When Bad Girls Fall In Love

Chapter 18 --- Believe

We all classify people as good, bad, nice, mean, stupid, or however we chose to label others. We do it sometimes without even realizing that we're doing it, but things usually aren't so black and white.

There are shades of gray that we tend to look past before making our judgment of other people. Everyone has a story: the mean people, the nice people, the really weird people. They all have stories too. Sometimes we wonder why a person is the way they are.

"I am sorry for it, Meg." He answered quietly, letting me go and stepping back from me and I realize how long I was holding my breath

A tear fell from my eyes as I realize that the suffocating silence between us meant otherwise

"You're just like the rest of them"

Why does love has to be a strange thing. It demands constant attention, care and devotion. It is hard to get, harder to keep and easy to wither and die.

"How could you possibly know that when we barely even started anything?"

I felt tears prickling my eyes. I looked away from him as my fingers unconsciously touched my lips.

"Because look at the world," I answered. "Everyone's judging me left and right. And it takes people about a day before they forget who really Meg Toledo is. They will always get down to point that just because I am the fruit of my own father's infidelity, it makes me a slut my self. I mean come on Patrick—" I said throwing my hands in the air "The world is basically shoving it in our faces that reality sucks. I mean, look at you!"

I instantly regretted saying it once the words left my mouth.

"What do you mean me?"

I sighed. I couldn't help but continue, if only to show him why I couldn't risk loving him.

"Don't you get it? I slept with your Dad, Patrick! I slept with him and even thought of running away with him! You should hate me .. Hate me for almost ruining your family and hate me for being a whore!"

"Why are you always saying that I have to hate you?"

The idea of letting him, or anyone, inside the safe little bubble I'd constructed for myself since I'd been on my own was terrifying. I'd promised myself when I left home that I wouldn't waste my chance to become my own person, that I wouldn't let other people's opinions and expectations shape my own choices any longer.

Then I'd gathered my sense of independence around myself like a protective cloak and gone out in the world, hacking a path for myself as I went. I couldn't throw it away now.

"I smoke, drink, fuck, bite my nails, can't cook and don't return missed phone calls. I might as well add you to my list of bad habits. I'm a tragic little chain smoking whore, Pat. Why are you trying to love me?" I said as I crossed my arms. I realized I was acting like a petulant child, but I couldn't stop.

You know how some people say it happened so fast they didn't see it coming? For me, it all happened in slow motion and whatever instinctive training was still buried somewhere in the back of my mind surfaced with a vengeance.