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Getting On
It was hot. I was on the four-wheeler. Chris was behind me. He carefully untied the top of my bikini. His hands slid down my back and up agian to my neck; his thumbs pressing against my skin. I looked over at the flowing river, the small big of beach, and the lush trees as Chris continued to rub my back. His touch set my skin on fire. I looked back at him; his blue eyes had a light that shone through them. He leaned in to kiss me. I felt his hand curl around my neck as I closed my eyes. He-
"Do you really believe she needs medication?" My doctor's voice brought me back to present day. I looked at the calendar hanging on the wall. It was November. July was gone with the wind. The boy who had kept me alive through the eighth grade was gone now. My first love; my first real relationship. Chris was long gone.
"Obviously she does. Look at her." My mother and doctor turned to stare at me while I stared at the floor. "She's depressed. Her anxiety is through the roof. She's been having attacks every other day. She goes up in her room and shuts herself in there. She listens to depressing music and I can hear her crying. This needs to be taken care of."
I continued staring at the floor. She could hear me crying? S***. I didn't think she could.
"Michelle, do you think you're depressed?" My doctor was looking ta me, I could feel her eyes. I sat still hearing my mother sigh.
"Please." She said to the doctor. I heard her turn and scribble down something. Mother made an appointment with her for the following month.
The ride to the pharmacy and my dad's house was silent. I got out of the car when we arrived at Dad's, grabbing my backpack, and walking away mother called me back to the car.
"Honey, I'm trying to help you," she said with concern. I nodded my head.
"I love you. This has gotten way out of hand," she added and I nodded again. She looked forward as she said "okay, I'll see you this weekend. I love you."
"Love you, too," I said turning around and walking towards the door.
No one was home when I wlaked in. The Mustand was gone indicating that Dad and Tina went out. I put down my backpack in the bedroom then made my way to the kitchen for some comfort food.
After getting a 100-calorie pack of pretzel's I went into my room. Pictures of me and Chris still hung on my wlal. I looked at my favorite one, he and I, with my arms tihgtly wrapped around him, sitting on the four-wheeler. We're smiling big toward each other, about to kiss. I felt hot tears coming down my cheeks.
How am i even living right now? I thought. My world is falling apart. I sat on my bed as the tears came to mty eyes faster. I felt my heart ripping open the stiches once again. How could Chris get up and walk away like that? From me of all people? His kind words, his loving eyes, his love for me in general had gotten me through all of the craziness that I had experienced during the eight months we were together. Chri shad seen my pain, helped me through it. I tried to wipe away the tears but it was no use. They continued to flow from my eyes like a never ending river.
The next day I sat silently in my English class when my phone vibrated in my pocket. The teacher left the room long enough for me to grab it out. "Chris<3" was displayed on the screen.
"Michelle, get over this. I know it's hard, but God, you have everybody worried about you. Everyone is coming up to me telling me how much of a jerk I am."
"I'm sorry." I texted back. My teacher came back in as I quickly put my phone away and tried to stop the tears before anyone noticed they were there.
On my way to lunch I looked at my phone where another text from Chris waited for me:
"You don't need to be sorry. I understand you're heart, I am too. But you can't let it affect you this much.
"Okay." He wouldn't text me back now. He would believe that I agreed with him and would move on with my life although I knew I wouldn't. Right now I was stuck under a dark, sad, angry cloud that would remain until it squeezed out every last drop of tears.
I met Peyton and Lexis in the hallway in front of the cafe. We went outside and onto the bleachers. With them I wasn't as upset. I could stop thinking about Chris so much. Althought my friends tried their best not to stir up any memories, little words or phrases they said reminded me of the time I spent with Chris. It was just like when I saw couples in the hallway. I would see them and think "Chris and I never got our chance to do that". I had been in eighth grade at the middle school while Chris had been a sophomore in the high school. Thinking of that created an ache in my heart that lasted the rest of the day.
The days blurred together. I did what I was supposed to and took my medicated like I was asked to. It helped with the anxiety but not with the ache in my chest. It seemed like everyday I was doing the same thing over and over, nothing ever changed. I felt Chris moving on, away from me as the days went by. Taylor Swift put it perfectly in her song "Last Kiss". That song was replayed over when I cried myself to sleep at night.
"And I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep.
And I'll feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe.
And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are.
I hope it's nice where you are..."
These were the words that repeated in my mind day after day describing every bit of how I felt. I felt his feelings, his memories grow weaker with each passing day. I felt him let go with each passing second. He grew stronger while I grew weaker. As the hurt in my heart grew, Taylor Swift's words repeated again. After four months of being over, done, the words had mor emeaning than ever before. I felt him cut the string to my heart when I saw him hand in hand with another girl. The look in his eyes was filled with the love that he looked at me with.
A haze suddenly came over me that day. It took over my head, numbed the pain in my heart a little bit. The days began to go by so fast that they were forgotten. I wasn't letting go, I was holding tighter than I ever had. I kept the memories suppressed in my head, only allowing myself small memories at night when the tears came. Days went by, months were lost. My haze stayed.
Chris didn't text me- didn't worry about me. I stared as him and his new girlfriend walked happily by, feeling a pain in my heart as he ignored me. If he remembered what we used to have, who I was, who he was, he never showed it.
I began to think about how our future would've turned out. I realized that my sophomore year would be his senior year. He'd be gone. Completely erased from my life- as if he never exsisted. As if I never exsisted. Thinking of it brought more pain. I felt the pain of losing him all over again- of having the person who stayed with me through it all going away forever.
One night, I dared to look at that favorite picture that hung on my wall. His eyes shining so bright, full of love. The happiness, the joy in my eyes as we leaned into kiss. Sobs of pain came through me as the haze disappeared. I remembered his sincere smile, his sea green eyes. The obnoxious laugh that made me smile from ear to ear. Seven months since he left and I still hurt for him. Tears came harder as I realized how weak I truly was.
