The Space Between a Rock and a Hard Place- 5SOS

Chapter Nine

Shoebox- Mali-Koa

Aviana Ross:

It's hard to be alone.

When you're single and all of your friends are on tour or in another country, you get lonely. I've made some work friends over the last month, but we're not too close, and it's just a job to help me pay the bills and my college tuition when I start in a few months.

What happens when you get lonely? Well, either you get super productive to keep yourself busy, you sit and watch tv for hours on end, or you have an existential crisis and go deep into your memories, remembering every single mistake you made.

Well... I did the latter. Had it literally been months? Yeah. But here I was, sitting on the edge of my bed, recalling the memories of us. Looking at pictures no one ever saw. I was in deep now.

A single tear rolls down my cheek as I flip through my camera roll reminiscing. There's sobbing, and then there's the soft sad cry I currently took the liberty to demonstrate. I had no one to talk to.

The relationship didn't last long. We loved each other, yes, but we didn't take the time for each other to make it work. It fell apart just as easily as it began.

We were young, both stepping into a new and unfamiliar part of life, and so we couldn't have expected it to last.

I broke up with him. Of course, I still miss him every once in a while, but I think it was for the best. And after everything, it would have never worked. Me? Long distance? I could have never managed. I didn't manage.

So instead of prolonging the time in-between our hugs and soft kisses, I cut them off. He understood, agreed even, because we're still friends.

Is it wrong to still have all of these memories? The moments saved from when we were together?

I pull out the box. It's that very specific box where I put the things that happened that I don't want to deal with, or can't bear to look at again. Old friendships that fell apart... and him.

I can't even tell if it makes me happy or sad. I'm smiling through my tears back at our smiles in the polaroids we took. That was a good night. It was the first time we kissed.

I remember him pulling me aside, and he was nervous. But somehow, the moment was right. He placed his hand on the side of my face, then brushed it down to my jawline to tilt my head up slightly... and then he kissed me, my eyes closing as his soft lips met mine for just a moment.

And then we pulled apart, embarrassed. I looked away from him trying to hide my smile, but he was beaming, so in love. We both were.

I pull out the letter he wrote me for my birthday. All the small precious moments were in this box, but outside of these, we were just two teenagers that were too blind to see fate right in front of us.

I read his letter, the words of affirmation that meant everything so long ago.

Why am I doing this to myself? This isn't worth crying over.

I wipe the wet lines off my face and put everything back in the box, shoving it back where it came from. No more of this for today.

I began pacing around the small space I owned, trying to think of something to do.

And as if on cue to save me from my dilemma, my phone rang.

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