The narrator's name is never mentioned in this story and I didn't feel like putting it in. If this bothers you, note that her name is Isabelle and be happy. Also, there are characters from my other stories mentioned in this. I apologize for my many blatant errors– its one thirty and I tried to revise it but that didn't go too well. I'm not even sure how I feel about this one...
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"I can't seem to stop doing this to myself." I whispered softly, pulling at the skin on the inside of my wrist. I couldn't bring myself to look at Markus, who was sprawled out on the curb right beside me.

"What?" Markus asked softly, quickly stopping my fingers from digging into my skin too hard. He leaned forward, so his face was taking up my whole vision. I squeezed my eyes shut so that the lids were scrunched and I could almost forget about Markus and his open face and that look of concern he always saved for me.

"Just this. This inability to ever be truly happy. There is always something that keeps me from ever really getting there. I mean, I should be happy, you know? Everything in my life is going just fine. But I'm not. I just, there are all these moments when everyone around me is having such a good time and I know I should be happy too. So I pretend like I am and everyone believes it. I've gotten so good at it too, that sometimes I even convince myself that I am happy." I tried to somehow relate my problem to him in words. They hung stale and thick in the air, and I wished I could take them all back. It was a feeling I couldn't seem to relate in words but was constantly experiencing. Poor little misunderstood girl. That was all I seemed to be relating.

"Were you ever happy with me?" He asked so softly I thought I imagined his words. I opened my eyes to find Markus's brown ones wide and searching my face. All I could do was look back at him, trapped in a middle schoolesque staring contest. I wanted to wrap my arms around him tightly and seep inside of him. Instead I rubbed my thumb softly against his cheek, and thought of an answer. A truthful one.

"Its hard to tell what's real now. God, I feel so stupid. Its like I'm trapped as this little girl who can't get over pretending. Pretending that everything is better than it really is. But you? You are just as flawed in my mind as you are in real life." I leaned towards him and rested my forward against his. I knew in that moment that the warmth of his skin on mine was something I could stay lost in, and the realness of the moment created a golden sensation to erupt somewhere beneath my skin. I kissed the corner of his mouth, just as he opened it to speak.

"Thanks. I suppose you meant that in a reassuring way?" He paused for a moment and brushed a few strands of my brown hair behind my ear. "Sometimes I wonder what's going on in here." He knocked lightly on my head with his fist, obviously referring to my mind. "You sit there with this look on your face as if you were lost inside yourself. I think that you over-think and overanalyze every goddamn moment in your life to a degree that you've become just as much of an observer as a participator in all of this. I've seen you smile, your whole face lighting up with it, and I don't think any Oscar-winning movie star could fake that and I definitely don't think you could." He spoke calmly but I could tell he was mad in the tell tale way his eyes darkened and his mouth just barely stiffened.

I knew that first day when my half brother introduced me to Markus that he was different. He had told me these exaggerated stories of the mishaps of his band and it caused a sound to swell out of me, and it took a few moments for me to realize that it was real laughter. I knew that day that he could cross the barriers I had unconsciously and so intricately constructed. When he asked me out a few months later, I didn't hesitate to say yes, despite my personal no dating rule. I had felt the most painful ache when we had mutually agreed to take a break two weeks ago after a year of being together. It was for the best though. I knew I was capable of completely destroying others, and I knew that was something I would never want to inflict on Markus.

"I'm self-destructive." I whispered quietly, pointing out one of my obvious flaws. I needed to convey to him that this was not worth losing so much to all over again. We were not worth that, even though I wished we could be. I knew in the back of my mind with pulsating clarity that I would ruin it all over again. I fit the cliches to a 't'. I always hurt the ones I love the most.

"I knew that the moment I saw you." He countered back, not backing down. He shifted around so that he was sitting on the street, directly in front of me, so he wouldn't have to continue leaning over me. I pulled him a little closer to me, afraid that a car could come barreling down the road at any moment.

"I'm more hypocritical than anyone you will ever meet."I added, holding up two fingers to remind him that there were two prominent flaws that I had put on the table.

