𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔏𝔞𝔲𝔯𝔢𝔫 ✒︎ Camren

Part Two: Coincidences

As though she felt eyes on her, she looked up at me, and sent a soft smile my way.

"Lauren."

I felt my throat tighten, and my heart rate speed up. She always had that effect on me whenever she said my name, it just didn't mean the same thing as it used to anymore. I think right now, I was just afraid of making a fool out of myself in front of her.

"Elena," I managed to let her name roll off my tongue. "Hey."

"Hey," she said. Her smile grew a bit wider. I noticed that she had dyed her hair black, and if it was possible, she had gotten even more beautiful.

Not that it mattered to me, anyway.

"How have you been?" Elena asked, and I wasn't sure if she really wanted to know the answer to that.

Because truth is, I was lonely, but I was also somewhat living my best life at the same time. I'm not too sure if that was possible.

I guess I'm just a paradox.

But I need to stop being a damn paradox. I say I want to be happy but I allow myself to think about the past, think about something and someone that's not going to come back. I say it's time for a change, but I literally don't do anything to make a difference in my life.

It's time to let myself be happy.

It's time to take control of my life. I need to speak and write my path into existence.

It's time I let myself be happy, because God alone knows just how badly I deserve it.

"I'm fine," I said, going with the simplest answer to the word. There's this thing about having an ex, you're never too sure if they really gave a shit to know your answer when they asked about your well-being.

It wasn't the same for me.

"How have you been?" I asked her. "I haven't really seen you around the halls."

I saw some sort of emotion flash in Elena's eyes but she pushed it away. "I've just been really busy with my classes."

I nodded because I knew that was the end of our conversation, because every time we chatted, it always reached this length. So, instead of looking like a complete idiot, I waved at her and walked to a corner of the library, where I could've still seen her discretely.

A few moments of casually glancing up at her, I saw that a guy came and took a seat next to her. The way her face lit up when she saw him, I had remembered that she used to look at me like that.

You ruin your life by choosing the wrong person. Why are we so enamoured with the need to be someone's first, rather than their person?

A love born out of the need to have someone to sleep beside, a love that caters to our need for attention rather than to fill us with passion, is not a love that would inspire you to open your eyes at 7 in the morning ready to take on the world. It's not a love that will give your life a sense of purpose and meaning.

We must strive to find a sort of love that makes us want to become a better person.

I want a kind of intimacy that's rare.