You Should Have Called

Heartless Evidence

After a long day of school I ran upstairs swung my door open and jumped on my bed, crying and crawling together, screaming into the inner emptiness of my pillow. Almost choked by my own tears and yet it was part of my everyday life. Earlier that day I had signs of actual happiness, motivation to live and enjoy the schooldays. I opened the school doors and stood in the middle of the hallway. Staring faces. Whispers and laughter. Yet I simply smiled. I went straight to my locker and picked up my math book. It was way heavier than it looked like and carrying it on my right underarm all the way to the second floor made me feel super uncomfortable as if I wasn't strong enough to carry one book.

On my way to the room I noticed that the door was already shut so I ran forward to it and gently knocked twice. The door flew open and an old, high voice started talking to me: "Oh my dear I think you got the wrong room, you do not look like a pro at speaking French, do you?"

I stood there, paralysed, not knowing what to say so I simply shook my head and stood in front of the door until the old woman shut it politely. One second later I heard that class talking about me and laughing.

However, I did not care. Not even a bit. I was okay with all of that.

I was okay with the sadness and anger growing in me every time I am here. I was always able to handle that.

The only time when my emotions overwhelm me is when I see that one specific person. This person is male, tall and super attractive but there is a story behind everything isn't it? So there is a story behind this person, too. A bad one. Like all my stories are.

It all started last summer during vacation. I was having fun with some friends when I got a message from a person I have never actually expected to get a message from. My crush. Although it was kind of awkward because I obviously seemed like a little fangirl, crushing, it was a moment that I will never forget. After that my crush and I kept a conversation over months and we were texting each other nearly every day, sending good morning and good night texts over and over again. We always found a topic to talk about and we never got bored of it.

We kind of became friends and this led to the point when we were actually making an arrangement. At my house. 3 pm. I remember it as if it was yesterday.

The door bell rang and my heart was beating faster than ever.

I pushed the door handle and there was him. Standing right in front of me. Keeping eye contact and then smiling. I loved when he did that because it gave me hope. Hope in every part of my life. In his eyes I was able to see the world and his smile made me feel safe.

After a simple "hey" he came in and we went upstairs to my room. He smiled and sat down on my bed. "I really like your room" he said silently and I answered with a small "Thank you" but it actually meant a lot more to me than a simple thank you. My room is my own space that I created the way I feel comfortable in and by that he not only walked into my room but straight into my heart.

I sat next to him and we talked for a while. We laughed.

Then we decided to watch a movie. He chose a really good one but I was not able to concentrate on it. We were laying next to each other without body contact until he put his arm around me and I rested my head on his chest. And at that moment I knew he was it. I felt so many emotions coming up in me and the way he made me feel was extraordinary.

I felt comfortable and protected. For that one moment I forgot everything around me.

Suddenly he took off his arm and leaned over me. "I wasn't sure if we are just going to chill or if more is going to happen but now I know it" he said whispering and started kissing me.

And I let him. I let him kiss me, touch me and love me. After a while we stopped and we did not know how to handle it so we simply ignored each other until we went out because of his dad picking him up. We talked a bit and he said that he had no feelings during our makeout-session. No feelings. "But you haven't had any feelings too, right?". "Yeah, uhm of course not" I said while my inner self was tearing apart and all I wanted to do is cry and scream.

I faked a smile and we hugged. As soon as the car drove around the curve, I turned around and tried to walk up the stairs to my house but my legs got heavier with every step I made and I couldn't stop the tears from falling down. I felt a deep burn in my heart and every tear that dripped down my face felt like a drop of hot water burning my cheeks up to the flesh. I sat onto a step and hide my face in my legs, my arms wrapped around them. Then I started shaking and couldn't prevent a scream to come out. Hearing a voice from inside of the house I quickly gathered myself, stood up and wiped away my tears with the sleeve of my sweater. I climbed up the last steps and knocked on the door. My mother turned around and walked away right after opening the door which is good on the one hand because she did not see me in this situation, weak, but on the other hand I would love to cry out my heart on somebody's shoulder.

Full of disappointment and pain I ran upstairs into my room and closed the door gently behind me.

As soon as I pressed the door against the doorframe I leaned my head onto the cold wood and slowly slid onto the ground, staring straight into emptiness. I can not tell for how long I have been sitting there but for me it felt like an eternity. The point is that in this moment I actually had no real emotions nor any motion. I felt lost in my own body and I was not able to get out any word or sound or breathe. Even my eyes stood the same the whole time, some blinking in between but no other motion noticeable. My lungs filled with fresh air every other second but I felt as if I was dead. Slowly gathering myself I saw that it was already 10pm which meant that I had to go to bed just now to be able to stand up the next day and go to work. However I was not able to close my eyes and simply stared at the roof until I heard my silly alarm sound going off in the morning. Well that is the story that got me to the person I am right now. Not caring, cold, but not fearless.

Yet there is a thing that scares me: HIM. The point of it all is that I still have feelings for him, after all that happened and after all the pain I felt. I hate myself for still thinking that he is a good person. I try to avoid him in school as much as possible but in physics it was not possible to escape from his lovely face staring at me from the side. Ever since we were good friends he sat next to me and since physics is the only class we have together, it was our only opportunity to sit next to each other. And we enjoyed it. We had fun. We laughed. Until that one Monday after that one weekend. I was already sitting in the room, on the place I was usually sitting, kind of happy to be able to be so close to him, kind of angry because of what he did to me. After I packed out my stuff I looked up and caught eye contact with him. I did not say anything, neither did he. He put his bag next to his chair and sat down on my right, not even caring a bit about my existence.

This went on for weeks until we had to do a group work and we finally talked to each other. Ever since that day we have been talking, not much, just a simple "hi" here and there but at least we actually were talking. I was a dumb naive girl who at first really thought that there is a possibility for him wanting to become friends again or even for him crawling back to me, apologising for what he did... but he never did.