"I think you're more of a pathological liar than a hypocrite." I felt the pressure of his hand on mine, and he forcibly put my two fingers down as if they didn't matter.

"I haven't lied to you in a long time." I admitted, not wanting to deny him some truths. I couldn't help but sigh and I fixed my gaze on a rock on the ground. It was barely visible in the hazy glow of night.

"Now, how am I supposed to believe that? I mean, you are an out-of-the-closet compulsive liar." He whispered as he leaned forward, pressing his face into my neck. I could feel his smile warmly against my skin. I smiled into the darkness, glad that we were still capable of doing this. Being, just being, with each other.

"Well, maybe I'm a recovering pathological liar...But in all seriousness, I really haven't lied to you since that one time." It was the truth. Or, nearly the truth. Laughter rumbled out of Markus and into my neck. He was obviously remembering that last incident where I had let my tongue get the better of me.

"I still haven't forgiven you for that, you know." He added that in the lightly musical tone he always uses when he is amused. I felt the pressure of his large hands on my hips, and he easily lifted me up and into his lap. The strength in his arms came from his constant drumming. He practiced with his band a few times a week, but I also knew that he played his drums when he was stressed or needed a break from the world. I rested my much smaller hands onto his shoulders and smiled up at him. I decided to refrain from commenting on the danger of sitting in the street, silently hoping that we were close enough to the curb to escape danger.

"It really isn't my fault that you're gullible." I tapped out a rhythm on his arm with each word. God, I had always loved his arms. They were long and muscled and he had a black tattoo encircling his right bicep. I wished that it wasn't so cold that he had to wear long sleeves, I had the sudden urge to trace that design like I had so many times before.

"Gullible? More like overly-trusting." He snorted out.

"Same thing. Trusting just sounds better." My fingers pinched his cheeks in the same fashion my step-grandmother pinches my half-brother's cheeks. Half condescending, half affectionate.

"I forgive you, you know?"He whispered to me, his face clear of humor and full of seriousness. He carefully threaded his fingers with my own and squeezed ever so gently.

"How very gracious of you. What exactly am I being forgiven for? Last time I checked, I hadn't done anything terribly wrong." Okay, so it was really more like last time I checked no one knew I had done anything wrong. But that is nearly parallel to the truth, anyway. Besides, Little white lies don't really count.

"Come on, do you really think I couldn't tell? Anyways, I think you just broke your record of truthfulness with me." My hand was dropped the moment he started talking. I hated the disappointment I could so clearly see etched on his face.

"I never intentionally do anything wrong. I'm not trying to hurt anyone. I'm just...I can't help but screw things up for myself and other people don't always...I sometimes forget that what I do affects other people." I tried to explain to him. He really did deserve my honesty, even if I chose to keep certain things to myself. There were definitely things that were better left in the dark.

"You can't keep using that as an excuse. You can't even say what you did out loud. There is probably a multitude of things that you did wrong, and you don't want to guess which one I know in case you're wrong. You don't want to admit to anything that nobody knows about." An edge was creeping into his voice. I suppose there was even a limit of patience for Markus, who seemed to have an endless supply of it. Why was it that I was always testing everyone's limits?

I framed his face with my hands never wanting to forget this moment of being with him. If things were going the way I wanted them to, he would have his hands washed of me by the end of the evening. I watched, for the first time, as his warm and honest eyes closed up on me.

"That is not true. And you sure don't sound very forgiving to me." I responded lightly. I felt the carefully constructed pieces inside of me shatter. I bit my lip to keep from begging him to really see me again. To give me another chance. He watched my movements thoughtfully before biting the part of my lip that wasn't occupied by my own teeth. It was amazing to watch his eyes open up to me again, and even though the rest of his face was grave, I saw a light blazing in his eyes. I realized that it would be a long, long time before I could give this up. I nearly let crazy laughter bubble out of me. I was in near confrontation, something I so feared, and yet I felt something that very nearly resembled content. The first step towards happiness.

