Forgetting Love

5

I sit on the couch trying not to break down. My head rests on my hands and my back is hunched over. My messy hair hangs down but I'm to worried to fix it. I've been sitting here for about five minutes. The first thing I did when I came in here was sit down. Walking made me feel sick.

I try to run numbers through my head to help calm me, but they turn in to a jumbled mess that I can't make sense of. The dull ache that was resting in the back of my head is back in full force and it feels like what I think a tree feels when a woodpecker is pecking at it. I've never had a headache so severe.

The couch beside me sinks down when Ryan sits. He lets out a sigh of exhaustion and worry. I feel awful for bringing him in to this. It's my problem. I'm just so weak that I can't handle issues anymore. How am I going to survive college?

The nice thing about Ryan is that he doesn't pressure you. He just rubs soothing circles on my back while quietly saying, "It'll be ok." I struggle to get a grip on my emotions, but it's a little easier with someone here. Someone that I trust.

"I'm sorry for being such a mess," I mumble.

"Don't be. None of this is your fault. We are all victims," he says soothingly.

At first, I'm really puzzled by what he says. What does he mean by we? It takes me a few moments to understand it, and when I do, I'm more guilty than I have ever felt.

Not once since I've got back have I ever thought about what my family and friend went through while I was gone. It's always been about my problems. No one's told me about what they did while I was gone. Not what they thought. Nothing.

It's like they are all trying to erase the past year if our lives. Like they are trying to forget, just like I am.

I wasn't the only one that was hurt when I was taken. I'm not the only victim. Everyone that knew me was hurt. We were all victims. In fact, that may have been hurt more.

They went through months of not knowing where I was, or if I was even alive. They weren't sure if I was being hurt. They just had to hope that I was alright and that they would see me alive again someday. That I wouldn't be damaged both mentally or physically. That I would still be the same Morgan. I can't even imagine going through that. If Caleb or anyone was ever taken from me, I don't know what I'd do.

I finally get why Ryan was so frustrated about Matt. He spent months worrying about me and blaming himself because he was the reason I was out so early. Then he found me, but I just wasn't the same. I think I hurt him more than I helped him when I went out with him. He finally had me in his arms, in his heart, but I ran away leaving him broken. Then he found out that I found a guy other than him to be my rock. Most importantly, we found each other while I was trapped in that house.

Then I realize something. Ryan was never really mad at me, he felt betrayed. If anything, he was mad at himself for letting me be stolen from him.

"I'm sorry," Is all I say, but I think he knows what I mean.

"It's ok," he says quietly. Once I'm able to regain my composure, I straighten up. Deep breaths help calm me as I look at Ryan. His deep brown eyes pierce in to my blue. He shocks me with the intensity of his gaze. I'm not used to him being so serious. "Was there anything else other than the chocolate?" He asks carefully like he's being cautious to not upset me.

I slowly nod while biting down on my cheek. Another mental breakdown from me will only make things worse. I point to the scattered remains of the flowers I received yesterday. What used to be petals and stems is now strewn across the room in little pieces.

Ryan's eyes widen as if he is finally noticing the tornado damage I have caused. I don't know how he missed the mess. Maybe it's time to get his eyes checked again. "Uh, what were they exactly?" He asks about the disfigured flowers.