Living Broken

18

Funerals do suck.
You know, so does this poem.
Apollo is better.  (Maybe).

That was my lame attempt at poetry. Ellie had suggested writing something to help me go through what I've been experiencing. I tried poetry, and decided I'd stick to painting and drawing. 

Ever since that night, things between us had become awkward. Ellie would still come over, but she kept her distance. I didn't blame her though. She probably thought I was still in love with Annabeth, even though she's dead now, and that I was using her as a distraction. I wasn't though. We always had a connection, but I was already getting over Annabeth when everything went down. I liked her, she had this easy going personality and was so kind to everyone, no matter what. I wanted to talk to her about it.

"Let's play a game." I said. Ellie looked up from her book and pushed her glasses up her nose. 

"What kind of game?" 

"The honest game." 

"The honest game. Okay I'll bite." 

"What do you hate about yourself?" I asked. Ellie blinked her eyes slowly. 

"Everything." My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Everything?"

"I hate everything." 

"Why?" I asked. 

"How is this supposed to help you?" She asked, avoiding the question. 

"We'll get to me in a second. Answer the question, it's the game."

"I have my therapist for this. Ugh. Why? Because the way my mother phrased things and who I was friends with in high school. Happy?"

"Wow." I said softly.

"Your turn." 

"My loyalty. And sometimes my godly DNA." Ellie didn't need to ask me why, she already knew. 

"I'd hate that if it were my fatal flaw too." 

"Ellie," I paused, not really knowing what to say. "I wasn't messing with you." Ellie didn't say anything, she just stared at me. 

"I think, I think that some part of me is always going to love her. You know? She was my best friend for five years, my girlfriend for a year, history like that you can't just throw away. But I let her go. That night in the statue, I threw out the locket that had a picture of us. Everything else is in a box somewhere, but I let her go." 

"And then she died." 

"I'm mourning my friend Ellie. And I'm a hundred different ways messed up. That's the prize I won for being a demigod. I'm not messing with you. I like you." 

"You like me?" I nodded. Ellie put her hands to her temple and stared hard at the floor. 

"I, you're serious?" 

"Yes." I said. 

"And this isn't because you're emotionally unstable and need a support beam?" I snorted. 

"Not one hundred percent stable but no not because of that." 

"This is so weird. I mean, up until earlier this week I thought you were fictional." At that, Ellie's face went cherry red with embarrassment.

"What?" I asked.

"I wrote fanfiction about you." She whispered. I laughed. Fanfiction? 

"Don't laugh!" She whined. 

"Sorry." I said reigning in the remnants of my laughter. 

"Percy what time is it?" 

"Eleven pm. Why?" Ellie's eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"My flight back home, it's tomorrow at 6:30 in the morning." 

"Oh shit. Let's get you back to your hotel." I said, standing up.

"But Percy, I like you too."