First.

And the hurt keeps on

Your dressed and my heart begins to jump because I know that your ready to go. Your ready to leave me and I know you won't look back. Yet, for some reason your still standing by the bed, holding yourself as you scan across the clutter on my bedroom floor. Could you be looking for your backpack? I drop my eyes for a moment to aid your search, and to my surprise I discover it at my feet. I pick it up but I don't tell you that I have it. I watch as your eyes fall on everything in the room except me. My brow furrows and my lips tighten into a hard line. You could leave sooner if you'd only look at me. If you look at me, you'd see that I have what it is your searching for, the last thing still tying you to myself. But you avoid me and I can tell that you have an idea of where it is but in your efforts to steer clear of me, your debating on just leaving the backpack all together.

My patience has reached it's limit and so I shake the backpack, the rattling of it's contents catching your attention, bringing your eyes to meet mine. A lock of your dark hair is stuck on your moistened cheek and naturally I want to reach out and push it to the side but I advise myself against it, recalling the earlier episode of my attempt to comfort you. "This is what your looking for isn't it?" The annoyance in my voice showing more than I had intended. Your weight shifts nervously from one foot to the other as you decide the importance of the backpack and consider fleeing without it.

If I were you I surely would have gone home without the damn thing. After what I'd done, I wouldn't be mad if you cursed me and left. Or maybe I would..because I love you. It's because of the love I have for you that every little thing you do or say so easily excites me. Why'd I'd be upset with you for being angry with me regardless of the fact that I was in the wrong. I don't know how else to express myself than through anger. I'm so selfish..I always have been. And so I ask your forgiveness for so selffishly thinking that it's the love that your heart still harbors that moves your feet towards me, slowly closing the gap between us until you could take back what belongs to you. Otherwise, what made you stay?

Perhaps I'm simply too cocky in my thinking that your too blinded by what you believe is love to leave me. Still such thoughts are quickly rivaled by your actions. You attempt to snatch the bag from my hands and I yank it from your reach. You frown, your lips coming together in a pout and it's all I can do to keep myself from smiling. Is it bad, that even at a time like this, when your so broken and hurt, that I find you adorable? That, for a brief moment, the same chemical reaction that came together and convinced me it was okay to go all the way with you against your will was happening again? That, I, still dealing with the weight of my unforgivable actions, wanted to repeat them again? Is my wanting to pull you into my arms, and kiss those petal like lips and have my fingers curled in your hair, really so much of a sin? Could my longing to fill your head with such bittersweet lies of how it'll be okay, that you can trust me and watch as you unfold and reveal your most secret places to me that sinful of wishes? Would my blaming the hormones of this teenage body I barley understood make things right again? That it wasn't really my fault, that I couldn't really control my self at that time. Might that possibly make you forgive me and give us another try?

"Aaron, just give me my backpack. I want to go home." Your words are cold and the hurt I feel is quickly replaced with anger.

"Cut your crap Ari, your just being a baby about this." I can see the tears building up in your eyes again and I wonder what kind of beast would make a girl cry. It's hard to keep blaming your faults on everything around you when the person your care about the most is crumbling before you because of it. The anger I was feeling melts completely as I attempt to do a 360 on my attitude. "Oh c'mon Ari, I..I didn't mean it like that. I didn't.." My instinct is to reach for you and like a frightened animal you back away. "Don't do this..I won't hurt you..just let me.." those words seemed to have brought to the surface more memories in us both and it becomes obvious this spin of events is just too much. "...Just take your damn backpack then!" I throw it across the room by the door and the way it's contents collided with the wall makes it seem louder than it should have been. Your instantly taken aback by my actions but say nothing as you wait for my next move in fear. Something in me wanted to say sorry but for whatever the reason I couldn't. I turn my back away from you and fold my arms, as I fight the sting building behind my eyes and rock impatiently on my heels.

I listen as your feet back away slowly and go to lift your backpack from the floor. For a moment you don't move and I'm grateful. Maybe what's left of us can still be salvaged. But then I hear the door creak as you open it and leave. With the sound of the front door closing, confirming your departure, my heart drops isntantly. Never have I felt it weigh so heavy that my legs dared to defy me and buckle beneath my weight. My head rest on the edge of my bed, my fist clenching on the sheets that still smell like you. And as if they themselves could carry my message along, I whisper quitley to them, "I'm sorry."