justin's point of view:
"Love is a choice," I told Selena. "Not a feeling. It can't keep us together, I don't know why that is so hard for you to understand," The words came out in a rush of anger, yet a confused anger; I wasn't mad at her, I was mad at everything.
That was the last thing I said to her when she called me that morning.
selena's point of view:
"...And I'd like everyone to close their eyes for just a moment." The preacher spoke. "Now, I'd like to see a show of hands. Who here has come across a constant pattern of sin in their life? Whether that be an addiction, dishonesty, anything at all, raise your hand." I peeked out the corner of my eye to see just how many arms were in the air. Nearly all, yet I kept mine down for the sake of my own insecurities.
"Okay, now raise your hand if you are striving to replenish a strained relationship, or simply having a hard time connecting with the ones you love?" I didn't look that time, I was too busy thinking over everything he had just said because it really spoke with me.
"Now, let me branch out for a second, just something I thought I'd share. The longest social experiment to date - it went on for 100 years - was just concluded. The number one reason for happiness in a person's life is how strong their relationships are with the ones around them. So, just wanted to share that, you know, most people they uh, they think it's all about the money or materialistic things that will make you happy. But no, it's our own relationships. So, if you've been feeling unfulfilled, truly think and ask yourself - does this relationship improve my happiness, or is it toxic. And with that, we strive to improve our connection with God. For He is one of the most important in, I believe, all our lives. But yes, pretty interesting, I thought. So call your mom when you get home today, forgive your enemies and cut off negative relationships because, in the end, it will only bring you down."
"Now, let me say one last thing before we have to go today - got a little sidetracked for a moment there - as I was saying, our sins: they are to be forgiven by God, for He granted death upon his own son for the sake of each and every one of us." The speakers sounded. "Jesus, the man who never sinned, died for us so that we could be forgiven."
"Ephesians 2 : 8." He lifted his head in an attempt to connect with the audience. "For it is by grace you have been saved. Through faith—and this from yourselves, it is the gift of God."
"In Jesus' name, we pray, Amen."
As we said our goodbyes, my mother, stepdad and I made our way through the foyer and down to our cars. "Okay I'll see you guys at home, I'm gonna stop by Taylor's," I told them as I slid into the driver's seat.
"Sounds good, honey, tell Taylor hello for me, and if we're not there when you get home, then we're just out shopping for the baby," My mother informed me while setting her purse down in the back of her car which was conveniently parked next to mine. I waved her goodbye and texted Taylor that I would be there soon.
The last parts of the pastor's speech stuck with me as I pulled out of the parking lot of the church.
Are Justin and I's relationship toxic? Even though some people would like to call it that, is it really?
Up until the tour we were only so far away from getting married, but now it's just all fallen apart. That doesn't mean I need to cut it off though, not only could I never imagine doing that, but it just needs some communication and fixing. Cutting off ties would only make it worse; I know that for sure.
Pastor Houston seemed a little delusional anyways. Although, I did like the bible verse he shared. I couldn't remember it exactly, but I got the gist of it. 'By grace through faith' was what I reminisced in my head.
"Received mixed feedback on this track right here," The car radio sounded, but I didn't pay much attention to it until he started playing the song.
"If I was your boyfriend I'd never let you-" I switched stations so fast, that I didn't even mind the Spanish music that was now blasting through the speakers.
I groaned, once again thinking of Justin.
But, it all takes a second. A second to hear a song or see a car or watch any dumbass movie that he would quote all the damn time. A second to catch the breeze blowing across my neck that sends the shivers down that only him and the cold can shake out of me. A second to realize that maybe love actually is a choice, because he chose someone else and I'm still sitting here choosing him.
Justin's POV:
It only takes a second to remember her smile. Her frown, though, was much easier to remember, because that was the only expression on her face recently.
I can't help but blame myself.
Memories flood through my mind as I remember when that frown started becoming more and more frequent.
She was sprawled over my chest at about 10 at night. Her silence turned into a quiet breath, and I ran my thumb down her cheek to wake her. "Babe, it's only 10," I whispered.
No sound came from her lips, but she dug her face deeper into the pocket of my shirt.
Remembering what happened later that night still sent chills through my body.
Her leg flinched when I rested my fingertips between her thighs, and as I began to slip my hand further between, she grabbed me fiercely, moaning in pain.
"What's wrong?" My chest jolted up in fear.
A quiet mumble escaped her mouth as she moved my hand back to her hip.
It wasn't a normal sound, it was really like she was in pain. "Sel," I rested my hand over her thigh again.
"Jay," She groaned, turning over.
I pulled her leg onto me, separating them, which thinking back sounds more aggressive than what it really was.
"What's wrong, Sel? Tell me right now. I'm not playing," I made eye contact with her, and she sighed, looking like she was going to cry. "Baby,"
With the most gentle touch I had in me, I slid my fingers down across the middle of her thong. She winced, and I immediately got up, turning on the light.
She shielded her eyes, turning to her side. But, I had already seen the red slit marks just underneath her underwear at the top of her inner thighs. She cut herself; on purpose.
She cried as she went on to tell me that that was the only place no one would see or know about. Yet, I could see it, I was the only one who would ever see it and she knew that. Because in our world, as long as there are no pictures of it, then it doesn't matter. But I would always have to see it and know that I didn't help her when she took a razor blade to her skin so that maybe the physical pain would mask the emotional pain for just a minute.
And what the fuck are you supposed to do? Cry? Cause that's what we did, but I still found new slits the following week. She was ill, I was ill, all the fucking artists in this industry are ill and no one gives a fuck, yet if they do, they can't help because they're just as fucked up.
