The Mute Fighter | 3

032

032 - Goodbye

Nine months later

Another fight, another screaming match. Another night of sleeping alone because the other left during the heat of the moment. Tears spilled down my cheeks like a waterfall.

The slam of the apartment door made me jump as I sat on the floor. I pulled my knees up to my chin and bawled my heart out.

It was another misunderstanding.

I had gotten into a college for law students. I wanted to become a lawyer, my brother had gotten into some messy things during his UFC career and it had inspired me to seek out the opportunity.

I hadn't expected to get in. I hadn't expected to be sent the welcome letter, I hadn't expected Mitch to open my letter without me in the room.

I had no chance to stop him.

He read everything, it was a nasty fight. He was rising in his UFC career, he was welcomed into the world and it was taking off fast.

The law school was at Harvard law schoolJacksonville was 12 hours away.

Mitch hadn't let me explain at all and went off on me, he never laid a hand on me, but he was vocal. Too vocal.

He had just broken up with me in the heat of the moment. The argument had gone too far, he went off on me, he accused me of nasty things, things I never could make myself do to him, to us.

Yet he questioned everything he knew about me.

I was done, I saw no way of fixing this mess. He'd broken up with me. Maybe he didn't mean to do it, but I refused to become a couple that broke up everytime we fought and then made up. I would never allow us to become that.

What we had was too special, I couldn't let it end like that. So, I began packing my things, I removed every trace of me ever living in this apartment with him.

It was our home, I loved it. I truly did, which is why I left a single picture of him and I, holding the key to the apartment as Oliver and Fran had taken a picture of us.

I got a last minute flight and called my mom, she had moved to New York two months ago. I told her I was coming to New York and the news of the law school application.

Francesca had taken me to the airport. "Are you sure this is what you want?" Fran asked for the millionth time, with tears in her eyes.

"No, this is not what I want. But it's what I have to do, I'm 18. I can't let what we have turn this dark. I can't be in it" I told her, my voice cracked as I felt my heart breaking.

"I understand. I've seen what his career has done to you two-to you. You need to do your own thing, while you're still young and in the unknown" Fran said and nodded her head, but her tears didn't stop flowing.

"Take care of him, okay? Make sure he doesn't turn back to his old ways, be there for him. He's gonna need it" I told her and Fran nodded her head, vowing to do so.

"I'm not gonna tell either of you where I'm going, for obvious reasons. Nobody is the bad guy if I never told any of you" I say and she nods.

"Okay, take care of yourself. I love you, please stay safe" Francesca said and pulled me into a tight hug. "I love you too, tell West I love him, tell everyone. I'm gonna miss you all" I whispered to her.

She nodded and attempted to silence her sobs, but they escaped. "I need to go, Fran. I need to go now, otherwise I'm not gonna go" I whispered to her.

"Go" Fran said and nodded encouragingly to me, I gave her a sad smile and exited her car. I got my luggage and the rest I would get sent over.

"Goodbye" I called out to her as she watched me go into the airport. She smiled at me through the tears and waved me away.

I hadn't even gotten the chance to tell Mitch that the law school I had gotten into had a special education program in Harvard Law School. I got a special offer, it would only take three years.

I hadn't gotten the chance to tell him anything at all and it was the end of us.

I pulled my luggage behind me as I entered the security and headed to the gate. I waited for an hour before I boarded the plane.

The flight was hours and hours long, I slept the whole way, I had cried so much that I had fallen asleep, I felt like a zombie. I didn't feel whole.

I needed him, but he had pushed me away once again. There was nothing to do for now. It was done, we were done. Apparently that was how it was supposed to be.

My mother picked me up at the airport when we landed and I checked my luggage out, she had engulfed me in a bone crushing hug. I had broken down in tears, yet I had hid what had happened from her.

I didn't want her to dislike Mitch for how it happened, she loved him like a son and I wanted that to remain that way. I needed it to.

So, I didn't tell her anything.

A month later, I got a dorm and started at Harvard. It had sucked, but I was thriving. I made a few friends, but most of the students were cocky rich people.

I didn't get too close with anyone, I knew my heart belonged to my friends in Jacksonville. I never doubted that. I loved them with all of my heart.

I didn't have room for any more people.

Mitch had tried to call me around the time I had landed in my mothers apartment when she had picked me up, but I ignored his call.

He had stopped calling after the fifth try. I didn't hear from him, it stung, that he hadn't tried more after he had ended us. So, after a night of drinking a bottle of vodka, I had blocked his number, to tell myself that was why he wasn't calling.

Though I knew in my heart what the real reason was.

He had given up as well. Maybe he had seen what I was trying to do, I wanted the memories we had to remain untouched, I didn't want them tinted with anger, misunderstandings, fights and rage.

I wanted what we had to remain as beautiful and inspiring as it had been, if I left it that way, it would remain that way. At least that's how I felt.

I could only imagine Mitch thinking the same, seeing how far this had gone. It wasn't supposed to, ever. We were supposed to be together, for the rest of my life I'd hoped.

He was my first boyfriend and I'd prayed he would've been my last, but the world did not see it go that way.

It was clear, we never stood a chance. I understood, I did. But it didn't ease the heartburn, not one inch. My heart was broken beyond my belief of how broken it could be.

I found myself blocking Mitch everywhere, I didn't want to see his face. I didn't want to see the news of him, I didn't want to see him succeeding in life while mine was a mess.

It was my own problem, I'd realized that a month ago, when he'd walked out that door and left us. I needed to let go. I needed to let him go.