Separated by a Screen (And Several Hundred Miles)

Chapter Three

Luke and I kept messaging for about five more minutes, and then he had to go (his mom had made dinner for his family). I wondered what time zone he was in - somewhere out west, probably. He told me he'd be back on soon. Me, being the idiot I am, believed him wholeheartedly.

~ ~ ~

I'd rather not admit this, but I'm going to anyways: I waited for him. For almost half an hour, I sat there and stared at the screen waiting for him to answer.

I didn't give up - after a while, I grabbed my book and read. After about an hour of that,
he still hadn't answered, so I went and took a long shower to clear my head.

As the water fell over me, I tried to ignore how naïve I was acting.

He was just being polite - it's not like he's your friend or anything. You were being obnoxious - he probably was creeped out by you.

Why did you talk to him? It was a stupid idea - now you've just gone and made an idiot of yourself in front of a stranger.

I buried my face in my hands, despite the fact that the only person to hide from was myself.

He doesn't even like you, he didn't want to talk to you, he was probably lying about having to go. He probably just didn't want to talk to you anymore.

He wasn't going to talk to me again - I knew that for a fact.

Can't blame him for it.

He doesn't like you.

He hates you.

Just like everyone else.

And there it was. The negative thought that constantly swirled through my brain.

You are such an idiot; as if someone would actually like you.

I hated it. I hated that no matter what, there was this nagging voice in the back of my head, and as soon as I felt okay about myself, it would get louder, yelling at me about how worthless I was.

The worst part?

I believed every word it said.

~ ~ ~

I didn't get out until the water had started to feel less like a hot shower and more like an icy rain. By that point, I had come to terms with the fact that I was an idiot, and Luke didn't want to talk to me.

I was still freaked out by how naïve I had been. Normally, in such circumstances, I knew that it was just someone chatting with me, and that I couldn't expect them to stick around, but this time was different. Like, for some reason, I genuinely had believed that he was a new friend, that it was the start of something. I don't know what, exactly; something meaningful. Something that would maybe make life a little less sucky. But why? Why did I believe all that garbage? Why?