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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1984345-Fight-for-Me-or-Let-Me-Go
by EmmaG
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1984345
About a girl who is hurting and the one person she wants to understand doesn't.
         The feeling of wet sand between my toes as I walk down the beach seems to relax me. The rain falls down gracefully around and on me. I would think that this would calm me, relax my nerves, settle my stomach, and slow the pace of my heart, yet it doesn't. I can't help but question everything. And by everything, I mean almost everything in my life right now. I could walk for hours and be content with this feeling... Just being able to feel something besides joy is nice sometimes. There are those times where you just want to be mad, or sad, or upset; this is one of those moments. But I also want to be that brillant person that knows exactly how to solve my problem. I've thought of this before and no solution has presented itself that would solve everything. Sometimes, I wish I could just run away from everything, just walk out of my house and start running until I can't anymore. So, that what I do; on this beach, I just start running.

         With my shoes in hand, I just start sprinting down the beach through the rain. I'm not particularly going anywhere except forward; I'm not sure where it will take me but I'm still going. The rain hits my face and after a while, I realize I have been crying while running. I keep running as I wipe the tears from my face. Eventually, I start to slow down and soon after that I have lost the will to run any further. I sit down in the sand with my shoes beside me and watch the ocean, wind, and rain. I can hear someone walking down the beach toward me, but I don't turn to see who it is. I keep my gaze on the ocean and wipe the rain and tears from my face. Someone sits down beside me, and I can't help but to look over.

         It's him... He is the reason I'm here, the reason why I'm crying, the reason I'm sitting on the beach in the rain. I don't want him. It would so much easier if he didn't care about me, if he left me alone forever, but no. He has to be sweet and caring... He has to show me why I love him so much, even though I wish I didn't love him.

         He puts his arm around me and I lean into him naturally; even though I want to push him away and run, I can't fight myself on this. I'm too tired to fight. He holds me and we sit in the rain for a long time without either of us saying anything. Finally he asks, "Can I take you inside, please? I don't want you getting sick..."

         I roll my eyes and wipe away a few tears. I nod slightly and begin to stand. Yet he swoops me up in his arms and carries me back to my house. I lean my head against his chest and when we reach the house, I open the door for us. He gently places me on the couch and leaves the room, only to come back with two towels, one for me and one for him. I take the towel from him and wrap myself in it. He wraps the towel around himself then leaves the room again. And I'm tempted to run again because this time he is gone much longer. I end up standing up and staring out the glass back door. This seems to concern him when he comes back into the room.

         "Uh... Would you do me a favor and not look like you're about to run again?"

         I shake my head and look back at him. His face is riddled with concern and sadness. I sigh and walk back over to the couch to sit.

         "Thank you," he says under his breath. He walks over to me and hands me a mug of tea. I take it and stare at the dark liquid.

         The warmth from my tea heats up my numb hands but not from the chill of this cold sadness inside me. I wish and pray that somehow this tea would warm those spaces, bringing those pieces of me back to life or filling that eerie, uncomfortable feeling seeping through each fiber of my being. Although I know it wouldn't satisfy that feeling, I still drink it slowly, trying to prolong the feeling of warmth in that small mug.

         He sighs beside me and my focus shifts from my tea to him. Then I look away from him because it's too painful to even see him. He's the reason I'm hurting... Well, one of the reasons. The other reason isn't here right now.

I can feel him gazing at me but I don't dare look over at him. "Will you please tell me what's wrong?" he pleads with me and I can practically hear the pain in his voice, pain that I caused. I scoff at the idea of me causing him pain. He seems so immune to me that I ddn't think that was possible honestly.

"Why do you even care?" I say bitterly before taking a sip of my tea; it's almost gone sadly.

"Because you're my best friend and I care about you."

"Could have fooled me," I say under breath.

He stays silent, staring at me intently until I finally look over at him. "Is that really what you believe? That I don't care about you? That I don't love you?"

"Yes," I say fiercely. "You hurt me. You don't even realize it and that makes it worse. You say you care about me, but you do not understand me. You don't include me. You leave me out and I know that not all of those are you forgetting to tell me, so don't you dare pull that card on me." I turn away looking into the last remains of my tea. "You don't even understand me now so how I am to expect you to understand what I'm saying? You respect me enough to tell me you're dating her again, but don't respect me enough to say that you'll be out for the day and that you probably won't text me? That doesn't make any sense."

I stand up quickly and the towel falls off my shoulder. I don't feel cold anymore due to the anger boiling inside me; I can't feel anything but the warmth from my anger. I shake my head viciously, put my cup of tea down, and begin to walk out of the house again.

He stands up and grabs my wrist. "Don't leave again."

I face him with a glare. "Oh, so now you want to fight for me?" I could feel my heart slowling be crushed somewhere beneath that anger as it slowly began to slip away. "You're only fighting because you don't like to lose things." I yank my wrist from his fingers and walk out the back door, slamming it as I leave. The anger had completely melted away and I only feel the aching in my heart. Tears spring up in my eyes and I don't try to stop them.

A second later I hear it open.

I turn around and walk backwards, letting the tears flow down my face. "You either fight to keep me, or you let me go." I slow down to a stop and stare at him through my tears. The pain is too great as I fall to my knees sobbing. "I'm not putting up with this anymore. I can't put up with this anymore." A sob wreaks through me, shaking my entire body. "I can't do this anymore! I wish I could put up with it longer but I can't! It hurts too much now; I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I know in my head and in my heart that he didn't understand what was going on or how he had hurt me; this fact creates another wave of sobbing, causing my body to tremble again.

My brain starts shutting off from fear of what he will decide; will he fight or let me go? A large part of me thinks that he will let me go... And a part of me wants that. But more than that, I want him to fight... But I don't know if he will. He doesn't understand me... I don't understand him. He isn't going to fix the problem even if I explain to him... like I have already explained to him. He doesn't get it. Probably never will.



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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1984345-Fight-for-Me-or-Let-Me-Go