Over the past few days, I've been heartbroken.
I've done everything I can to avoid Marina. I've blocked her number and I've blocked her Tumblr page. I skip English class just so I can avoid her, much to the dismay of my mom who assumes that I'm acting out each time she gets a call from my school for skipping class.
I feel like I've shut down.
I was so infatuated with her and how she made me feel, that I didn't even realize it was possible for her to hurt me.
That's the thing about falling for someone.
You get caught up in the moment and hardly focus on the future. All you're focused on is your unconditional adoration for this person.
You never think about how they could break your heart. Or how they could make you question every single thing you've ever known.
You're theirs to keep and theirs to lose. Except, you never think about it in that way. You don't want to believe that they could willingly set you loose.
What are you supposed to do when the unimaginable happens?
I wasn't prepared when Marina broke my heart, tearing up each part of me and creating this new person.
The worst thing is that, I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how I should react. My solution so far has been to isolate myself and get away from her.
Is that the right choice? What should I be doing?
It seems that despite my best attempts to erase her from my mind, I still want to go back to her. I can go anywhere I want, but I would still choose to go back to her.
Isn't it strange how the human mind is wired?
Even if someone hurts me, I still try to see the best in them. Marina broke my heart, but I still remember our late night conversations and the way she made me laugh as if nothing else in the world existed. I remember our first date and how we had kissed, awakening this new person inside of me that had been waiting to come out. I remember our nights together, and how at peace I felt while next to her.
I hold on to our sweet memories, rather than just accepting the truth. She's doesn't care about me and I should treat her in such way.
I should be mad. I should be angry.
Both at myself and her.
That's what my head keeps telling me, but it seems as if my heart has chosen a different path.
My soul has consumed this huge glass of guilt and regret. And it seems as if I'm still not done drinking it, because as soon I think it's over, in comes another gulp of shameful emotions.
Each time, I like to recall the times where she had been kind to me. Apart from every single second in our relationship, she had done the most for me.
I would spend the night with her whenever I would get into ridiculous arguments with my dad during his poor moods. She would always split her lunch with me whenever I would forget mine at home. She always made me feel better.
Then, I'm filled with regret. Regret as to why I had to bring it up. I could have approached it in a different way. . . I should have talked about it in a less extreme manner.
Isn't she the one to blame? She couldn't admit that what she did was wrong. Even if her reasons felt right to her, it still hurt.
It hurt so much.
She still strongly believes that what she did was okay and that it was justified despite what it could do to me.
Was it justified?
There comes that wave of guilt again.
She could have told me.
Once she saw that I was too ignorant to figure out the truth, she could have said something. She let the double life go on for so long. She had so many chances and opportunities to just. . . Say it.
But she didn't.
I felt so much guilt toward these two individuals and I nearly let myself go insane with feelings and dreams. She didn't think about how that would affect me. I don't know if she even cared.
If I was telling her it was damaging, why couldn't she just try to see it from my perspective?
I don't think I offered her the same attitude that I wanted her to give me though, and that's also why I hate myself. I wish I could take it all back. I created a mess out of it.
Was that justified?
I try to get out of my thoughts and focus on my task at hand, studying for a history test that I couldn't care less about. Normally, I would shoot Marina a text and ask her a question about it. If I didn't understand, she would send me the answer and save me the time.
It hadn't necessarily saved my grade in history class, but it always made me feel better about myself.
I pull out my textbook from my blue backpack, and start turning to the pages that I can find the answer to one question to. On the way to page, a note slips out.
I grab it, and read it to myself, "hey, Idalia! You're going to do great on this test! Don't lose hope :)"
Underneath of the words is a doodle of a heart and flowers, then signed "Marina."
I'm not sure when she put it in there, but I don't care. I scrunch the paper up, and throw it in the silver trash can closest to me.
Like the clumsy fool I am, it doesn't even make it halfway. I angrily get up from my desk and stomp to the place where the stupid paper is.
I tear it up for good measure and shove the shreds of paper into the trash can.
There.
I'm not going to worry about a note that reminds me of Marina.
I will not fall into that trap.
Not again.
Except before I know it, I'm already crying and my mind is focused on Marina.
What is she doing right now? Does she miss me? Does she still hate me?
My last question is one that I both want and don't want the answer to. It's the kind of answer that can easily break your heart if you're not prepared for it.
I don't think I should hear it.
I try to wipe my tears away immediately, because I don't want to deal with my parents coming in my room and finding me like this.
Except, because I have the worst luck, my mom walks in.
She wants to ask me if I can babysit my brothers again, but she stops when she notices my leftover tears.
"What's wrong?" She questions immediately.
Her protective mom instincts kick in, and she pulls a chair over to sit next to me.
She rests her hand on my knee, and because I don't answer, she adds, "I'm here for you, Idalia. Talk to me. I'm your mom, you used to tell me everything."
That's true, as I hadn't filled her in on my daily life since I was like 12. Then, I started questioning my sexuality and just distanced myself from her.
After I turned 16 and met Sea, that's when I completely pulled away from my mom. I had Marina to talk to and tell everything to.
There I go again, mentioning Marina.
I roll my eyes at the last thought and tell my mom, "I'm just a bit hurt."
She takes a deep breath, and launches into an explanation, "I'm sorry. I've done some thinking too and the way that I've talked about you being gay has been unacceptable. I think that.. I had this idea in mind for you, as to what your future would look like. When you came out, it was just so unexpected. I needed some time to get used to the idea. So, I'm sorry. I accept you and always will. I didn't mean to make you hurt this way."
I sigh, because she's taken my sadness for Marina as a sadness about her not accepting me. As to that topic, it hadn't necessarily bothered me. I was living my own life and didn't need her approval.
It didn't mean that I don't want it though, so I tell her, "thank you. I forgive you."
She had acted ignorantly by constantly telling me that I would get a boyfriend and such, so she better change now that she's said she will. I don't want to hear those comments again.
We hug tightly, and I feel like collapsing in my mom's arms but I pull it together. I can't tell her about the current messy state of my life.
"I really appreciate it, mom," I tell her.
She smiles, and with that, she walks away. She leaves me in an uncomfortable silence that only improves when I think about how she's accepted me.
It worsens when I turn my mind to the disastrous topic of Marina.
I try to clear my head and focus on the textbook at hand.
I'll try to ace this test, no matter what it takes and I don't need Marina in order to do that.