I am, or to accept it. I’ve been more concerned about
what everyone else wants from me, and how I wanted everyone else to see me than
figuring out how to be okay with the person I really am. You changed that in
just a few weeks. I’m not so afraid to admit all of the things that hurt me, or
that I always expect the worst from people, or that I love you. Because the
thing I’ve realized is, pretending those things aren’t true don’t make them any
less true. The truth is easier. It would be even easier if you were talking to
me, but I guess I can’t blame you.

You
see the thing is the reason you made it so much less scary to face the truth,
is because you showed me that there are people that aren’t going to take
advantage of that. It gives me hope, that there are people better than me in
the world, people like you. And I hoped you could forgive me because even
though I know it’s a lot to ask for, I can’t stand the thought of you hating me
forever.

I
wish there was some way I could show you how sorry I am, or to show you that I
could do better. But the only way is if you give me another chance because you
can only see that through time. There isn’t any insurance I can give you; you
just have to believe in me. That’s what love is, that’s what I learned from
you.

I
know that you’ve already been so patient with me, and it shouldn’t be as hard
as I make it. It’s just that you’re so good, sometimes I think you can’t be
real. In my mind I know how stupid that is, but there’s nothing I can do about
the way I feel. So just in case I never see you again, I want to say thank you
for teaching that courage is being willing to put yourself out there no matter
how many times you get hurt; for making me feel like I am enough even when I’m
not strong or fun or kind; for restoring my faith in people, and for being my
own personal sun.
 

Eli

Fearless

I stood with my arms crossed, digging my
toes into the sand as I watched Rachel swim back to where I was standing.

“Should I be worried?” I asked when she’d
reached me, mentally laughing at how monotonous and unworried my voice sounded.

It had been eight days since Jessie had
come to see me and a five since I’d sent that letter pouring my heart out. I
spent every day doing my best not to wallow and trying to maintain the delicate
balance between being hopeful and being pathetic.
 
And…nothing. Hopeful had been a pathetic
waste of time.

“Why don’t you save the worry for yourself?
I think you need it more.”

I stared wordlessly at her, suddenly
realizing that there was something different about her, something I was sure
I’d never seen in Rachel before. Maybe our talk
had
actually helped her.

“Relax!” She sighed after a minute, rolling
her eyes dramatically, “I was just going for a swim.”

“Really?” I asked, wondering how she could
pretend this was a casual conversation when she’d avoided everything from the
ocean to ponds before this summer.

She nodded excitedly, and I had just enough
left in me to be happy that what was different was good. And maybe it wouldn’t
last forever, maybe it wouldn’t last more than five minutes, but I knew it
would come again. This was the first but it certainly wouldn’t be the last time
Rachel wasn’t tormented by her past.

I looked down at the silver, oval locket
she had begun wearing the past few days. I had been reluctant to ask about it.

“Can I see?” I asked, although my hand was
already on the necklace.

She gave me a small nod.

I opened it slowly. There was a picture of
her brother inside smiling a wide, gap-toothed smile.
 
I’d almost forgotten how young he was.

On the other side was a simple engraving in
graceful cursive loops:
Leon
.

I closed the locket just as gently and looked
up at her. She gave me a small smile as if to assure me that she was okay, at
least for now.

 
We
were both silent for a moment and then suddenly, she turned and ran back into
the water. I watched for a moment before following behind.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked, my leggings
already soaked by the time I got to her.

I sat on the wet sand, my chin on my knees
as I gathered myself into a ball, waiting for the oncoming wave. I shivered as
it passed over me, half of my body momentarily engulfed in the cold rush. I
watched Rachel swim the short distance back to where I was sitting.

“Like I said, save the worrying for
yourself,” she said, staring at my now soaked clothes.

“Jesus was born in the summer,” I said in
explanation as I looked down at my Christmas sweater, “If anything, it’s even
more appropriate now.”

She tilted her head, as if searching for my
sanity somewhere above my head.

“Hey just for the record, it wasn’t Jessie
that called the cops that night. It was Julian,” she said suddenly.

