Reclusive- s.r

twenty

With the May deadline rapidly approaching, I feel myself getting more nervous by the minute. Spencer still hasn't made a choice about school, but I know he wants to pick Caltech, and something is stopping him. That something being me.

I already chose my school and submitted my final decision, so now all I have to worry about is graduating and nothing else. Any other things I need to worry about will become a priority in the summer, and then that's it. With my finals coming up, I'm actually able to say that I'll be finished with classes in two more weeks, then after that, all I'll have to do is show up to graduation in June to get my degree, and then off to grad school I go. Well, that's after the girls trip I'd promised Celeste, which she had to pull my leg to get me to agree to. A week in Vegas was what she'd suggested, and I accepted for the sole purpose that once school starts in September, I'm not sure when I'll have much time to see my friends.

My relationship has felt off and there's nothing I can do about it. Spencer knows I'm worried about next year and has been avoiding the conversation expertly, trying to distract me with kisses whenever I bring it up. I can't go on like this because I feel like I'm holding him back, and I love him too much to ever want to do that. I want him to go where he wants without having to worry about what I'll think of it. Whatever he chooses, I'll support him, but I need him to make this choice for himself, and not for me.

If he makes his choice because of me, and then realizes it's the wrong one down the road and resents me for it, I would hate myself, and it would destroy our relationship. I want what's best for him, and he knows this.

But I can't in good conscience be with him knowing that I'm holding him back from his dream. it would be selfish of me, and I'm trying to work on that.

So, as I stand here in front of his door, holding his clothes in my hand, I wonder if I'm making the right choice. Until he can make a choice without my influence, I can't in good conscience be with him. I can't be with him knowing that he might reroute his entire life for me, and that puts a lot of pressure on me, and I'm not sure I could live up to that. I want him to make the choice because he wants to, I shouldn't be a factor in that, and that's what I keep telling myself to rationalize what I'm about to do.

I knock on his door three times, hugging his clothes to my chest to memorize the smell of him on them before I give them back to him. I drop my hands when he opens the door, looking at my serious expression and the clothes in my hands, his jaw clenching as he opens the door and lets me inside.

"Are you okay?" He asks. I don't respond to his question, which should be enough of an answer for him. I'm not okay, because I'm here in his room, and I'm about to break up with him, hurting both of us in the process. But I have faith that if it's meant to work out, that both of us will bounce back eventually, but for now, I'm certain this is the best thing for both of us.

"Come sit down, Spencer. I think we should talk."

"Why are you bringing my clothes back?" He doesn't sit down when I pat the spot beside me, and he's pointing a finger at my hands and I just hold them out to him. "I thought you'd want them back." He shakes his head, and I think he's just now realized why I'm here, and the denial is starting to kick in. "No, why would I want them back? You can keep them."

I fold my lips inward to keep the tears at bay, I haven't even told him yet, but his desperate tone is enough to make my heart break already. "Keep them, please. Don't give them back." I shake my head slowly and place the folded clothes neatly on the end of the bed, and he runs a hand over his face, his expression completely unreadable, but he looks like I've just gutted him.

"I think you should sit down. We really need to talk-"

"No," he shakes his head, cutting me off. "No, we don't need to talk. We're fine, Vee. We're fine."