Paper Crane Wishes

An Ending (now)

An Ending

(now)

No matter how much they let you down it is impossible to break up with your family. Maybe there will be a time when the rift is so large it seems like you can never go back, but you will. Because if it's just minutes or years later a family always comes back together. That's just what family is -- a group of people with ties so strong nothing can break them. Fight all you want, but know that you're never getting away. So why try?

If you're stuck with these people why not treat them right. Listen to them. Stand up for them. Help them through it all. And know when to step back and let them make their own choices. Even if they never thank you for anything there is never a doubt that they'll appreciate it all in the end.

Like everything else in life it's easier said then done. Days like today make we want to find the universe's strongest pair of scissors and slice right through those ties.

Moments like this make me wish all the eyes on me belonged to strangers with no interest in my answer. That the boy kneeling down in front of me with the little box open in his hand was just playing a joke.

He blinks once. Twice. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. No one is breathing. Even the cat that had been so interested in playing with the ribbons on the presents under the tree is silent with her eyes locked on me.

I knew I should have told him yesterday. Or last week. Because then this moment wouldn't be happening.

"Cameron, I think we need to talk." I try not to focus on the ring or his green adoring eyes. I try not to focus on anything as I look for the words to break his heart. "Alone," I add.

There is a gasp somewhere in the room. "Just say yes, Olivia. Don't be so shy," my mother whispers. At least I think she does.

It's my turn to blink and hope this is just a dream, maybe caused by all the Christmas cookies I've been eating. But that wasn't the case for old Scrooge so it is doubtfully the case for me either.

Cameron's lips stumble a little as he tries to figure out if I've answered or not. When someone gets up the courage to propose in front of a girl's entire family I guess they assume there is no way she can say anything other than yes.

"Come on," I say reaching out to touch his arm. My finger grazes the ring box sending a shiver through me. It takes so much concentration to stand and take each step forward that I'm halfway down the hallway before I realize he is still kneeling in front of the now empty chair.

Maybe I'm a horrible person. For keeping things going when I knew this was all wrong. For breaking up a two year relationship on Christmas because it took a proposal to give me the courage. For embarrassing us all.

And for saying yes when my mother told sixteen-year-old me she found my perfect match and we had a date that Saturday. For not arguing when she took shopping for the perfect first date outfit. For thinking she had to be right when I saw those green eyes for the first time.

I can't turn around and make him move. I should. It might save him some dignity but my eyes and face are burning. The more I blink in hope of it being a dream the more my vision clouds. And as much as it gives everything that dream feeling I knew this nightmare was my own choice. So I left him there looking like an absolute fool and found the closest empty room.

My fingers run over the cool metal of the lock in temptation to turn it and block out any chance of someone barging in. But I can't because I have to deal with this choice. To let him know that things hadn't been like he thought for a very long time. Though I can't say for sure when it was that I started to make the choice we weren't as perfect as everyone has hoped. Or when I finally accepted it, accepted the fact that it wasn't something I could change.

When everyone in your family tells the stories of how they met and married their high school sweethearts anytime the get the chance it's hard not to look forward to the day when your story will join them. And finding out that it never will feels like the universe is taking its scissors and cutting you out of what your entire being knew you were a part of.

"Olivia?" Cameron asks from the other side of the door. "What's wrong?" I watch the doorknob spin. When the door finally cracks open I look down at my feet.

"I'm so sorry," I say when one of his worn shoes pokes into the room. They're nice shoes and I could tell his khaki slacks were new. The sweater too. When he showed up I thought he looked too dressed up, like he was meeting my family for the first time and not like he'd known them long enough that he had almost become a part of us.

Why didn't I think about that earlier when I couldn't stop noticing how much he stood out from the rest of us all dressed so relaxed?

"What did I do? I thought you might want your family to see. You're all so close and --"

"Cameron, that's not it." Another apology is on the tip of my tongue. I don't love him, but that doesn't change the fact that I do care. I care enough to not want to hurt him. "Umm, maybe we should sit."

We both notice where we're at. My baby cousin Hannah's nursery. The only seat is the rocking chair in the corner. I settle onto the pink carpeted floor with my legs criss-cross.

All the times I practiced I didn't exactly image this taking place by a crib surrounded by stuffed animals and diapers. This is what I get for putting things off. We both forget to check for the baby monitor.

Well, I don't really forget so much as I don't want to. The baby monitor should be on right now and if it is no one is going to have the other end in the family room. The baby is in there with all of them. So I ignore the fact that this would be a great time for everything to go wrong and don't check it.

"Cameron, I don't really know how to tell you this, but we need to break up." The words are out of my mouth before he is completely settled. This isn't what I practiced. The idea was to direct us toward a conversation that would result in the mutual agreement of a break up, not to just flat out dump the guy.

Another reason why Olivia Cheyenne Blackwell is a horrible person.

He jumps back up and starts messing with the mobile above the crib with one hand while the other rubs the side of his face. "Break up? But everything was...I proposed too soon. My parents said I was going to scare you away but I thought it was what you wanted."

There it is, my escape. Maybe. Oh I hope so. "Is it what you wanted?" I try to keep my voice soft, concerned. Think sadder, I tell myself. I shift a little and tilt my head to the side so a strand of my blonde hair falls a little over my face. More would if I hadn't forgotten about pulling my hair up.

"I don't know. Everyone else is getting engaged. Everyone around here marries early. And I love you." Now he is rubbing both hands against the brown stumble on his face.

"Most of the couples in school will break up before graduation. Haven't you ever noticed that?" Good going. Just digging the hole deeper.

"If you don't want to get married just say so. We don't have to break up over that, though."

I stand up and wrap my hand around the doorknob. “That's not why. This just doesn't feel right. I'm sorry, but we're over.” With that I open the door, step out, then pull it shut behind me.

On my way back I stop in the bathroom to splash some water over my face. There's a little green paper crane laying on the sink right where I left it. Inside I had written I wish for strength. It wasn't how I was expected the wish to come true but it had.

I set the paper crane free and received enough strength to borrow the universe's biggest pair of scissors and cut that tie.

It's not cutting a family tie but everyone waiting out there for us won't see it the same way. They already had it in their heads that we were married. That we were going to have a happily ever after. Part of me had that in my head too.

So in a way I did break up with family. Or at least someone that was suppose to be family.