People.

sixteen

We cross the road, and I smile at Rose. We finished our ice cream, I'm having a good day. The sun is slowly setting, casting long shadows over us. Would I dare to ask for more?

I confide in Rose, sharing my intentions to text Maxwell, but her nervous smile makes me hesitate. Was it a foolish idea? Should I keep my thoughts to myself?

- You know... - she says carefully - I didn't want to tell you at first, but when I was in town with Jake, we saw Maxwell. He was walking with some girl, holding hands.

I was angry before, but now fury consumes me. My heart feels like it is being torn in two, and yet, later I realized that this was something I should have expected. If he couldn't offer me honesty, what are we talking about? Did I ever mean anything to him?

- This boy! - I shout, my voice filled with frustration. - Why couldn't he just be honest with me? How long has this been going on? Was this girl there when I sent him that poem with confession? Why didn't he tell me?

- If this girl was already in the picture back then, he's a rat - Rose added, her words dripping with irony. - But not a nice rat, like Ratatouille, more like an old American rat.

I can't help but let out a half-hearted chuckle at her comment, but deep down, the pain cut deep. In the midst of the emotional storm, I try to find solace in prayer, seeking guidance and strength. That's why I handle it quite well and better that I'd have expected of myself.

- I'd throw something, or hit something - I say, though normally I'm calm like a little bird.

- Kick a fence - Rose laughs - Or throw a rock.

She picks up a stone and throws it into the nearby field. I do the same, hoping to release some of the frustration. But the ache in my heart remains.

We go to my room, where we listen to Conan Gray's "Superache" album. These songs helped me go through so many tears - no matter, who caused them, Jake or Maxwell, I could relate to the pain in the lyrics. As the night went on, the moment of parting arrived. Rose had to go home to rest before her 11-hour shift at work the next day.

Seeking comfort, I vented my frustrations to my parents, knowing deep down that it was for the best that I didn't know Maxwell's address. I could only imagine the storm my father would unleash if given the chance.

A few tears escaped, but then I turned to the solace of reading my Bible. The words offered piece of hope, soothing the ache within my heart. With each verse, I found strength, reminding myself that healing would come in due time. The last two words are crucial.

***
I won't ever become a lawyer. But of I did, I can imagine, probably just like half of this generation, saying "Your Honor, I have screenshots".

From what I found it turns out that it's been almost two weeks at least, since something is going on between Maxwell and this girl. I can't find a better word to describe it, I feel betrayed. By Maxwell's dishonesty. How long has it been on reality? I miss him, even just our totally friendly talks and long, long chats. I miss running to grab my phone to share something with him, whatever it was.

After writing and overthinking it I came to realization that it's probably better that way. He put some distance before cutting me off, and before I found out about his girlfriend, so I'm not thrown into a deep water. It's probably better that way, maybe he was not the right one, even for just a friend.

You know what comforts me? God has something better for me, when the season is right. But that's not human timing, it's His timing.

The whole situation hurts me. University application didn't turn out the way I wanted, so after reading my Bible I ended up playing my favorite computer game for, like, three hours. I was in a terrible mood. Mom took out the bikes and we went for ice cream, but after we came back I just went into my "cave" again. It was the evening when I sat down for a Bible study and I actually felt better.

Prayers have power, let me say.

***
People are so complicated.

Why do we keep making excuses for those who hurt us, more or less consciously? It's the good memories that we miss, but this version of this person that we want and adore is never going to happen, sometimes we like the idea, the illusion they've given us, they're bot like that all the time.

Some people are such believable actors.

I handle things better than I expected. I read my Bible, I listen to sad songs, and yes, I sometimes am a bit blue, still. Maxwell still is in my thoughts now and then.

However, on Saturday night it hits the breaking point.

I was praying, and mentioned that I want Max to be happy, with this other girl. I was thinking about him before, I was feeling so empty, but after crying a bit in a prayer it was easier.

I ended up sitting at my bed and praying again, while making braids with my hair. I had nothing but my heart to give. Pouring your feelings helps even if you don't fully understand yourself, and you know what? You don't have to. God knows.

It hit me, that I was literally crying, trying to put some words together and my emotions at that point didn't make sense to me, however, God will meet you there. I had to remember that all we can give is our time and our heart. In that moment my best was to do braids and lift up my messy thoughts and feelings. And that's okay.

I guess I'm in a season of waiting. I feel alone, but in fact, were never alone. I can only say I feel alone in terms of other human beings, especially - my friends and Maxwell. I don't think I'm understood, what now seems a bit more obvious, cause I don't even understand myself at some days. Therefore, the doors has to be shut for the better one to open. Even though I'm hurt, I loose relationships, a bunch of things is changing and I face disappointment, I believe and I should remember one thing: if it's not good, God's not done. Even though the doors are being shut, the right one will open at some point, cause God has something better for me.

However waiting is not fun, y'all have to admit. But be patient. Probably even now you can look back and see how long you've come and how God has written your story.

I met Maxwell around the same month, but year later, comparing to the time I first met Dutsani. In both cases it was February. She was a blessing, he is a lesson.