"I know, but I do. Forgive you, I mean. Its hard sometimes. Letting all of this go, like it doesn't mean anything. I know you don't mean it, but it still..." I watched as he slowly trailed off. The look on his face was a mixture of confusion and something I couldn't quite place and it contrasted with his normally smirking face. I rubbed two fingers against my lips, a nervous habit I had picked up in the seventh grade. Like everything else, I knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"I'm sorry that I slept with him." I blurted out without even thinking. I took in a quick breath and almost choked on the air. I looked away. I couldn't remember who, but someone had once told me that if you didn't say it out loud than it wasn't true. Now it felt sickeningly real. I forced my gaze on his face, and I stared at his mouth, paralyzed in the shape of a small 'o'. I briefly wondered if that was what he had been referring to. Well, he got his truth regardless.

"You slept with someone else? And here I thought you only stole my lucky drum sticks." He broke the spell. He's always been there, to save me even when he needs it more than I do. I had been on the verge of burying my head in my hands and crying but now the only other option I saw was to laugh, and I did, but I also felt tears falling down my face. I quickly tried to brush them from my cheeks as my body shook with uncontrollable laughter.

"You are so full of shit." I barely was able to snort out. His fingertips came up to stop the tears in their tracks.

"Yeah, but you love me anyways." Markus replied cheekily. He stuck his tongue out at me, and I pretended to grab at it. His tongue quickly disappeared within his mouth and he shook his head at me.

"Well, add that to the list of flaws too." Hey, two can play that game. I leaned farther into his chest. It was getting chilly out and I tried to steal some of the warmth from his body. And then I felt myself go sober. Sometimes, I wish I could just forget. Forget all those things I've done. But they'll always be there, haunting me, reminding me of who I am.

"Hey, you okay?" Markus asked, just a little worried, sensing the sudden change in my mood.

"All these things that I've done and said. They just won't go away." I wish I could tell him that sleeping with Brent had hurt me just as much as it had hurt him. But I knew I could never be the type of person to admit to that. To subject both of us to the pain of acknowledging the repercussions of what I had done.

"Your life isn't as bad as you make it sound, you know. And you could have done a hell of a lot worse than you did. Anyways, what was the last traumatic thing that happened to you?" Hands rubbed up and down my back, trying to sooth the stiffness out of it.

"Well, a couple weeks ago, your mom made me watch The Way We Were with her for the fourth time. She made these nonalcoholic strawberry daiquiris and then insisted that we sing along with the songs. It nearly killed me." I tried to put hilarity back into our conversation, wanted the easiness back. I knew that if we talked about the real stuff, I would admit to things I had left buried in the deep recesses of my mind.

"Quit trying to be funny, I'm serious."

"Trying? I'm fucking hilarious and I don't even have to put any effort into it."

One of Markus's hands came up to rub at his forehead, and I could almost hear him mentally count to ten. He always had to present himself in a calm manner.

"If you can imagine, I was more screwed up before I met you. I was heading on a path straight to hell, and I was not looking back. At least, that's what the family pastor told me. I'm still going that way, you know? But its not as bad as it was." I told him softly, he looked carefully into my eyes. I was finally giving him what he wanted: the truth behind all of this

"I don't know how much you know about my past, but I'm sure people have been more than happy to fill you in on bits and pieces." I paused, waiting for a response. He seemed hesitant at first, but then he nodded. After all, he couldn't be completely deaf. People just can't let things go.

"I have heard a little bit. But you know how people exaggerate. I'm never sure what to believe." He added, sounding almost apologetic.

"You're good friends with my half-brother and all of his friends. They witnessed half of what happened, and what they didn't see happened way before they were around. I'm sure they must have told you something after you moved here, and it was probably all true." I let another pause hang in the air. A part of me needed to hear what he had been told. I looked at him, and silently begged him to reciprocate and tell me the truth as well.

