My Journal

-Not Okay-

STORY 1

Blinking back tears, I forced myself to turn away. Away from what was once my everything, and now lost in the memories of the past. He isn't good for you, I'd reason. They were just feelings, feelings you've learned to overcome for your benefit, I'd say. You can move on; I'd tell myself with a secret doubt hidden underneath my wall of courage.

"Em--" He began to say, plead strained in his voice. I didn't answer, cutting off his unsure words by turning on my heel and dramatically fleeing his presence. You will be okay. Just don't look back. Despite his protests, calling my name from behind, I kept walking. I wouldn't break just yet, not until I was in the safe confinement of my bedroom. Within my four white walls, I would sit crisscrossed in front of my standing mirror. I would gaze into my reflection and wonder how I could find myself again, find who I was before ever saying hello to him.

I'm not broken. Just bent. And bent could be straightened. I figured I was okay with accepting just that, finding comfort in the "one day I'll be okay" idea.

But for now, as I triumphantly walk further and further away, I relish in the fact that I just had the guts and maturity to know what is best for me. My escape is parked at the front of the school, and I hurriedly climb into the passenger seat. Glancing over to my mom who is now focused on backing out, I have the need to spill my heart out all over the dash to her. But I hold my tongue and watch out the window silently as the building fades and then faded completely, out of the vicinity of him.

Later that night isn't any easier. The feeling of triumph was soon to disappear, leaving me with what I had left of my crumbling emotions. It was the worst kind of ache. The kind that had many mixed feelings about the whole situation, about him. There was a part of me that now belonged to him, and a part of him that I was still grasping onto like it was the only remnant of my heart I had left. How foolish. The battle within my heart and mind intensified every second I sat here in thought. You deserve better. But were you enough for him in the first place? He was an entitled jerk who only cared for himself. But what if you were his soft spot? What if you love him still? What if you ran back into his arms, would he take you? The weight of you love him but he is bad for you dragging me down to depths of my despair.

The internal battle was raging. My heart began to pull ahead, luring over my mind and logic as if in a mocking sense. Only uncertainty was in my eyes, I noticed while peaking into the mirror. My brown hair fell naturally to my shoulders in an uncombed manor, my skin a pinkish hue under my ceiling LED lights, my nose scratchy and dry, and my eyes. I looked like a complete mess, a preview to what I felt in the inside.

But. . .I was managing. I would be okay. Eventually. If I kept telling myself that, forcing myself to believe it, I would be just fine and dandy. 

THE END