Dilemma

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Choices are a part of everyday life. Anyone could tell you that. We face choices every day, such as what shoes to wear, what to eat, whether it's best to put something off or not.

Some choices are harder than others. Some choices require no thought at all, and some require long hours, even days of pondering.

My choice was made for me before I knew there was something to choose.

Do I risk my sturdy, healthy relationship with my sister for an ex-abuser or should I allow this guy into my life again, someone who could easily have me pinned under his thumb?

There was no contest, really.

How could I possibly let Bailey hate me? How could I even risk it? I wasn't going to.

Ira would have to go.

It proved more difficult to hate him after the short time I'd warmed up to him. His persistence didn't get on my nerves anymore. It was actually sort of comforting.

What wasn't comforting was the knowledge that I would have to go behind Bailey's back if I wanted to be friends with him. I knew I'd betrayed her before, but I'd needed the tutoring. It was mostly justified. This time it wouldn't be justified at all. So I wouldn't stay around him.

The next question I asked myself was "what do I do about him?"

"Lin. Are you mad at me? You seem mad. I don't want to leave you alone until I made it up to you."

He was so...not annoying, which was a problem. I wanted–no, I needed to hate him so it wouldn't sting when we stopped talking. When I chose Bailey over him once and for all.

It would have been a lot easier to hate him if he wasn't so nice to me. The fact that I wasn't annoyed was more annoying than his badgering.

"Come on, Lin. Did you get in trouble with your sister? I'm sorry we got caught. Will you please talk to me?"

Every word he said wore me down. The more he begged, the less I wanted to hate him.

When did that happen? When had I let him get close to me? I used to hate him more with every breath he took. Even the way he walked was annoying!

Now, it was the opposite. I hated him less with every word, every syllable. I knew the only reason I was ignoring him was Bailey, but I could feel his hurt and it seeped into my bones like a wave of overpowering cold sadness.

"Lin. If you don't start talking, I'll stop. Do you want silence or will you at least tell me to go away?"

I whirled around, excruciatingly silent emotion dripping off me as I gazed at him. I'd like to say that it wasn't longing, but I did have a distinct want to talk to him. He stared back at me, seeming to understand exactly what I was thinking.

I couldn't speak. I wanted to, but I simply couldn't.

"Okay. I'll see you in gym class."

Without another word, he vanished. Poof. Gone.

The hole in my chest felt icy and bare. It was almost as if there was something missing. But then, there was something gone.

No, there wasn't something missing. There was someone missing.

I felt the grief wash over me and drag me with it, under the waves. Waves of despair, loneliness, nothingness. There was nothing down there. Just a void of loss and tears.

When you're drowning, sometimes you don't know it. At first, your tears come cascading down and it feels like they'll never stop or pause to let you take a breath. But they do stop after a while. They stop and it's almost like you've lost something else, like the tears took a piece of you when they left just like everything else. I've always wondered how your own emotions can leave you when you've lost everything else. Slowly, everyone leaves and takes little chunks of yourself with them until all they leave for you is the shell. The lifeless, hollow shell.

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