I pretended to be happy so well I convinced myself. I would laugh and smile with my friends and cry whenever I was alone. By now, I was 12 years old, I felt really old, and I didn't want to live anymore.
I learned by talking with Ben and Ruby that their relationship was serious when I went to a party at Ruby's house. And I learned something that forced me to notice how I felt about Ben. They recounted the stories of their high school career. They were both graduated and I finally learned it. I learned the age of Ben, and learned the impossibility of my feelings. He was 19; that's a whole seven years older than me. As they told the stories, I held in the urge to cry.
When I finally went home, I cried at the hopelessness of my feelings. I tried to make myself fall out of love, but I'd fallen too deep into the rabbit hole. I realized how I'd fallen in love.
Ben had been nice from the beginning. He was able to have an intelligent conversation with me. He was attractive: his eyes were beautiful, his hair was amazing and incredibly sexy, his face was boyish but also handsome, and his smile lit up my world whenever I was down. Sure, he wasn't muscles, but he wasn't really skinny. He was perfect to me.
After that, seeing Ben and Ruby together was torture. I'd look and pretend to be happy for them. Inside, I was dying because I wanted to be Ruby. It was one of those moments where you want to hate someone's significant other, but can't, because they're an amazing person. Ruby was my friend, and I knew for a fact that she was amazing. She was smart, sexy, funny, and strong.
I knew that because of the world we live in, it would never work out. He was too old for me, he had a girlfriend, and we were only friends. That didn't stop him from being funny when I was down. That didn't stop him from being attractive and smart. That didn't stop me from falling deeply in love to the point I could say I loved him, instead of something weaker, like: I liked him. No, my feelings went too deep. I would yell it into my pillow with tears streaming down my cheeks.
In all books with romance, there's always the factor of it hurts to be without them. I thought that was complete and utter bull; that is, until I fell in love. Some nights I would go home and just collapse on my coach, clutching my heart. It was so painful that he was with someone else, instead of me. But I couldn't wish bad luck on their relationship. I was friends with them and wanted them to be happy. If I couldn't do that as Ben's girlfriend, then I'd do it as an encouraging friend. Even if it hurt. Even if it made me feel that I wasn't good enough for him.
Even if I felt like I would die.
Of course, the fact my family situation wasn't good didn't help. My family situation just made me feel worse about myself. As if I didn't deserve anything good in my life.
Summer break came and went. I was back to dancing and holding on to the last happy thing in my life. Then I learned Ruby and Ben broke up. I was shocked; they seemed so good together. Another thing I was: satisfied. I hated myself for feeling satisfied. They were finally apart and I could tell him how I felt. I held it off and shoved those feelings farther down. Ben was hurting because Ruby and him weren't together and I had the gall to feel satisfied?!
Even though I could confess without any strings, and had many times into my pillow, I didn't do it. Even though it was so easy to say it into my pillow, repeating it like a chant, "I love Ben, I love Ben," bringing it up to talk about was so difficult and I could never get the words out. You'd think it'd be easy, and when telling lovesick friends to just confess, it does seem easy. But it's not. While it's right there on the tip of my tongue, I can't get those three words out to him.
I almost stopped dancing with him whenever I went to parties. The only thing I'd want to do while talking was kiss him. Kiss Ben. I'd look at his lips and just imagine what it'd be like. Just imagine how nice it'd be for him to be my first kiss.
I missed my chance to tell him.
My mother and I went to a party and he parked next to us. I got out of the car and went to say hello when his passenger door flung open, and a girl walked out. Ben and her walked up to me, hand in hand, and he introduced us.
"Samantha," he signaled to the girl, "this is my girlfriend, Reagan."
I smiled and shook her hand. In front of my mother, I acted happy that he introduced us.
"Reagan," he signaled to me," this is my younger friend that I told you about, Samantha."
She smiled back at me.
I wanted to die. She was so beautiful and attractive, not to mention she was his age, I couldn't compare. After getting to know her that night, it really hurt. She could free-style dance like a professional and she was smart. I still am embarrassed about my free-style dancing that I don't do it in front of anyone.
The more we hung out, and the closer we got, the more I wanted to be honest to her. The more I wanted to tell her that I liked her boyfriend.
There was one party night where we were in the hallway next to the studio. We played some music, and they danced for me. Not lap dances, you stupid reader. Single, free-style, amazing, dances. They flowed so well to the music and I couldn't compare. They wanted me to dance and I knew I hated it, so I objected completely and utterly. The closest thing they got was me singing for them. I sing for no one. When I told them that, they were so touched they both hugged me. For the first time in forever, I felt happy about who I was.
Then the day came when Reagan and I were hanging out and talking. I ended up blurting out how I felt about Ben to her. She looked shocked at first, but just smiled in the end.
"I can understand why you'd like Ben."
I cried at her. "I thought you'd be mad that I liked him because he's your boyfriend!"
She shook her head and hugged me. "I can understand. As long as you won't do anything, I honestly support it."
I cried onto her shoulder. "But why?! I could possibly steal him away!"
She pat my head like I was a wounded cat. "You won't because you haven't. The fact you're talking to me makes me happy. It means we're close enough that you'd share something so important with me."
She wasn't far from the truth when she pat my head. I was wounded. I was sad. I was depressed. Reagan encouraged me to tell Ben.
"I can't. I'm afraid."
She smiled and gripped my hand. "We all are."
