prologue

I just want to write. But the words don’t run smoothly.

My thoughts threaten to overflow my mind, escaping as tears. Not enough to release my fears.

He plays a game he’ll never win…

Never… It’s not fair… He shouldn’t have to listen to me. He shouldn’t love me. It’s a promise too big for anyone to keep.

Maybe…

I don’t think I could possibly describe it, not perfectly, not like the fairytale it was.

The night was cool, comfortable. The sky was lit with the stars, and a moon. I couldn’t remember what stage it was at, as if it matters. But it always seems to go along with a romantic story when it’s a bright, full moon.

The night was still, no wind moving through the branches. The noise of the crickets filled the silence.

It was just him and me.

Once I arrived though, there was little silence. Gracefully may not quite describe my actions as I climbed on the small play set, but I pride myself in the fact that I do not remember falling onto my face.

“This reminds me of my brother and sister. They used to…”

That’s all I remember of our conversation. To be more accurate, it was me talking to myself while he listened to me. Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward. The crickets would have grown too loud if someone hadn’t been talking.

The words that echoed in both of our head that night, although another night of gossip and girl talk followed in the cabins.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

They still haunt me sometimes.

Eventually that goodnight led to sweet looks and even sweeter kisses in the sunny afternoon.

January, he asked me out.

February, Valentine's Day, to be exact, our first kiss. No. It wasn't me. He's the romantic. I'm the realist.

March… I'd like to forget. His second. No, he'd follow me to Hell and back if I asked it of him. March, I wanted to die and April, May, much the same. They all blurred together into a mush of tears and blood.

I couldn't take it. One day, I was laughing with my friends' teasing. That night, I told him we were done. He called me…6 times that night. I kissed my best friend. He still told me he loved me.

Out of the country, time zones practically opposite. I didn't hear his voice for weeks. Only IM. He still signed off with hearts. I debated what I wanted. I wavered so much; a trembling aspen in a hurricane couldn't compete. My cutting increased. It was as if I could only see inside myself, I could magically come up with a decision. As if that worked.

When he came home… I was away.

I don't remember those 9 days.

I live and breathe those 9 days.

They killed me, but brought me to life. I killed myself with my pain. They brought me back.

I love those girls I met there… I think - and dream - of them often.

But still, often enough to worry some - at least once or twice a week - I still cry myself to sleep.

I'm fine, I'm fine.

Nothing can harm you. His words will warm and calm you… He'll always be there. You know he loves you. It's okay. You're imagining it. Suck it up! Don't cry.

I don't think they get it.

"Annette, I found something of yours." Faith tapped me on the shoulder.

"Wha- Oh. Hello." I knew a stupid smile lit my face; I couldn't bring myself to care. "Thanks, Faith."

She grinned, "No problem. Mark!" She left, seeing her boyfriend walking past.

"Boo." It was Rob. My Robby. With his quirky smile on his face. He outstretched his arms. "Hug?" "Of course." I hugged him until someone bumped into me. Seems that others had places to go too. "Walk with me?" I turned in the direction of my looker.

He frowned, but followed. "Would I say no?"

"Well, you might have somewhere else to go!"

"So?"

"I could walk by myself if I needed to." I was rather proud of my logic. Let's see him come up with an argument to that.

"You don't need to." I rolled my eyes, and jammed my elbow into his side.

He didn't cry out, just gave me an innocent look. Making me feel bad. I fell hook line and sinker. I reached to give him a hug, he looked very pleased. "But I want to walk with you, sweetie."

"I love you Robby."

"I love you too Annette. You might need to hurry up, class starts in five minutes."

"Shit."