Paper Hearts.

cinco

Brad

It was actually rather humorous. That late night fight, she had told me that she hated me, that she loathed me. Yet no less than a week later, several text messages from her bombarded my phone, contradicting her statement. I didn't reply to any of them. At that point, I had had enough. She'd already taken a big tear into the paper and this time, I couldn't fix it. This time, I couldn't glue it back together. This time, I had given up.

At times, I would feel the sudden desire to take it back, the sudden feeling of guilt. Every time I looked at her it would hurt, so in the end I didn't look at her at all. And it was the same for her. I didn't think she would have felt the same way as she made no move to prove it.

After all, a brief reminder of what she had become was enough for me to continue my day. It was her fault.

Although it is true that I regret turning the ones who mattered against her, I won't deny that it did indeed satisfy my hatred and disdain towards her greatly. Blowing out someone else's candle doesn't make yours shine brighter, yes, but blowing out someone else's candle can eliminate potential threats. She was a threat. She was my threat.

She could have been either the best thing that ever happened to me, or the worst, and there was no inbetween.

She broke me, but in a fucked up way, I liked it. I was too enamoured by her and her presence that everything else didn't matter anymore. She was the only thing that mattered.

I didn't think it was fair, she looked like heaven, but she hurt like hell. She was like a beautiful delusion, and a pretty lie.

I guess we really do only accept the love we think we deserve.

"Hey Brad, pass me that yellow life vest over there, would you?" Colin shouts, his hand flailing open in front of me in impatience. I blink. "Something on your mind, Brad?" He asks, following my gaze, but his confused expression only grows wider than before. "Stop staring."

I blush.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, yet the rush of heat building on my cheeks tells him otherwise, "I mean, who's Ash?"

"I didn't say you were staring at Ashley, I said stop staring," he sneers, "and Ash? Man, no one calls her that, she doesn't like it. Hates it with a passion. Says it reminds her of Summer '13 or some shit." Colin says, plopping himself down onto the red kayak and fastening his feet onto the loopholes. I walk over to the side to pick up a paddle. "Pass me a paddle too while you're at it, yeah?"

With a quick flip of my middle finger I turn around to pick a pair of paddles up for our beneficial use. I pass him his paddle and he thanks me, signaling me to fasten myself at the back of our paired kayak. After a short glance back at her, I push, releasing us into the water and into the realms of the mangrove saline waters. I turn back around and she doesn't even look at me, it's as if I meant nothing to her. As if we never had anything special. Like she chose to forget.

I can't forget.

I can never forget.

Tears threaten to escape my coated grey eyes and I blink repeatedly to force it back in. I gulp, and Colin looks at me weirdly. I raise my eyebrow. "What?"

I hadn't realised I was still staring at Ashley.

"Seriously. Quit staring, people are getting suspicious and I'm starting to think you're obsessed." He shakes his head in laughter. "Why're you staring, anyways?" I look away but he continues. "Haven't you seen her around in school? Did you like date her or somethi- oh." Colin mutters. My eyes widen and I scowl as realisation starts to hit him.