Shatter – Part Two

Winter – 2005

So, shall we speak more on my complete lack of heartlessness?

I must admit to myself, I know I have a certain degree of iciness I exuded after Uniballer shoved me away.

And I would more, but I know how people don’t like it. In my head, my own thoughts are much more hard and critical than I could ever be aloud. Which is the purpose of this…record, shall we say? Memoir. I like that word too. But let’s continue.

I think things truly started to shift on that snow day. Honestly, before that, I’m not sure what happened. Something snapped between Uniballer and I. And I know it was obvious. Texas even saw it. Gave him some sort of ultimatum.

Forget about me, or go back to me. He said he would forget.

Guess he couldn’t.

And I won’t lie, that’s a real boost to the ego right there. We all strive to be unforgettable, right?

Especially with the ones we-

I won’t say that word. Not ever.

I won’t put myself out there to be shattered again so easily. Must keep a certain degree of coldness in such situations as these.

So, let’s go back to the snow day.

We all wanted it. Teachers, students, administrators, hell, even the janitors. And it was fantastic when it happened. I slept in a bit. Until I realized there was a good chance of my father letting me go wherever if I completed some chores.

It was noon when Uniballer, Texas, and Germany came over. They had a snowball fight in my front yard. Such the picture of childlike innocence. That I would give almost anything to go back to. But time travel hasn’t been discovered yet.

We went to his house.

Set up some video game that Germany became enthralled with. Killing things? Germany’s there in an instant. Texas played for awhile and I tried to get my laptop to work. In order to work on a school paper. So I was on the bed, and Uniballer moved up there. There was something electric going on between he and me. Not really physically, or anything. Jeez, I’m not a whore.

Well, most of me isn’t.

I don’t want to sound like I’m in some damn cheesy movie, either, but…it was just this…connection. I don’t know. Anyway, eventually he started playing with Germany and it was gone.

Then he and Germany came with me to my brother’s concert that night. I sat in between them. It was at this concert that I could almost feel what Katherine had been talking about.

That electric connection.

The…I don’t know, thread, that somehow defined us as together. It was there, and strong. And hard to ignore.

Near impossible.

I tried. I swear I did. Don’t try to label me as a slut or homewrecker. I didn’t have a choice. He knew it too.

The next afternoon, he told me.

He’d broken it off with Texas.

He and I could get back together.

The four of us all went to a friend’s party that night. He was highly affectionate, like we had already gotten back together. I’m sure everyone there was confused. Except for maybe Texas.

She was probably hurting.

Just like I had been.

Did I mention earlier that it’s a circle?

Here comes my bitter side though.

I never really agreed to go back to him.

I mean, I could have said no at any time. But I never really heard “You want to go out again?” from him. And I never got the chance to say yes. I can’t really hold it against him, as I wasn’t saying no either.
But a part of my regrets that. A large part. Maybe I’m just secretly a pessimist.

I should be shouting for joy. Jumping up and down. I won. I’m back with him. Problem solved. I could stop being so miserable.

And I did.

I was positively joyful. I was so happy on that Sunday, the first day we were officially back together (even without have been asked properly).

Then I crashed. All the backstabbing, breaking up, emotional roller-coasting. It hit me. Physically, too. That Monday and Tuesday I didn’t go to school. I was sick. I had a terrible headache, was dizzy and nauseous, had a high fever. I couldn’t even get out of bed.

The first day, Monday, in the afternoon, he came over and spent some time with me. And was an absolute gentleman. He understood not to be too affectionate, as I was sick. But as he was leaving, he said it.

“I love you”

And when I tell you this, you are going to think I am the biggest idiot in the world.

Or maybe you’re like Rika and think he’s the idiot.

I said nothing back.

I didn’t even say, “Uh huh.”

I was absolutely silent. In a state of such shock. I pulled away. I curled in on myself. Sound familiar?

I already knew he did, that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was I knew I could not reply. I couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. At least, I couldn’t say it out loud. I can’t honestly say if I felt the same way.

I’ve hidden it even from myself. And I can’t risk saying it unless I am one hundred percent sure. Not eighty percent, or ninety. Not even ninety-nine. I have to be totally sure to say something like that.

And I’m sure your thinking, “Well, yeah, so does everyone else. Don’t worry, you’ll come to say it in time.”

No, no, no. First of all, you’re playing the “sympathy card” again.

Second of all, you’re wrong.

I don’t know if I can ever say it.

Even if I do know, for sure. I’ve lost some degree of trust. And in order to hand my heart over, I have to have that trust. In its entirety. Nothing less. And that makes me realize that I don’t know if I can stay with him.

I either have to get that trust back, and be able to tell him those three little words.    Or let him go.

Again.

Damn circle.

After I got over my nasty guilt, and being sick, I came back to school and was on Cloud Nine. I was happy, almost all the time. And I know I was overly affectionate with him. Well, him with me, but I didn’t stop it. I enjoyed it.

And maybe it looked like I was “flaunting” my relationship. But the definition of flaunting includes the factor of trying to show off to other people.

I forgot the other people were there.

I wasn’t trying to be better than them. I was just renewing my happiness.

I’ve had those little worries about him going back to Texas. Or sneaking around with her. That terrible monster eating at me hasn’t gone away yet. But part of me says “You have to trust him.” Ha. That “t word” again.

Another part of me doesn’t care.

If he’s sneaking around with Texas, or planning on going back to her, then I’ve lost already. Not that it’s a game. But if he thinks about her, I can’t stop it. And I’ve lost a bit of that possessive edge. I care about him. A lot. I don’t want to lose him. But if I do…

I hope he’s happy.

And now…

Now I wonder what will happen next. Will I get over my trust issues? Will I continue to pretend that he’s my everything? Will he become my everything?

There are so many factors. Like a math equation. Heh. Germany would like that.

But does this one have an equal sign?

Can it be solved?

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