xxxv. The Bolter runs back

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JULIET SWORE SHE STARED AT the letter for ages, just rereading the same words over and over. Walked loved her? How long ago did he write this? Why didn't he tell her? If she had known, if he had told her, she would've told him she felt the exact same way. She knew she felt the same way, she always has. She's an idiot for not realizing it, but Juliet runs when she gets too comfortable.

       She runs when things get too good, when someone who's too good for her is in her life. She wished she didn't do that, but she couldn't help it. She wasn't good enough, especially not for Walker. She knew that better than anyone, Walker was perfect. Walker was like the human definition of sunshine, when he walked into a room it got brighter. When he laughs, the whole room laughs with him. When he spoke, the whole room went silent and listened. At least, that was Walker to Juliet.

         It was guaranteed that her, the bolter, would run from some as perfect as Walker. So, if she knew she loved him, would she have ever even stayed? She hurt him more than she could've ever imagine, and this letter proved that. She considered crumpling the pages the minute she read the first paragraph, because she couldn't do it. Yet, she didn't, and she sort of regretted that now. She had no idea what to do, and there was no one for her to turn to. How was she supposed to explain she couldn't be with him? They'd just tell her the two were meant to be, and deep down she knew they were, but she couldn't do that to Walker. She couldn't punish him with her presence more than she already had for two years, especially as his girlfriend.

That's why she settled for Dylan in the first place, he was the world's worst boyfriend. If he wasn't trying to make out with her, then he was sitting three feet away from her on his phone. That was the kind of person she felt she deserved. The saying "we accept the love we think we deserve," applied to Juliet more than it probably should. She didn't deserve the love Walker was clearly able to give her, at least that's what she thought.

       She placed the letter on her bed, and just stared at the wall in front of her. It was decorated with photos, some of landscapes, her friends, her family, but mainly Walker. She found he lived in every corner of her room, in one way or another. Like the frame still on her nightstand, which was a last day of filming gift. It was the two of them after filming a scene at the lack, completely soaked. The two wore the brightest smiles, practically the same height, and had their thumbs up. Juliet remembered there being two photos of this moment, the second one was of Walker looking at her while she laughed. How did she not know he loved her then?

        His sweatshirt still sat on the back of her desk chair, his scent barely lingering but the idea of him wearing it at some point still fresh in her mind. Flowers he got for her were still being pressed in at home flower presser, months and months old. The pile of blankets he always got her, every time they went to Target. He was everywhere. That didn't even count the number of memories they had here, and in her LA house. Walker took over every corner of her life, and until things got too real, she didn't run.

        But were they ever not real? No one treats their best friend the way he did, and she knew that, acknowledge it, and let it all happen. She allowed herself to be happy months ago, what changed? It wasn't even that she ended things, he did, but she was the main reason. Was that his way of being romantic— leaving her safe and stranded? She guessed it was poetic, if you love them, let them go. But, she's realizing now that she didn't want to be let go.

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