Hope And Faith ✓

5. Hope

Garrett had gotten back just yesterday and I couldn't find myself being upset that he never told me he was leaving. He spent the entirety of yesterday locking me in the house to tell me how much torture he had gone through with no internet for a week.

In his words; he had to drive to the nearby gas station just to get a bar.

I wasn't sure what I pitied, him or the girls. They'd be surprised at what a goofball he is.

"Anyway," Garrett changed the subject. "I haven't seen prince charming in a while. Did I almost chasing him with a broom do the trick?" He looked almost smug that he managed to get Jacob out of the picture but I just sighed.

"We broke up," I was sure that I had hinted in my tone that I didn't want to talk about it.

Garrett ignored my tone and smirked. "Does he know you've broken up? Or you're just sulking and ignoring him?" He raised an eyebrow looking very amused.

Okay fine, maybe I haven't told him about the break-up. But how could I? Getting the courage to even look at him was not happening anytime soon. And besides, I've ignored his calls, messages and even attempts to get his friends to reach out to me. And few to visit the house luckily. He should know we're over, right?

Speaking about the calls though. No exaggeration intended but I was pretty sure they will be more than two hundred. I had to block his number yesterday at a point.

And do you know that annoying thing? On his Instagram—yes I checked his Instagram— there were more photos of us together than when we were together, he would post pictures there once in a blue moon and very few of them were us.

I mean, he even tagged me in his bio stating I was his girlfriend. It was getting insane, he was showering me with more attention than he usually did, I would not lie, I was flattered.

Was that even a good thing?

A part of me wondered if I would go back to him if he came up with the perfect excuse. I mean, his words wouldn't and can't be changed, they would still sting but if there was a good excuse, would I go back to him?

The notebook that I had written down all the things to do to get my life off everything—him very much included— gave me an answer.

Let us not even talk about me dialling his number at midnight just to have an internal battle whether to call him or not. Unfortunately, I never got the guts to call him even when my conscience told me to.

"I— um, well the thing is. . ." I was suddenly at loss for words, talking to myself in the mirror was much better than telling anyone about the break-up.

Honestly, no one knew about it. Especially not the girls.

I knew why I didn't tell them though. I knew that the moment they knew that Jacob, one of the most popular guys in town, and I broke up they wouldn't want to be friends with me.

I guess I like things better when they're fake.

Garrett simply nodded. "I get it, it's still a sore subject. Just promise me you'll shoot me a message when you need to get the body buried."

I smiled at that.

••

After we had gotten home the first thing I had done was change out of my sandals to slippers and slip out of my sundress to replace it with a camisole and joggers, I told Garrett I would be at the park and left.

As I walked down the street I noticed it was getting crowded. The café wasn't as busy as usual, not that I minded though. It would make the queue shorter to get another cup of coffee.

Visiting the park once every day seemed like a constant to me.

I mean it was good exercise. And maybe I was also trying to prove I hadn't made up Faith from my imagination.

If I had then I knew I would need help, lots of ice cream, two boxes of tissues and a month for me to recover.

I had only met her twice and in those two encounters, she was unique. She was the epitome of confidence, angelic beauty and for a while, I thought perfection.

I knew it was stupid of me to think she was perfect at the first glance but now I knew she was not it gave me different thoughts about what happened.

Like maybe she moved away or her parents owned a circus and she was going to help them in their act or even better she was snuggling up with her boyfriend and chilling with Netflix and a cute little kitten.

I suddenly grew sour at the topic. And doubt had set in soon. I began wondering if it was me. Had I bugged her that much for her to leave without a goodbye? Or had she teamed up with Jacob to make me realise that I was not only oblivious but foolish and trusted everyone with all my heart?

That wasn't bad, was it?

At this point, I almost wanted to cry. She was wrong, she had been wrong, so so wrong.

Crying was not a sign of weakness, it was one of strength. If you were strong enough to shed tears than turn the other way, become a lunatic or a drug dealer just because you were broken by someone, what made crying a weakness?

The fact that she was willing to hold back all her tears in the belief that crying made you weak was sad. If I could find her again I'd change that, that mindset of hers. I'd change it with everything in me and I wouldn't give up on her, ever.

Maybe crying over Jacob too wasn't a weakness or not seeing Mom in so long wasn't a weakness too. Or even being lonely and almost friendless wasn't one either.

Before I knew it I had reached the park.

If Faith was real I knew something. I wouldn't give up on her and one day I'll make her cry all her feelings out.

As I thought about it a mop of blonde hair caught my eye from the corner of the park.

Sitting on a bench crossed legged, licking a lollipop was none other than Faith Jennings.

In the flesh.