The rooftop

The Past

Well it has been 5 awkward minutes and I'm ready to get up when he suddenly asks: "So, what's your story?".

"I don't have story", I reply.

"Bullshit. Everybody has one. I can tell that yours is interesting. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours", he says and holly hell I want to know what hides behind those blue ocean eyes.

"Fine. But I have rules", I reply, because honestly I can't remember the last time I opened up to someone but I'm not going to let myself get hurt, yet again.

"Shoot"

"You don't tell me your name or other names that I might recognize. We don't exchange socials and after today we won't see eachother ever again"

"Deal", he says and then he starts telling me his story: "So my story begins when I was little. I had this amazing family. Dad had a business which made a lot of money, my mother worked there as a HR Manager and my big brother was the mvp of the basketball team. He is 7 years older than me. We were a happy family, we went on many vacations and to all my brothers games. Everything was perfect until my fathers business started to have some problems and he began to drink. I was 9 when this all started. He began to beat my mother, then my brother and finally me. I don't know why we let him do it but we did. After a year it got worse and so one day my imbecil brother decides to leave us alone. The bastard.", he shrugs. "Anyway, this went for another year and honestly I got used to it. But this one night changed it all. It was a late december tuesday night. My parents came home from a party but something was wrong. My father was more drunk than usual and I could hear them fighting downstairs. My father thought that my mother was cheating on him, which she wasn't, with his partner just because she laughed at some joke that he made. My mother started screaming so I went downstairs to see what is going on. When I got there my heart stopped for a second. He was raping her. I thought about beating him but I was only 11 years old and then I saw the vase on the table next to them. I grabbed it and smashed it against his head. When he looked at me it was like he actually realized what he was doing. He went and packed a bag and left us. That was the last time that I saw him. My mother and I had some trouble after that because we had no money left but luck hit us three years later. She was working as a maid on a late night when she found her boss struggling with some HR paperwork. She helped him and after that she got a job as a Manager. After that they got together and still are, so I guess it all worked out in the end but I'm still struggling with that night."

     He takes a deep breath as if he forgot to breath and I feel my cheek burning. I'm crying and I haven't even realized it. To went through that must scar you for life and for the first time in my life I actually feel like somebody might understant me in this world. Too bad that I'm never going to see him again after this night. "Your turn", he says. Snapping me back to reality.

"Right. So uhm, my story begins since when I was born actually. My sister has CF. It's a lung disease and there's no cure to it. You just kind of wait to die eventually. The life expectancy is bigger now but a simple cold could kill her and that fucking thing is always on my mind because I don't know what I would do without her. Anyway in 2017 a good family friend died because of a tumor and it's like my whole life changed. I watched him turn into a vegtable because of it. He was my best friend and when he died, some part of me died too. I lost my sparkle. O was a happy kid, you know? Didn't care about anything. Lived my best life and then all I was doing was crying in my bed all day. After that I lost most of my friends and began to be a loner. Same year my granpa dies and I can't say that I had an amazing relationship with him but seeing so much death at 13 years old changes you. People started to ask my mother why I wasn't laughing anymore and she gave me so much crap about it. As if it was my fault. I was just a fucking child who lost too people that she loved in the same year. Shame on me. Anyway I had this bad depression for about 3 years and just as things got better, my grandma died. I was lucky because the pandemic came and I was able to deal with it without anyone seeing it but that had an impact on me too. I sterted eating in order to cope so I gained a few pounds and now I'm struggling with body disphormia and an ED. Also, I have no friends", I laugh but actually I want to start crying back in my room.

He looks at me and it's like he's touching my soul. Only now I start to notice how I actually looks like. He's dressed just as basic as me. A Tommy Hilfiger T-Shirt, black jeans and some Air Jordan 1's. He has blue eyes like the ocean, dark messy hair, muscular so he surely does some kind of sport or goes to the gym. I can tell that he's tall eventhough we're sitting. He's 6'3 for sure. And he's so beautiful that my heart hurts. But let's be honest. He could have any girl he wanted so it's better if I don't get myself involved.

"Wow, that's a lot", he says.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry you had to go through that at such a young age", I tell him.

"I'm sorry for you too". Then he turns his face at me and smiles. "Let's take a picture because I want to remember this night." I'm hesitant because he can find out who I am if he has a picture of my face. But I want to remember this night too, so I tell him: "Ok. But we take a picture of our hands." He shrugs but then he nods and gives me his hand.

     My heart begins to race as I touch his hand. He brings them together and lifts them up to the sky so the stars are in background. It's a beautiful picture. I take one as well. And then we just sit there. Hand in hand, waiting in silence and knowing that it's going to end soon.

"Izie!" Mary screams and I get up as electrocuted. She's in the room when I try to get back in but she can't see out because of me. "There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere. We have to go because Ronaldo's parents are coming" she says and leaves. I'm turning around for one last look at the boy I just told my whole life. He looks me straight in the eyes. I can feel my heart breking into pieces and his too as I say: "Goodbye". I turn around and leave without looking back. I can hear him screaming something but I continue to run to the car. I can't fall for him. I can't have my heart broken again. It would be too much. As tears run on my face I get in the taxi, which Mary ordered for us. " Are you ok?", she asks. "Yeah, I hit my knee when I was runing out and it hurts". It's a stupid lie but she's too drunk to realize it and I'm thankfull for that.

     Now I'm sitting in my bed thinking about what happened. I'm still crying and I don't even know why. I remember about the photo I took and I open my phone to look at it. It's beautiful and the stars in the back look amazing. I'm stting it as my wallpaper because I want to remember this night. Was it the right thing to do? What if it would have turned out good? "But, what if you would have gotten your heart broken again?", my stupid brain says. And he's right. I'm starting to gain some confidence and accept the fact that I am better on my own. I don't need anyone to mess with that right now. With that thought I go to sleep, hoping tommorow I'll feel better.