Excerpt Eleven

67 2 0
                                    

     They were standing in her driveway in the rain. Her parents weren't home, so it was just them. The rain was pounding the ground as they stood there facing each other. He started talking first. 

"It's not you. You're perfect. That's the problem. I'm not good enough, and I always seem to mess things up. This time, I have something good to lose. Every other time, I've stayed. Sure, I've lost some great people, but it didn't bother me. You're too good to lose because I know that I won't be able to handle not having you in my life."

"If you leave, you'll lose me anyway. If you stay, there's a chance."

"I always mess things up. I'll lose you anyway. If I leave now, I won't be as invested in you, and it won't hurt as much."

"Maybe not for you," she muttered.

"What'd you say?" He squinted through the rain to see her face, and when he saw streaks going down her face, he couldn't tell if it was rain or tears. 

"I said maybe not for you. It might not hurt as bad for you, but it'll still kill me. Whether it's now or later, I'm here. I'm here, I love you, and I don't want you to leave. I think I'm in love with you, to be honest, and it scares me. But I want to stay. I want to be with you. It doesn't matter if we screw it up because, before it goes AWOL, it will be the best thing we've known. Don't make us an almost. I don't want to be your 'what if.'"

"We have to be an almost. You are going to be my 'what if.' I'm not the kind of person that can anything more. I'm sorry." 

     He trudged away, through the rain and mud, already missing her, but not quite regretting things enough to turn around and admit that he truly did want to stay. After he was out of her view, she slumped to the ground. She hit the gravel driveway where they had been standing to talk, and she didn't move, even as the dirt around her turned to mud, her dry clothes turned wet, and her thoughts turned to missing him. She sat there, in the pouring rain, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if she sat outside in the rain, she could drown in something other than her own thoughts. 

Excerpts From Books that I'll Never WriteWhere stories live. Discover now