The One Who Shot Me - Sequel To Bulletproof Love

Rain

Jessica and I returned to our hotel room about 20 minutes after my reunion with the boys in Pierce the Veil. I recalled that the reason she gave for going back to the hotel with me was that she had been just as tired as I was, but I was beginning to doubt her excuse as I watched her mouth run a mile a minute the whole walk back to the hotel, then back to our room.

"I mean like I've mentioned before, those dudes seemed so cool, I wouldn't mind spending some more time with them, if that's okay with you, of course. But what was up with that guy Mike? That was his name right, Mike? He must be a real ladies' man because..." I was trying to let Jessica's words become background music to the thoughts in my head as we walked into our room, but it was becoming increasingly harder to do so, because it seemed as though her words were becoming increasingly louder and more excited.

Finally, as I was peeling off my black dress, I decided I'd had enough. "Jessica, would you please give it a rest? I. Am. Tired. I don't have the brainpower to keep up with you right now! Chill! Please!"

She looked at me with a startled expression. We held eye contact for a moment after my interjection, but when I looked away to continue undressing, she walked over to my bed and sat down with an understanding sigh. "Okay, Dylan, I get it. You're irritated. I would normally think it's because you're tired, but you've been irritated for the last six months, ever since you and Tony broke up." I looked at her sternly as she said this, trying to tell her to have caution with this topic; she was walking on real thin ice. "And don't look at me like that. You like to walk around here like what happened between you two didn't affect you, and that you're okay, but you're not. We're all here on the other side of the fucking world trying to bring you back to life, but it looks like you just want to stay dead."

I sat for a moment and pondered over her words. Before I met Pierce the Veil, I was always the life of the party. I always wanted to meet new people and put myself out there. I had no shame, and I never cared what other people thought about me, because other people's opinions never mattered to me. I sat and thought that maybe Tony Perry had been my balance. He made me finally think of others, but he never let me lose my flame. I made him more outgoing, so maybe I was his balance as well. Maybe I was the reason he was opening up more, and the reason why he didn't turn his head as much when he smiled.

At this point, I knew a few things. Rain nourishes grass. Without grass, the rain serves no purpose. It causes rivers to flood, and disaster to occur. Without the rain, the grass will dry up, and dried grass serves no purpose; it lays limp and brown.

If I had been the rain, Tony Perry had been the grass. With each other we are balanced, we fit into the greater purpose of things in life and, in the short time that we were together, all things were harmonious. But I, being the rain, fell too loudly to hear what was around me, and I flooded out the grass, leaving none left, and myself without a purpose.

But although I had those thoughts, and although I knew they spoke the truth, I looked up at Jessica with the straightest face I could manage and said, "Maybe I'm better off this way"

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The next morning, the sun danced through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our hotel room with such vigor that it woke me out of my sleep. Immediately, my adrenaline kicked in, because jetlag is alive and well, paired with the fact that in San Diego it was four p.m, and I often came alive during this time. I let my eyes adjust to the light of the sun as it made its way to high sky, and I realized how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten since the day before, and even then it was some quick airport fast food. I laid in bed for about thirty minutes thinking that maybe I should go back to sleep; I doubted anyone else is up, and it was only nine. I could've spared two hours or so for some more rest, but my mind wouldn't stop running.