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I'll Show You
By: FantasyIssue aka Lana
The Wall was a different place after everyone was gone. No one had frequented The Wall as much as the past seniors. Thinking back to everything that had occurred at the wall, I wasn't surprised that kids started to avoid it. It was easy to get into trouble there, and I would know. I'd been caught a few things there when I lived in town.
"Yo, Matt," someone said. Turning my head up, I saw a few guys coming my way. They all had matching black backpacks. I laughed lightly, seeing the entire student population file out of school. It was a Thursday afternoon, late in the fall. The air was crisp and stung the skin slightly with each breeze. Winter was settling in faster than most years. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm waiting for Emma," I replied, still seated on The Wall. The three guys walked up to me, but kept a little distance. They passed knowing glances between themselves before they looked at me. Something was up, and obviously it wasn't a good thing. I wondered faintly if it was something I had already known. I hadn't realized how slowly word traveled between towns. Or towns and cities, I guess I should say. It'd be more appropriate at least.
"Listen, man," George, the one standing off to the left, said. George was on the short side, but he was husky as hell. The dude was a damned good football player, and no one dared to make fun of his height. He was also one of the more quiet of my friends that still attended high school. He spoke only when spoken to, or when forced to. Obviously, what he had to say was important or he would let one of the other two say it.
I waited a while, glancing a few times over their heads. I hadn't seen Emma leave the school.
"Matt, man, she hooked up with another dude," George said. I looked down at him, eyebrows raised. They were treating it as if she'd died. The three looked at me guiltily. I laughed in their faces, doubling over until I fell off of The Wall.
"I think he's gone nuts, man," Dave, the first that had spoken to me, whispered to the rest. After heaving a large sigh, I rolled my shoulders. I'd known that Emma wasn't very trustworthy. She was just a good fling, a rebound girlfriend. Emma was the type of girl guys used to get their minds off of things. I hadn't really cared for her. And to be quite honest, I wasn't exactly faithful to her. And I'm not saying physically faithful. I mean, I wasn't faithful in the sense that I slept with other girls. I wasn't faithful to her in the sense that I didn't exactly connect with just her in an emotional level. In fact, I don't think I ever "connected" with her on that sort of level. I did know the little things. And by little things, I mean only the things she liked in bed. And that was few and far between.
"Guys, I know. I only came back to give her the shit she left at my dorm," I said. I pointed to a small cardboard box resting against The Wall. It was especially small, and it only held a few things. A stick of deodorant, a few photographs, her Latin notebook, and a pair of panties she'd neglected to wear back home.
I think the worst way to break up with someone is through a text message. Or maybe after having sex- like right afterwards. I don't really know the worse way, but I can think of a few ways to break someone's heart in the worst possible way. Maybe if you just blatantly said, "we're done" and walked away. I don't know, but I know that there are some really bad ways.
And then there are the good ways of breaking up. Like, if it were mutual. Or if you talked it out.
All I know, is that I had a break up that was somewhere in between the good and bad ones. It was a mutual parting, but it hurt like a bitch. It hurt more than leaving your hand on the stove, or breaking your femur. It hurt more than tearing your ACL, or losing a loved one. But, then again, maybe it was like losing a loved one. I did love Keith, but after a few months it wasn't that kind of love. I don't even know if I've ever experienced that-kind-of-love before, because to be quite honest I've never looked for it. I've only ever looked for a fling, or a hook up. Usually it was just someone that would talk to me, and listen. I never really put much thought into that-kind-of-love.
Keith didn't really look for that-kind-of-love either. I guess it was fair enough that we weren't looking for the same thing when we became involved. It did hurt though. Even if I wasn't looking for that-kind-of-love, it would have been nice to find it. Keith just didn't believe in it. I don't even know if Keith believes in anything, to be honest.
I'm just glad that I didn't spend two weeks crying over someone that didn't believe in anything, let alone that-kind-of-love. We broke up during a dinner date. It was just us alone, in a semi formal setting.
We were dressed casually and I could feel something looming over us. It was heavy, and it felt like dead weight. Keith seemed a little giddy, and almost eager to leave. I felt the same way. I didn't want to eat that night. I wasn't particularly happy, nor was I very hungry. I had a rough day, and the classes I was taking were ridiculous. If the class size wasn't giant and easy, it was tiny and hard. By the time our food had arrived, I was ready to break it off. I couldn't stand that we didn't talk anymore. Or that when he looked or kissed me it didn't give me butterflies. I didn't like falling into a routine. I wanted each day with Keith to be exciting. Or at least for it to last a little longer. I wasn't ready to let go so soon, but that night I assumed that it would have been better to just rip off the bandage.
"Karen, I think that we should..." Keith began, and then he looked at me from under his eyelashes. His eyes said it all, and I merely nodded. There was an understanding that we shared. If words couldn't be voiced then our eyes said it all. His eyes spoke volumes, and mine merely spoke the truth.
"I think so, too," I said. And just like that we were done. There were no more words, other than your normal friendly banter. We totally avoided the subject. When we left the restaurant Keith went left and I went right.
That was almost two months ago. Now, standing outside on this cold afternoon, I missed the guy. I hadn't spoken to him in almost two weeks. When I'd gotten home, he'd already "ended our relationship" on any internet websites we were on. My name, pictures, anything that had to do with me and him together were gone. That's what hurt. It was like he was ready to just throw me away. And in some ways, I'd fallen for that player in him again. I'd fallen for his cocky attitude and his devilishly good looks. I cried for a good two days, off and on, but afterward there was nothing else. I wasn't exactly hurt because there wasn't much I really needed from him. Keith wasn't the highlight of my day. I didn't wait up during the night for his phone call. I never looked for him on the street. We'd just slowly drifted apart. I was merely a little disoriented. I was thrown off my norm.
Keith had played me, but not hard. He could go around telling the world if he wanted to, but I didn't care. I could tell everyone that he was average, maybe a little more, but still average. If you know what I mean.
Sequel? SHWHAT now?
Alternating point of views in this story. Maybe they're totally different people in college..
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