After the haze left, pain showed through my face, my clothes- my whole appearance. The friends that had stuck with me got the concerned look in their eyes again. Looking the mirror, I could see the dark circles under my eyes. The heartache was present every moment of every day again. Never subsiding, never increasing.
I knew when Chris left I would have to go through the grieving process. It's a way life- whether someone dies or leaves. This was taking so long though. Why couldn't I come out this? I began to wonder if it be worth living.
"Michelle, you ready?" I looked up from the space I was staring out on my bed.
"For what?"
"Your doctors appointment." I nodded. What were we going for this time? It wasn't another monthly medication, we had just gone for that less than three weeks ago.
I put on my shoes without asking any questions. The silence in the car was horrible even when mother turned on the radio.
The doctor's office was white on the inside. There were green chairs arranged around the room. Mom sighned us in and shortly after a nurse called us in.
"What are we here for, Michelle?" the nurse asked polietly.
"She needs new medication." Mom said sharply. I looked up, what was this one for?
"What's it needed for?" the nurse asked.
"Depression."
"And she's already on a medication for anxiety?" Mother nodded. Depressed medication? I wasn't depressed. I was having a hard time getting along that's all. The nurse left and mother stared at me.
"You need help, Michelle. you're not getting better. You haven't been healthy since Chris and you broke up." I flinched at hearing his name. I stared at the floor, not saying a word.
The doctor prescribled me a new medication. I waited for my haze to come back and make this pain subside. Mom stopped at the pharmacy to get the new medication. It was then I decided I wasn't going to take it. No one could make me take it. It was my life, my choice. My choice was not to take it.
That night I ditched both my medications. I threw away one pill from each bottle. I went to bed that night, again in tears, hoping for my haze to return and numb the pain.
In the hallway at school the next morning, I saw Chris. His girlfriend had tears running down her face as he stared angrily at her. Chris looked up and watched as I walked by. I felt the sharpest pull on my heart to go to him, to wrap my arms around him and tell him I love him. But I couldn't. That wasn't what we were anymore. I kept walking as my heart was pulled sharply out of my chest and left it behind on the floor next to Chris.
I got into algebra and took my seat. I felt the pain in my chest even as I worked through my algebra sheet. The pain didn't subside but as I focused on the algebraic problems it got easier to bare for that moment.
When I got home and finished with my homeowork, I played "Last Kiss" on my iPod.
"Now I'll go sit on the floor,
Wearing your clothes,
All that I know is I don't know,
How to be something you miss.
Never thought we'd have a last kiss.
Never imagined we'd end like this.
Your name forever the name on my lips,
Just like our last kiss."
Tears ran down my face like angry rain. The song brought back even more hurt. I was at my lowest; I was ready to text Chris, call Chris, anything to hear his voice. I wished so badly to hear him say my name agian.
Then I was angry. I got up and ripped off the picture of Chris and me on that four-wheeler along with all the other pictures and memories that were hung on that wall. I pulled that pretty heart shaped necklace out of my jewery box and threw it. I threw the vase that had the dead roses in it that he had given me for Valentines Day. I tossed the clothes that still belonged to him about the room.
I was pissed. Chris left me with nothing left of my heart. He took away the person I could count on, he took the person I loved. Chris left me to die. I loved him, cared for him and he left me. What kind of love was that?
That was it. It wasn't love. It hadn't ever been love. I had loved him, but he hadn't ever truly loved me. I gave my everything while he had barely given me half of his selfish heart. We could've had the rest of our lives in front of us-together-if he had given a little more. I went above and beyond for us, for him. I helped him through everything he was put through, made him feel better when I was down. How and when did he help me?
He hadn't. I was hit with memories then. All of the memories of my loving, caring, and helping him. I realized he hadn't ever helped me. He told me to "shut up" when I cried. He had gotten up and walked away from me as if we weren't anything. How could he do that to me? In my eyes, we had everything that everybody dreamed about at that age. Chris obviously had other dreams that I wans't involved in.
I curled up into a ball and cried harder. Crying turned into sobbing as I realized how little Chris had cared for me. That was how I fell asleep that night.
When I woke up the next morning, I wasn't feeling much better. But it was better. Feeling even the smallest bit better was an improvement from the months that had passed. I focused on that the rest of the day. Until it all collapsed in the hall at school when he walked by.
"Michelle, hey," Chris said casually as he began to match my stride.
"Hi," I crocked.
"How've you been?"
Oh, you know. I've been just freakin' great. I cry every night because you're gone and wish you were with me. How the hell do you think I've been? I thought.
"Okay," I said instead.
"That's good."
"What do you want, Chris?" I said sharply stopping where I was. I was annoyed with him. I had been waiting months for him to talk to me again and now he chose to talk to me? Why.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." His words said one thing but his face implied something else. I didn't see concern in those green eyes, I saw something else. Something that I couldn't put a name to.
"Well, I'm fine," I snapped.
"I miss you, Michelle." Regret. That was the emotion in his eyes. He regretted leaving me. My heart stopped. A thousand questions went through my head. Until the most important one stopped them.
"Why? You have a new girlfriend. You don't need me."
"She's not you, Michelle. She doesn't make me feel like you do." Chris' face had regret and sorrow plastered on it. As much I as I love him, I couldn't take him back. He had moved away, left me for dead. That is what we were.
"I'm sorry, Chris," I whispered. I truly was because as I walked away from my first love, I felt my heart break again. I loved him, I cared about, but he wasn't good for me. He would do it agian. As I walked away, I hoped that this would give me the strength to let go of him and move on with my life like I should have months before.
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