"After Nathan first introduced us he told me not to get mixed up with you. I think he could tell I was interested in you. He said that he may love you unconditionally, but that you were incapable of loving anyone, and you were willing to fuck just about anyone over. That's really all he said about it. I don't know, I guess I started to hear things about you at school. Dan told me not to listen to what people said, because half of the shit they said was made up when it came to you. But he did say you had an interesting way of getting money. I sort of blocked everything else out when we started dating. But I guess people did warn me to stay away from you." He told me, his gaze fixated to the ground. He seemed almost sorry to tell me this, as if we were talking about someone other than me. I took in a calming breath, ready to destroy the last of the glittering image Markus had of me. I knew I had to go way back before I could ever explain the more recent events of my life.

"My mom moved to Chicago right after she graduated from high school. She needed to get away from her past, and she always had dreamed of making it big in Chicago. As what, I'm not really sure. Anyways, she became a waitress at some diner. She met my father there and apparently didn't realize he was married. Or maybe she was so young she thought she could have him despite that. They had an affair that lasted a grand total of two months, and then my father broke it off when he found out his wife, Susan, was pregnant. My mom found out that she was also pregnant a month after they had ended it. She didn't know that much about him it turned out. Just his name. She had no idea where he lived or even worked. She really tried to make it work, though. But after she had me, things went down hill. She lost her job and we were nearly evicted a couple of times. All we had was the welfare money. Then she started to drink. Sometimes its hard to remember everything from back then, but when I was four or so she started to search for my father because she knew she couldn't take care of me anymore. Two years later and the neighbors turned her in for neglect. Then came the foster care. I know that over a course of five years I was in three homes, but they've all blurred together in my mind." I stopped myself. Moments from those days sometimes pop up in my memory. Some really good and others completely horrible.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me anymore if you can't. I don't need to know." Markus offered in a soothing voice. But I needed to tell someone. It was going to rule my life if I didn't let it out to him. I knew, beyond anything else, that he would understand. Or at least try to.

"No, its fine," I continued, trying to remember where I had left off. "Okay, so when I was in foster care, my mom's drinking problem progressed but she kept on looking for my father. Then one day she did. I can only imagine what she looked like, drunk off her face and storming into his law office to announce that he had a daughter. His wife was scandalized, the housewives of the neighborhood ecstatic. They loved nothing more than the story of the picture perfect family having a dirty little secret. I guess my dad was decent enough to pull me out of foster care and into his home, but let me tell you, it was complete and total hell. I had just come from a stable foster home and I had just started to call them 'mom' and 'dad', when I was put into my real father's family. His wife resented me, my father didn't know what to do with me, and I didn't understand why I had a brother the same age as me. My mother disappeared off the face of the earth after that. And then the ball started rolling." I paused again. That was definitely the reader's digest version of the story. There was so much more. So much that didn't need to be said.

"Nathan really cares about you. He's always worrying about you." Markus said into my hair as he pulled me into a hug.

"I know. I care about him. Its just hard sometimes. I hated him when I first met him. He had the perfect childhood, and his parents loved him. He was always nice to me, and that first summer he was always trying to get me to play with him. I punched him in the stomach whenever he bugged me, I showed him how to talk back to authority figures, and I taught him the word 'fuck'. I was a horrible influence. And I liked being in that position. I don't know, I guess we eventually made a truce. Things settled down for awhile, I suppose, but high school changed that." I broke off to kiss Markus long and hard. This was going to be the damning stuff. This is what I never wanted him to believe about me.

"Dan was right when he told you I had an interesting way of getting money. During freshmen year I started to stay out late, just to piss off my father and Susan. Really, I was just hiding out in the backyard and reading. Anyways, they started to punish me by taking away my allowance. Money was a staple thing in my life, but I was fifteen at the time, so I couldn't go out and get a job and there was no way I was going to babysit. I was mad too, and ready to do just about anything. I don't know. I guess it just made sense in my mind.. This guy in my art class had a crush on me, but I didn't want to go out with him." I honestly can no longer breathe. I haven't thought about that guy in a long time. I look up into Markus's eyes, and I know he knows. I can only wonder what he's thinking.

