Not Quite the Opposites (camren)

28 - The Things We Fight For

Sometimes, the littlest things spark the brightest flames within us, and flames they trigger could mean the lightest feeling in the world or one that consumes you into nothingness. The smallest speck of Camila ignites my soul; her name flashing on my screen or the way she uses "u" in place of "you" among others. No matter how small or insignificant, to me, they somehow end up being magnified.

Camila. I'm in love with a girl called Camila and she's my girlfriend. At least, that's how I still see it.

But I was standing in front of the girl my girlfriend used to love and her name is Janette Zack; spiteful, resentful and maybe lost. She's the girl that might have disintegrated the foundations Camila and I built into nothing but ruins of what have been. But I was not giving up just yet. 

And as for Janette, let's just say she is the hand that tugs at my gut, twists my stomach and squeezes my heart mercilessly. She infuriates me to no end and up until that phone call Camila received, I felt bad for her. 

The day was mockingly bright and beautiful with the whitest and fluffiest clouds; they looked like sweet, sweet cotton candy. I just wanted to yell at the top of my lungs and command the skies to pretend to be gloomy for me. 

"Was it you?" I barked, taking a menacing step towards her and into the threshold and eyes burning holes into her sockets. 

Jette took a corresponding step back but maintained her solid wall despite the uncertainty in her eyes. Crossing her arms, she calmly retorted, "You have to be a little more specific here, Laurie."

That apartment used to cause me so much pain and anxiety, and I could not remember having the courage to just look at it prior to that day. My head was spinning and stirred with so much disdain and hatred that any reservations I had were disregarded.

I huffed in frustration, mouth gaping as I shook my head disbelievingly. The sound of my heart rapidly beating was deafening and I was quickly seeing a dark hue of red. My anger was dangerously close to having complete control over me which would mean restraining my hands, and where and how my they land would be futile. The intensity of the friction of my teeth gritting  strengthened that I swore I could feel enamel cracking. 

"Bitch, I'm not a violent person and I would never even consider hitting anybody but I am two seconds away from knocking the lights out, and I don't mean the bulbs on the ceiling." I warned, scowling at her. Lifting my hand, I extended my index finger, pointing at her. "Do not even try and lie your way out of this shit. Now, did you tell Camila's parents?"

Laughing bitterly, I let my gaze waver which offered Jette some sort of respite. The pain that had been plaguing my heart was showing and my words were not as firm as I intended them to be. Defeated, I dropped my hand limply. 

"Why is it hard for you to let other people be happy?"

"What do you want from me?" Jette mumbled weakly, voice laced with her own agony. A thin layer of moisture concealed her eyes, reflecting the bright light of the midday through the gaped door. Slumping her shoulders and brows furrowing, she brushed the back of her hand against her nose. "We're done, Lauren. Her family ruined us and I watch her let them do it." She jabbed her chest with her index finger. "Do you see her fighting for me? Do you see her standing by me? I've been alone since she turned her back on me. What do you expect me to do?"

I had never seen her so...vulnerable and until that point I would have never thought she had that in her. I never considered her to carry the usual burdens of usual people given that she had always looked so wicked. But then again, maybe wickedness was the best mask for vulnerability but also the most conspicuous yet avoidable ramification of pain and suffering.