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That’s when he sees me. I know he does, because it feels like the wind has been knocked out of me.
He looks guilty. His eyes are sad.
I turn away, running from the room, before someone sees that I’m fucking crying.
I barely make it into my father’s office down the hall before they’re spilling down my face.
I go to slam the door, but a hand stops it, and my heart stops.
It’s just my brother. Thank fucking God.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asks, rushing over to me.
“It’s not fair!” I cry, or scream, maybe both.
I’m desperately trying to rip my dress off my body.
“What’s not fair, Marley?” Mitch asks, concern written all over his face.
I don’t blame him. I’m sure he thinks I’m crazy.
“Who am I supposed to call? Who do I ask for advice?” I sink down to the floor, putting my face in my hands, sobbing.
“What advice? What do you need?” Mitch rushes over, putting his hand on my shoulder.
My poor brother. He never should have followed me into this room. I’m sure he’s regretting that now.
“How do I get this stain out of my dress? It’s my favorite dress.”
“What stain?” he asks, squatting down next to me.
“The wine on my dress. I spilled it everywhere.”
It feels like I can’t breathe. Maybe I’m dying? I’m not sure. The walls are fucking closing in on me.
“Marley, I don’t know how to help you.” Mitch sighs.
“Just leave me alone, okay? Please,” I tell him, getting up from the floor and running out of the room.
I need air. I’m suffocating. This dress is too tight, the room is too hot. I can’t fucking breathe.
I run through the hallway towards the back door, shoving past anyone in my path.
I’m out in the backyard in less than five minutes, running through the path that leads to the pond in the backyard.
I make it to the edge of the pond before I collapse on the ground, breathing heavily.
Nobody prepares you for the moment that everything you’ve been working towards comes crashing down. They don’t teach you this in school. The biggest problem isn’t that I’ve ruined my life. No, as I’m laying here, in the dark, on the ground, staring at the sky, I’m not even thinking about the fact that life as I know it will never be the same.
All I can think about is that this must be what it feels like to die, because I don’t want to live with this pain.
I’ve lived through loss. I barely survived the death of my sister, but I did. This is a different kind of pain. A betrayal that slices you right through the chest.
This is the pain of losing someone you never really had and having to watch them carry on with their life every day as if they didn’t completely destroy you, taking your fragile heart with them in the process.
He was the first person I ever gave my heart to, and he’s the reason no one will ever get that chance again. I asked him to dance with me in the dark, and he did, but he left me there, alone with all the broken pieces.
I want to fall asleep and never wake up, because at least I can have him in my dreams.
