Ella

August 23rd, 2018

Christian,

Do you still think about me?

I guess I'm just wondering because there's times that I still think of you. Like, I'll see something in a store that I think you'd like, or I'll see something on TV that I think you'd find funny. I want to reach out to you still so many times, but everything is so different now.

I often fight with myself because I know I shouldn't miss you, but damn it, I do. A lot. I miss the way you'd smile at me. I miss the way you danced to songs in the car when you totally couldn't dance. I miss talking all night long to you about anything and everything. You were my best friend. You knew everything about me, and now that so much has changed it's like you know nothing.

I've changed so much. I've grown, I've matured, and I think I owe part of that to you. Because of you I know how not to let a man treat me. I have standards now. I know for future reference what I want and what I don't want. I think maybe that's why I needed to experience this heartbreak with you. Because of it I gained so much knowledge for my future relationships.

So, I guess even though I got my heartbroken by you, I still would've gone through it all over again if I had the chance.

__________

"Mom, I'm fine."

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I'm completely lying.

I'm the furthest thing from fine. If feeling like a train just ran over my entire body or like one thousand knives just stabbed my heart repeatedly then okay, I'm fine.

"Grandma called and told me what happened. I know that what you're going through must be the worst thing honey, but it'll get better in time. You just need to give it time."

Yeah, I just need to give it time. Sure, I'll just give it time. I'll just sit here in my room like I have been for a week and try to not think about the way he smiled and grabbed onto my hand, or the way he said things no other boy has ever said to me before. He said things that I've always dreamed of hearing. Like two years ago, before I used to go to bed, I'd stare up at the ceiling and I'd think about what my boyfriend would look like or how he'd treat me. I'd think about all of the quirks he'd have, or the little inside jokes we'd share. Then I met Christian and got my heart stomped on to the point I thought that it would never beat for anyone ever again. I professed my love to someone who didn't even care. I spilled my feelings out to someone I thought was my friend, someone I thought would be my boyfriend, only to find out he was embarrassed by me. I swore to myself that night when I cried so hard I thought I'd stop breathing that never again would I allow any man to treat me that way. Now I'm sitting here alone in this room with puffy red eyes crying over another boy who doesn't want to be seen with me either.

"I'm fine." I say again when I realize I haven't responded, almost like a robot.

"I just don't understand why you wouldn't tell me." My mother scorns. "We talk on the phone every night, and never once did you ever mention a-"

"I'll be fine once you stop talking about it mom, please. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it, but it's been a week and he hasn't called. I'm just going to try and enjoy my last two months here and forget this ever even happened."

Then she changes the subject like a good parent would and talks to me about how my job is going. The job is going like it has been for the past month now. I go to the shack, I put on my apron, and then I go around to each table and serve them. The only difference is that now I go into work praying and hoping he's sitting at the bar. I don't know why I want to see him so much, but I do. I really do.

After I describe to her how much fun it is, not telling her that I'm exaggerating, I hang up the phone with a simple goodbye and just sit here in my room. Two hours are left until I have to leave for work, so that just gives me two more hours to sulk.

I wish I never met Patrick. I wish I went with my gut instinct when I met him and had just told him to go away and to leave me be. But that's the thing about Patrick. He wouldn't leave me alone. He kept trying to open me up and get to know me. Why? I have no clue. Why would he continue to talk to me and continue his countless efforts of getting to know me when he had no intention of actually staying?

His face never left my memory when he saw his friends that night. He looked so embarrassed, so ashamed. Was I that ugly of a person to be seen with? Well, I guess for a guy like Patrick Connelly it made sense.

Why couldn't you have just been like every other jock and just not have given me a second thought Patrick? Why couldn't you just leave me alone and not try to get to know me when I told you I didn't want to get involved the first time? Why do you have to have a smile that makes my heart want to give out? Why did you need to tell me I was beautiful? Why did you have to be the first guy to tell me I was beautiful?

This is the thing that sucks the most about breaking up or just ending it with someone in general. I don't think you need to be in a relationship to get your heart broken. I don't think you need to be in a relationship for a year to feel like you've just lost something important. You can kiss someone and fall for them. Maybe not fall in love, but you can fall for them. Then when it's over you're just left with the memories.

