Stories Based On Taylor Swift Songs

LOVER: 115. Me

115. Me (1/18/21)

Miranda hated the feeling of the rain on her back.

She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. If this was any other night, she would be tucked into bed, dreaming about her boyfriend or missing work or a goblin chasing her. But now, the aforementioned boyfriend had pulled her out in the rain to pick a fight.

Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly the whole story. Her boyfriend, Devon, had dropped her off an hour ago after their date. She had been meaning to go to bed as soon as she got home, but then Devon called and asked if they could talk. He said it was important, but they had been standing out in the rain for ten minutes, and he had yet to say anything important.

"What do you want?" Miranda yelled, crossing her arms against her chest. She should've grabbed a jacket or something. "Why can't we do this inside?"

"I can't do this anymore, Miranda," Devon replied, his eyes thin as slits as he struggled to see his girlfriend through the pouring rain.

"What?" It felt like someone had stabbed her with a sharp dagger. "What did I do?"

"I saw the way you looked at those guys tonight," Devon said. Miranda could tell he was trying to present a clear argument, but his voice betrayed him. It sounded like he was pulling everything out of his ass.

"What guys?" She asked, trying to think about their night at the club. If anything, Devon had been the one talking to other people. "I saw you with those girls at the bar."

She had outnumbered him; she had mentioned a situation and a location. Although she couldn't remember what the girls looked like or what Devon had said or done that could've been viewed as suspicious behavior. Miranda let out a sigh before brushing her sopping wet hair out of her eyes.

"Maybe we're just not meant to be," Devon said. "I think we should take a break."

"That's fine with me, but I didn't do anything wrong." Miranda turned on her heels and returned to the porch, searching for an umbrella. She wasn't even sure if Devon wanted to continue the fight, but she wanted to be prepared. When she turned around, however, she saw Devon climbing into his pickup truck and driving down the road, past the cornfields and street signs.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Miranda screamed into the night sky. That was it? That was the whole conversation? She didn't even get a say, didn't get an opportunity to fight for the relationship. Devon had decided that they were finished.

She threw the umbrella so hard that it knocked over the rocking chair on the porch. Miranda didn't have the energy to fix it. She stormed into the house and slammed the door behind her, chucking off her shoes and making her way upstairs. A part of her hoped she would never see Devon again. But if she was so furious, why was there a lump forming in her throat? And where did the tears in her eyes come from? They must be raindrops, Miranda told herself. The lie couldn't cure the aching in her heart, so she lay on her bed and curled up into a little ball.

A few months had passed since that fight in the rain. Miranda still thought about it every so often. That night, in a fit of rage, she had unfollowed Devon and blocked his number. She didn't want to hear from him ever again. But something he said always managed to stick in the back of her brain like a piece of gum: I think we should take a break. There was a small chance he still wanted her back. Maybe he wanted to take some time for himself and dwell on the relationship.

Miranda didn't want to wait. She had spent years waiting for a guy like Devon, and once they met, she didn't want to leave him. Little did she know he would leave her. The whole situation was frustrating, so Miranda tried not to think about it too often. But despite her best efforts, Devon and her memories of him came sneaking back in sometimes.

It was Saturday night, and Devon was planning on going to the karaoke bar with his friends. He was apprehensive the whole day leading up to the plan; his friends were notorious for canceling last minute, either because they forgot or something else came up. It was five thirty, about two hours before they were going to go out, and Devon hadn't heard anything yet.

Then his phone buzzed. The three guys canceled, claiming that they forgot or made plans already or weren't feeling well. Devon rolled his eyes before assuring the guys over text that everything was fine. He thought about the situation for a moment before deciding he would go to the club by himself; a little self-care time never hurt anyone.

The karaoke bar was crowded, which surprised Devon. He didn't think people liked karaoke anymore. But sure enough, groups of college kids were egging their friends on, forcing them to sing basic songs from the eighties or nineties. One girl ruined an Ariana Grande song by attempting the whistle notes. Devon just drowned it all out by taking another sip of his beer.

It was at that moment that he thought of Miranda, his ex-girlfriend. The relationship had ended poorly, and it was mostly his fault. He was the one who asked to meet in the rain, and the one who started the fight in the first place. Afterwards, he hadn't thought to call Miranda and apologize. He hadn't seen her since their fight. Now, after taking a few months to reflect, Devon realized that Miranda was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She was his person, whether or not he thought so a few months ago.

A small part of him hoped that maybe Miranda would show her face tonight. She couldn't have moved in four months, and if he remembered correctly, the karaoke bar was close to her house.

Devon took another sip of his beer just as the karaoke machine started playing a rendition of "Jolene" by Dolly Parton. The girl's voice wasn't bad, but it wasn't anything spectacular either. Then Devon realized he recognized it. He looked up from the bar and glanced at the stage, where he saw Miranda singing Dolly Parton.

"Devon?" She screamed after the first chorus. She froze on stage, her eyes wide when she found that he was looking at her. Her voice cracked when she asked, "What are you doing here?"

The music kept playing, but Miranda had stopped singing a while ago. She was only focused on Devon now.

Devon watched as Miranda climbed off the stage and met him at the bar. "What are you doing here?" She repeated.

"I was looking for you," Devon said with a smile. "I've been looking for you. It's you, Miranda. It's always been you."

"Me?" She asked, cocking her head to the side in confusion.

"I want to be with you, Miranda." Devon stood up and took her by the hand. "Everything I said that night? I didn't mean it. I was crazy. I...I love you."

Without another word, Miranda kissed him and wrapped him in her arms. It was the only answer he needed.