Lies - Scomiche

2. Leave me again.

After I gained my breath back, I texted Mitch. We agreed on a day and a time to meet, that day is today, and that time is less than 6 hours.

I'm currently on my bed. I skipped work today, I had to, I just knew I would be a miserable ass for a teacher. My nerves smothering my vocal cords, and forming knots in my stomach. My whole body is burning as though I've been thrown in a wild fire. I'm terrified to say the least.

Going to school didn't seem like a perfect idea, I had few more sick days, so I used one.

Every now and then, I find myself questioning if what I did was the right thing to do. If meeting Mitch after this long time is acceptable, and if something good was going to come out of it. Regardless, I can't change much about it, I started the call and proceeded with the messages, no turning back. Besides, I can't go on with my life and forgive myself if there was a tiny glimmer of hope, and I let it slip away. However, I'm growing more anxious as the sky shines brighter.

I keep glancing at the big clock on my wall, as well the one on my wrist, I match their movements with the fast beating of my heart. I feel nauseous, I'm praying I don't throw up on his feet. God, that would be embarrassing, more embarrassing than Mitch knowing I still haven't gotten over him. It's the naked truth, I don't think I ever will.

I hardly had any sleep last night, I'm that type of person, the type that worries too much it drives sleeping insane. At 5 am I gave up, so I decided to cook myself a good breakfast, and a very healthy green smoothy to ease my stress. Glad to announce, it didn't help, not one bit. If anything, my nagging thoughts are occupying a much larger space in my brain.

I'm meeting him at 1:15 pm, that's on his lunch break. It's a big step, I have to live up to it. Mitch and I haven't seen each other since that day. Technically, I've seen him once after that, a week later, but it didn't go as smoothly as I planned. Mitch immediately changed his number afterwards, and went private on all social media. That was enough of a hint to stop talking to him, so I did.

I still asked around about how he was doing though, he seemed to be doing just fine without me. I wish I could say I did the same without him, and I wish it didn't break me to know he did.

Everyone told me I had to move on, newsflash, that's not how the real world works, telling someone they have to move on doesn't speed up their grieving process, or make them heal quicker. Hence, here I am, two and a half years later, having butterflies in my stomach, and rocks in my throat because of Mitch, because I'm seeing him. It feels like its our first date all over again.

Hours passed by very slowly. I took a shower, brushed my teeth at least three times, and wore my favorite sweater. I thought about wearing my real favorite sweater, which is a maroon with black stripes sweater, then I remembered who it was from. He loved stripes on me, and I loved about everything on him. I dropped the idea, I didn't want to push my luck way too hard way too soon.

I styled my hair the best way I could with a shakey hand, I applied some concealer under my eyes to hide my exhaustion, and lack of sleep. I think I look good, or I should say, better. I then plopped on my couch, flipped through the channels on my giant TV and settled for some random morning talk show. I stayed there, intentionally and successfully avoiding my phone and any kind of human contact. When the clock hit 12:30 pm it felt real, it felt almost too real to be true, it got me physically sick.

I'm walking outside my apartment building, I'm meeting him. I don't know how I'm going to do this, but I have to tell him everything I'm feeling. He deserves to know, I deserve to have a closure. Happy or sad. I can't deal with the unknown anymore, I think part of me is not excited about the outcomes either.