Jovie & Bash

Twenty Four || Closure

|CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR|

Waking up from a daydream and walking into reality was something I felt in all the angles of my body and within the deepest parts of my mind. One moment I was riding the highest waves of tangible bliss, the next I was lying curled up in my bed with Luis purring on my chest and my limbs asleep and unwilling.

There was an emptiness, a space I had cut out specifically for Bash, that I had no experience fixing. I wanted him back, I craved the security of having him close, but everything I knew about love and life told me that it was over, that I had ended it, and that I needed to move forward. I had big plans for myself, and my summer distraction turned first real love was not an excuse to lose focus.

I had to repeat these things to myself over and over again to numb the sadness that lingered at the edge of all of my thoughts.

He is not an excuse.

Perhaps I was too young to understand the idea of sacrifice in a love like ours. Perhaps I was too wrapped up in the plans I had made for myself before Bash. I had my life figured out in bullet points and to-do lists. That's how I had grown up. And, when you're about to become independent—when you're about to do life all by yourself, people like me don't take risks.

People like me hold their heads high, smile through the pain, and cast what has been done over our shoulders to try and forget. We build armor and we go off to war.

I packed the things Bash gave me into a box: the hair elastic off his wrist, a stack of books the library was going to get rid of, a Leonard Cohen cassette he insisted I needed in my life, bits of half-written poetry he'd write while I studied, developed photos, and the sticky note that started it all among other things. I packed those things up and pushed it to the back of my closet. Just having them out of sight helped me pull myself back together—something Quinn was watching me struggle with.

"You know," she said the day before graduation as she painted my fingernails a deep blue to match our gowns. "He would take you back in a heartbeat."

"He told me to leave," I replied in a monotone voice while waving a freshly polished set of nails. "And rightfully so. I was so stupid going to his house and thinking we could have a conversation that would end in closure. But, no. Most of it was yelling and crying. Sloppy and unfinished. And I just feel awful about it all the time." I frowned deeply and took the nail polish from her. "I keep myself up at night cringing over the whole thing. I don't think I can ever look him in the eye, again."

Quinn's eyes were soft and sympathetic as she watched me ramble.

"He did something to you," she commented thoughtfully. "Something good. You're different now."

My brow furrowed. "I know. It makes everything harder."

She watched as I painted her nails for a moment and then took a breath. "Don't close back up, again—like before. Don't push people away like you used to."

I kind of smiled at that and looked her in the eye. "After what I did to Meredith? I have to lead by example, Quinn." I laughed softly. "I'm just prioritizing. Let me get settled in my new life outside of Ashwood Creek and I'll start experimenting, again. Who knows." I shrugged.

Quinn snorted. "So full of plans and expectations. You can't let your life fall apart when something doesn't happen the way you're anticipating."

"I know."

"Do you?"

I sighed heavily as I closed the nail polish bottle, using it as an excuse not to look at her.

"There's always Bash," I finally said. "I didn't plan on him and he ended up being everything I didn't know I wanted. So, if something in my life isn't going according to plan, I'll just think of Bash. Accidents, unexpected opportunities, detours...all of those things can be magic, too."