Chapter 2

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At the age of sixteen I had never had a boyfriend before. Sure, there were minor crushes besides Chace, but nothing had ever come out of it. It never mattered much to me before and I was content with my life as it was. Life wasn’t perfect, but I was able to live and not just survive. These days, I’m barely surviving. All I can think about is leaving so that I can have a new start and avoid my heart from ever being broken again. It’s so weird and funny in a humourless way actually if you think about it. Chace broke my heart, but I never even dated him. I didn’t have to and it was obvious I was never going to. Since I never ever had a boyfriend in my miserable life, I don’t know how it feels to have someone- a guy you’re hopelessly in love with- care about you. I don’t know what it feels like to have the arms of a guy around you in a non-friendly manner or how it feels to be kissed. I often look at couples and envy them because I also want someone to look at me with love and adoration. It might not be permanent, but I just want to know how it feels. I just want to be loved. I want to know that to someone I actually mean something. I want to be lit with fuzzy warm feelings whenever I think about the guy that- as much as I love him- loves me too. It sucks to know that I might not ever have this. One thing is for sure, I’m never telling a guy I like him ever again. I have taken a big enough risk to cover for the rest of my petty existence. I’m not going to allow myself to be hurt again, no way. I’m done with this imperfect idea of love. What’s the point of it anyway? Does such a thing as love actually exist or is it just some mystery emotion that people call love? Love makes you weak, and when you’re weak you get hurt, and when you hurt, you cry, and when you cry… then you’re pretty much just like me. Crying has become my night time lullaby. It’s what I’ve fallen asleep to each night, and let me tell you, it’s not pleasant at all. I frequently have to turn my pillow around because my tears make it soggy.

I don’t think Chace will ever realise how much he’s hurt me. I’m not sad because he’s not with me, I’m rather upset that he never saw my worth.

Oh well… Life goes on right?

Wrong.

It’s not that simple. You can lie to everyone and say it’s okay, but you can’t lie to yourself. You can’t fool yourself. I should know.

Friday afternoon I went to my friend, Jessie’s house for a sleepover. Jessie is one of my closest friends. She’s very opinionated and crazy in her own way. Jessie really stands up for what she believes in and she absolutely hates Chace. In her words he’s an “arrogant bastard”.

I was always the one to defend him and say that in the inside he’s a really nice person, but lately I haven’t been defending him much. He’s got his own back. Of course my feelings for him haven’t gone away in a night. I wouldn’t have ever fallen in love with him if I didn’t believe that there was a grain of good in him.

Jessie was convinced that I was on the verge of having a breakdown and because of that she wanted me under her watchful eyes.

That weekend was the first time I went to Jessie’s house. It wasn’t too big or too small, but it had a pool and that was good enough. The door was opened by her mother and after exchanging a few pleasantries with both her parents, I followed Jessie to her bedroom. It was small, yet neat and comfy. Her walls were filled with posters of celebrities, and when I say celebrities, I mean Justin Bieber. Jessie is the only one of my friends that is a Justin Bieber freak.

“You can just put your bags down in here.” Jessie said indicating to a space next to her cupboard. “My mother is nearly done with supper and then we can go inside and eat.”

I nodded. “I love your house. You have a piano and guitar inside, that’s so awesome.”

“Yeah we can play on the instruments later if you want.”

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