"I told him I would fuck him if he paid me one hundred dollars. You better believe he agreed the second he got over the shock. He promised he wouldn't tell anyone, and I don't think he did. Eventually that money ran out. So I propositioned the guy again, and we had that kind of relationship for awhile. And then I moved on to other people because he started to equate the sex with other feelings or something. I don't know. Anyways, I guess I started, um, to like offer myself to guys for money. But really discreetly. I didn't want Nathan to know, and I sure as hell didn't want my dad or Susan to find out. This vindictive part of me really enjoyed screwing them over behind their backs. I was using this...whatever...to divert myself from my other problems. Then at the end of Sophomore year, um, I sort of, um, like offered Dan. I was so fucking wrapped up in my own life I had lost track of Nathan's. I didn't know they were friends or anything. I guess if I had spent more time at home I would have, but that's irrelevant now. He was the first person to turn me down. Anyways, he felt it was his duty as a friend to tell Nathan. And that's when things got really bad." I buried my face in my hands. God, it was like a sick teen rip off of Pretty Woman, excluding the whole romance thing of course. I wished I could read Markus's mind, to know what he was really thinking. But he didn't say anything. He just gently kissed me on the top of my head. So I continued.

"I have never seen anyone as angry as Nathan did when he confronted me. He didn't understand why I would do something like that. Or why I didn't ask him for help. He threatened to tell someone if I didn't stop, and looking back, I do see that I was fucked up and in need of help. But I didn't then. I did kind of stop, though, because I really didn't want to get in trouble or have people find out. I started to go to parties a lot and experimented a little with drugs, and then finally the rumors started that I would sell myself to anyone with money. Which was partially true. My reputation was for shit by then, and I eventually realized how horribly I had messed up. I tried to change things and make friends and stuff. But I had already turned into really great gossip. I met you about four months after that. There was a lot more there, but it means a whole lot less now. I want you to know that even though all of that is a part of me, I can't imagine being that person ever again." The end. In a very rushed, condensed version. I realize that I've probably sprung too much on Markus. God, what kind of idiot tells there kind of exboyfriend that they used to be a hooker? What kind of teenage girl does that make me? I wished that I had some sand to bury my head in. Or the ability to fix the past.

"You have to let go now." Markus advised softly, lifting my face up so I could look at him. There were no signs of judgement in his face. He leaned down and kissed me softly, and I nearly let myself get lost in it. He was right. He was always right. I needed to let this go or else it would continue to have a hold over my life.

"Its going to be hard." I whispered after breaking the kiss. For both of us. But I kept that to myself. He nodded, and I saw that endless understanding shine through his eyes. "I'll probably slip up again." I added, laying the cards out on the table.

"Maybe, or maybe you won't. Maybe everything will work out fine." I smiled at the strange concept. But I liked it. I wanted it. He'll always be my shining optimist.

"I'm glad you came over and dragged me out here. I admit, I didn't want to see you at first. But Nathan made me." I told Markus as he stood up and offered me a hand. Once I was on my feet, I shook my legs to free them from the prickly feeling that was spreading upwards. Markus looped his arm through mine.

"May I walk you to your door." He offered in a mock gentleman pose. I grinned as we walked the few feet up to my front porch.

"I love you." I told Markus for the first time, and I knew I meant it. He grinned down at me.

"Believe me, I never doubted that. I love you too." He started to kiss every inch of my face and I couldn't keep in my laughter. I was so glad I had found someone like Markus. Someone who knew me, really knew me, and cared about me because of and despite of what he knew. I checked to make sure the curtains were closed before I slid my hand up to Markus's neck and pulled him toward me. I didn't need anyone inside the house to see me shove my tongue down his throat. He pulled back after we both nearly turned blue.

"You're my heart, my island of existence." Markus told me softly.

"That was really beautiful. You better put that into a song. You'll have girls swooning all over you."

"Maybe I will put it into a song. As long as you are one of the swooning girls, I'll be satisfied." We both laughed, but I knew he was serious in some ways when he said that. He lifted his hand up and waved and I waved back. We had decided a long time ago that we both hated goodbyes and we never said our's out loud. I smiled as I let myself into the house.

I knew, this is what happiness had to feel like.