I swallowed. Even hearing his name was like
a shock to my system. We had gone from Ryan being the
one-who shall-not-be-named
to Jessie taking the title. I wondered
if I’d ever escape the cycle.

“Great,” I said quietly. Couldn’t he just
do one thing wrong so that I could live under the illusion that I had dodged a
bullet rather than lost something valuable? I really should have been beyond
hoping. I hadn’t received any sort of reply to my letter. I’d poured my heart
into that thing and if it wasn’t enough, it meant that
I
wasn’t enough. If I could think of anything else, I would have
tried it, but I didn’t really feel there was any point.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you,” she said
apologetically.

I shrugged, “It’s ok. I have to go clean
myself up…”

She sat beside me, shaking her head like
she’d just learned of some tragedy. I felt her eyes on me as I stood up and
walked away, thinking of how ridiculous I must have looked just then. Even I
was feeling sorry for myself.

---

“Time to go,” Rachel said impatiently,
holding her hand out for me.

“You look great! Just trust us,” Ashton added,
and then I was being ushered out of the door.

They hadn’t given me the slightest hint as
to where we were going, though I had enough sense to know
who
it would involve. To be honest, I still hadn’t decided how I
felt about it. I stared down at the deep blue maxi dress I’d been forced into,
trying not to think of what it reminded me off.

“You look like you’re going to be in a
freaking wedding!” Rachel had said to me and Ash, who was also wearing a long
dress.

They’d had some differences when it came to
how I should be dressed for the mysterious occasion, Rachel arguing that it
looked like I was trying too hard. Alas Ashton won the fight, mostly because I
was too lazy to change and I wanted to get whatever this was over with.

Where were we going to go, anyway? The sun
had already set; the finality of our summer here, of our youth, of Jessie and I
all seemed clearly written in the sky.

Anyway, did it really matter what I wore?
Was there any outfit that would make him not hate me?
 
And what was the point? Like Rachel had said
earlier, today was our last night here and in just a few hours, we would all be
going our separate ways.

It had been thirteen days now since I sent
Jessie that letter. I still hadn’t heard a word, for all I knew he wasn’t even
next door anymore. The silence was deafening.

I ran directly into Rachel when she
stopped, wondering what we could possibly be doing in the middle of the beach,
in the dark, with the notebook and colored pencils Ash had brought along.

“Over there,” Ash said, pointing a little
ways away from where we’d stopped.

I stared down at the pile of wood in front
of Julian, raising an inquisitive eyebrow when he threw a lit match into it.

Yet I was suddenly too distracted to think
of anything else as I watched Jessie walking towards where we were standing.

“Let’s get started,” Ash said, doing her
best impression of a game show host as Rachel pushed me towards the log seats
they’d placed around the fire.

I sat across from Jessie. I wondered if it
was by design. While I couldn’t take my eyes off him, he was using all of his
energy to look everywhere but at me. I almost felt sorry for him.

“Eli... Eli!”

My head jolted towards Ash as I let out a
quiet, “Yes?”

“Did you get any of that?” She asked,
already deciphering the answer from my blank stare.

I shook my head quietly, wondering what she
could possibly have said that was so important.

“The reason we’re here,” she said as if
she’d read my mind, “Write down anything you want. Any thoughts, fears, any
negative energy you want to let go of before we leave this place and start the
next chapter of this crazy journey we call life! Anything you wish was
different, any regrets…” I rolled my eyes at her deliberate pause, “Then you
burn it. For example I would write that I wish I’d never learned about my
mother’s affair.”

My eyes widened as she smiled, and she sent
me a shrug that seemed to dismiss the entire thing as if it hadn’t had the
least bit of an effect on her.

“Write,” she whisper-shouted to me,
pointing to the pencil and paper beside me after I’d continued to stare at her.

THIS IS STUPID
.
 
I’d etched in all caps
onto my piece of notebook paper. I was surprised to see everyone attentively
writing when I looked up, especially Rachel. Jessie seemed deep in thought, and
I could imagine all of his “negative energy” had once common source. How hard
could it be to just write my name down?

