macias home, 8:17 pm
Too much shit has happened today. This whole thing with Elle hit like salt in the wound. After getting in the house, taking a shower, scrolling on Netflix for half an hour trying to find something nice to watch, I diagnosed myself with Hopeless Disease and lay on my bed to reminisce about Elle.
I felt like dipshit trying to keep her out of my life for the past 4 years of college. Why is it that all we think about is the stuff that we don't want to remember?
I thought to myself, I have a life now, I have a career now, and I have parents on my side now! Why would she decide to come back especially when my life was finally piecing together?
I got up to the sound of a notification from my phone that someone had texted me.
*text messages*
roland. hey babyy when are you ready for our date tonite??
macey. shit i totally forgot i'm soo sorry!
roland. that's okay, raincheck?
macey. i'd like that thanks :P
roland. can you still come over tonight tho? ;)
macey. i would, but i'm kind of busy tonight sry :(
roland. ah it's ok
macey. call later?
roland. call it is :)
I lay back on my bed and hated myself for having to feel this way. I've always wished I could express myself but not have to be ashamed of the person looking back at me in the mirror.
It's hilarious how no matter how deeply we try to store away some of our memories, the key to releasing them all out again always bounces back. Elle's my key. And I was her dumb toy.
I sighed, then shut off the TV and lay down. I soon realized that it was a stupid ass idea because within a split second, the memories started kicking in. How has she been? What's happened ever since I left? Does she know I'm doing better now? Did she reunite with Alena? Oh fuck no.
I chuckled. My parents were right before—sometimes I'm just one emotional crybaby who needs a push to start living life again.
It was as if it was a reflex—an attempt to try to let go and forget—that I hastily reached over for my phone.
*text messages*
macey. screw homework. i'll be there in 10 ;)
Forget. That's all I need to do. Forget, distract. Distract, forget. How hard could it be?