“Don’t worry I’m sure you’ll find something to make you mad again,” he said to me. Why did he say it? I was fine! Everything was back to normal… well kind of normal. And after he said that now I’m back to being depressed and… I can’t talk about it.

--

“Thanks a lot Brandon! You’re terrible!” I playfully slapped him on the shoulder.

“What?!” he jumped and laughed.

“Why- How- I can’t tell you!”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because I want you to worry about it all day!” I said with a smile on my face.

“But I won’t worry because I know it’s you and that’s just who you are.”

“Damn you and your smartness.”

“You know you want me,” he pointed to himself and smiled.

“How ‘bout… no.” I turned on my heel and walked away, only to find him right behind me.

“Oh come on Cassidy. What is it?”

And he didn’t know how much I wanted to tell him. I’d been thinking out scenarios all week in my head about how I would tell him. But everyday I would chicken out of doing it because I didn’t want to - couldn’t- get close to him. I just couldn’t. I would’ve been using him. And he didn’t deserve that. I mean, he wasn’t that bad.

“It’s… nothing. Never mind.”

“What? Come on. You can tell me,” he turned me around and put his hands on my shoulders. “You know I’m always there for you.”

I must’ve blushed because he smiled at me then and pulled me into a hug. I don’t know how long we hugged but it was long enough for me to start crying and then telling him… everything. I’d never dreamt that this would be the way I’d tell him.

“Well, it’s just… Lately, after all of this,” I sobbed, “I’m starting to think. These things that I never thought I would think. I’m thinking about how I probably deserve all of this and it’s probably all my fault. And that of course they wouldn’t like me because I’m me and I’m a dense screw-up. And then I start thinking that it would be better if I wasn’t here and that I should just-“

“No,” he stopped me and he looked as though he was going to start crying, “Don’t say it. Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say-“

“Commit Suicide,” I finished speaking just because I needed to get it out. I needed someone to hear, even if they didn’t want to.

He pulled me in a hug again. Although this time, it seemed as though the hug was more for him that for me. It seemed that he was the one who needed comfort, but why? I was the one with the problem. It was me! He shouldn’t be crying! I should. He should be comforting me! Not the other way around!

“Get away from me!” I said and pushed him away. I walked away, well I tried, because at that very moment he came up to me one more time. This time, he had tears in his eyes, but he pulled me into a kiss. It was tender and sweet and he was telling me something through the kiss. He was telling me why he was crying and why he couldn’t bear to hear me say it.

And then he told me in words, “I Love You.”

And that’s all it took.

That’s the only excuse needed for being a “terrible person.”