I couldn’t help the sudden sense of déjà vu
that took over me, as I thought of our bonfire earlier this summer. I’d never
wanted to see him again because I didn’t want to deal with what he’d learned
about me. I wondered how things would have been different if I’d never talked
to him again, if I’d acknowledged that beating Rachel wasn’t the most important
thing in the world and spared him the misfortune of getting to know me.

He looked up at me suddenly, seeming to
sense my eyes on him. I didn’t bother to look away or pretend I had been
staring at the empty space above his head instead. He stared long enough to
make me forget what I was thinking before glancing back down at his paper.
Something in his eyes told me that he wanted me to take this seriously too.

I
wish I didn’t love you
.

From the corner of my eye I could see everyone
balling up their pieces of paper and throwing them into the fire. I was busy
staring at him, as if I could somehow magically transfer the words from the
paper into his brain just by looking at him. I followed suit, throwing mine
just as my eyes met his.

I watched him ball his up, our eyes still
locked as it went over the fire and fell near my feet. I picked it up and threw
it into the fire without hesitating, after which curiosity led to momentary
regret, until he mumbled a barely audible, “Thanks.”

And I was suddenly filled with a small but
persistent ray of hope, just at the thought that he had acknowledged me. And
then I wanted to cry again because I was sure I’d never get past this. There
were all these moments where I convinced myself that it would get better, where
I tried to look at the bigger picture and decided that Jessie would become just
another memory in the grand scheme of my life, then he’d just look at me and
that thought would suddenly become the world’s best joke.

As if some imaginary clock had just chimed,
Rachel, Julian, and Ash all left at that moment, leaving me trying not to cry
again
as I tore my eyes away from
Jessie’s. I continued staring into the fire, even as I tried to contain my
surprise when he’d come to sit beside me.

“You tried to tell me, didn’t you? After
that party?”

I kept my eyes on my lap. I hadn’t stopped
wondering what would have happened if I had told him then, before it was too
late. I wondered if he would have forgiven me, or if everything would be the
same as it was now.

“I think I just wanted to turn a blind eye
to anything bad you had ever done…I just wanted to be with you.”

I was trying very hard not to dwell on his
use of the past tense, and to dismiss the feeling that I wanted to spend the
rest of my life curled into a ball and hidden under my covers because I would
never have enough energy for anything more.

It sounded like a dream when he said the
words, and his nonchalant tone was the only assurance I had that they were
truly Jessie’s words, “I forgive you.”

The words made me feel lighter suddenly, an
incredible weight being lifted off my shoulders but not entirely, I knew. I
supposed I hadn’t forgiven myself; for being so reckless and cruel, for hurting
him. Still, I wondered what this meant for him.

“I miss you,” he continued in the same
tone, not seeming to mind my silence. His eyes were glued to the fire. “I don’t
know why, but I do.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wasn’t even
sure if I was for apologizing for everything I’d done or for him missing me. I
had so much to say that I didn’t know what to say.

“I know,” he said easily. He was too good.
There was a small, very cynical part of me that thought he was faking it, that
he was saying all of this just to take it back later and get his revenge.

“But…” he let out a long sigh. “Elle…”

I shook my head; I already knew what he was
going to say. That he forgave me, but he couldn’t be with me. That the timing
wasn’t right anyway.

“I know,” I whispered back. My voice broke,
but I tried to smile through the pain.

‘I
know. You’re right. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.’

A reluctant hand on my back sent shivers
down my spine. I marveled at how little had changed, how these would always be
the moments I dreamt about, as he drew soothing circles on my bare skin, on the
parts left bare by my halter dress.

I wondered how I’d ever thought anything
would ever change. Why had I thought I would ever be able to stop wanting this
no matter how he felt about me? He

pulled me in closer when I couldn’t hold
the tears in any longer.

“You know it’s not cause I don’t care about
you right?”

I was surprised at how unsteady his voice
sounded. I was sure this was easier for him than it was for me. I wanted it to
be easier for him; I would never wish the way I felt in this moment on him.

I nodded into his chest.

‘
I
know,
’ I thought. I couldn’t speak.