The worst kind of break up is when everything is left unspoken though. That one's the worst. Like, when they end it for no reason whatsoever and make up one of those lame excuses like it's not you it's me, or I'm just not ready for a relationship. They just hope that you'll be okay with that, but if someone really cares about you or your feelings they'd explain to you the reason they want to end it instead of leaving you hanging and wondering what the hell happened.

Then you get to lie here and realize that they're sitting in their room perfectly fine, perfectly content with themselves knowing that they destroyed a heart and made someone feel so low. They don't care. The only thing they care about now is that they don't have someone to worry about at night.

But when you're in love as a teenager you should be expecting this to happen in the first place. You can't possibly think that the first person you fall for you'll end up getting married to and live happily ever after or something, because that only happens in the movies. It doesn't happen in real life, and it's a sucky thing to have to come to terms with, but it's just the truth. Love isn't like Grease, where John Travolta will change his ways and end up sweeping you off of your feet. I'm not trying to be a sadist or a debby downer, I'm just trying to explain the cold hard truth about love.

"Can I come in?"

I quickly wipe the few tears underneath my eyes and let my grandma come into the room, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips when I see a plate of cookies in her hand. I shouldn't take one off of the plate since I'm trying to lose weight, but I take one anyways and divert my eyes to the floor, unable to make eye contact with her.

The room grows silent for a few moments until she sits down beside me on the comforter and places the cookies next to her. "I know that it's going to take awhile for you to be okay, but you need to know that what happened isn't your fault sweet pea. It's that boy's loss."

"I know." I mutter, sniffling from trying to keep the tears back. I hate crying in front of people. "It just sucks. I let myself get my hopes up and he just turned out to be a total jerk. I should have known better."

"You didn't know any better." She explains, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I can't help but slowly let the tears fall onto my cheeks now, almost on the verge of breaking down. "It's okay to feel pain. It's okay to feel loss. This pain you're experiencing now is going to make you appreciate the right one so much more when you find him."

"I know," I cry, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I appreciate all of this grandma, but I can only hear this stuff so many times. Patrick was different. He had genuine interest in me, you know? I just can't help but think what life would be like if I were born skinny like mom. I wouldn't have dealt with any of the pain I've had. I'd get boys, I'd be happy, I'd be so pretty. Why do I have to be so ugly?"

"Honey..." she trails off, shaking her head in disbelief. "Is that really what you think of yourself? Do you think that being skinny would fix the problem? Do you think that your mom didn't have boys break her heart in high school? Let me tell you, I stayed up many of nights with her just like I'm doing with you right now. Even if you were skinny there'd be something else that would bother you, trust me. To think that you're not beautiful is astounding dear. You are the prettiest little lady I know." She pokes me on the nose, causing me to laugh a little. "You deserve all of the love in the world. Never forget that."

"Thanks." I reply sheepishly, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I have to get ready for work."

"Alright. I'll leave the cookies here if you want anymore." She replies, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, hon. Always."

The door to my room gently closes behind her, and as I begin to undress myself I look at the long body mirror in the closet, the reflection of me in my bra and underwear staring back at me. I run my fingers down my stomach, pausing to pick at the extra skin towards the bottom. I raise my arms out to my sides and pinch the extra skin back to see what I'd look like without it, biting slightly on my lower lip from how much I hate myself. My grandma can tell me until she's blue in the face that I'm beautiful. Deep down I know they're saying that just because they're my family. They're kind of obligated to say that, right?

Patrick called me beautiful too, but I don't think he ever really meant it. I think he was just saying that because he felt sorry for me. I'm so heartbroken over him that I'd do everything all over again though. I'd go through this pain all over again if it meant I could kiss him again. I would do anything just to hear him call me beautiful one more time, because when he said it I almost believed it. 

A/N:

Ahhh sad chapter :( 

I love Patrick and Ella so much. UGH. 

Please comment/vote if you enjoyed this chapter :) 

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