break my heart | e.c

I will not forget all the wonderful things you've done

I remember the day we met.

You came into the store with your mom, telling her what type of guitar you wanted. You had heard from a friend that nylon was better than steel string for a beginner and that was what you wanted. You never failed to mention how it was cheaper in comparison, hoping that could fully convince your mom.

My dad was busy with a costumer and at just 15 he had taught me a lot about the string instrument. He pushed his lips together and nodded towards you, motioning me to go help. You knew I was nervous but I couldn't help it. You were quite the looker and you knew it.

You smiled at me and shook my hand, your beautiful green eyes looking into my dull black ones. Your mom did the same but made you do the talking. I sided with you, telling you that a nylon string guitar would be better for a beginner like you. You gave me a small wink as I told your mom how it was better for you and how cheaper it was. She eventually caved in and you were practically jumping with joy.

I gave you a discount but only because you asked with a blushing face and shy smile. Your mom really appreciated it and never stopped thanking me, not even when we got closer.

After that day, you came almost everyday. Summer vacation had just started and you said you were in need of a new friend. I was almost as crazy as you; almost. You constantly took me to places I had never visited and bought me small things I never asked for. You went overboard when I got sad and distant when I talked to other guys. But you always got over that and eventually kept talking to me.

It was obvious, the changes you were causing in my life. Sure, I was becoming much more outspoken but I was also becoming more self-aware of my appearance. I grew obsessive over how I smelled or whether my hair was frizzy and dull. I began to pick my clothes out a day before just so I'd be more confident around you.

You never failed to compliment me, calling me "bella," as soon as I stepped out the door. Your hand in mine made me feel accomplished and I never wanted to get over that feeling.

Two years later and the feeling never left. In my mind, those feelings would only expand and develop into something deeper but it only got muffled and caged. You loved some other girl while I was still next to you offering everything I had yet you paid no attention. She didn't love you but you insisted. I would constantly get upset because you confused me. You gave me so much of your time but claimed you loved her.

"Where is she?"

You only smiled bitterly and shrugged, "New York, I believe."

I scoffed at your shaky answer, "you sure about that?"

"Yes, she said she'd call me and she did."

You didn't bother to text her first or call constantly but you were always behind me. There wasn't a single morning that I didn't wake up to a text from you. It wasn't a cute text or anything just you saying random things that came to you at 1 in the morning. This was the other way around as well but usually, we both stayed up texting one another until one fell asleep first.

"How's your dad? Raul told me he doesn't want to go back to the shop."

I avoided your eyes and stuck to staring at the younger boys playing their daily soccer. "Yeah, it's whatever."

"No," you groaned as you tugged at my arm for my complete attention. "It's not whatever. Micaela, this is serious please don't brush it off like that and please stop trying to hide it from me. We're best friends, you can tell me everything."

I didn't want to overflow you with my problems, I didn't want you to think that I always needed your help or comfort. When you began talking to her I became somewhat self-conscious of the things I told you. Maybe I said too much, maybe a friend shouldn't say too much, maybe I was acting like a clingy girlfriend (which I wasn't even) and that's why she didn't like me.

"I don't want to bore you," I grumbled, picking at the small bush next to me.

"Nunca, Mica," you reassured me. "Why would you even think that?"

"I don't know... I'm sorry."

You didn't say anything after that and it made me feel terrible, so much that I gave myself a small pinch on my thigh. You were always pretty sensitive which is why you were always careful with your words toward others. Why weren't you sensitive then? What changed?

"Vamos, I want to take you somewhere."

My smile that was quick to plaster on my face faded when I saw her sister walk toward us with a menacing walk. "With Belinda's sister?"

You spotted the girl as well and took my hand. "No. Just you and I."

Before she could even reach us you pulled us away from the noisy barrio and into the busy streets of our town. If there was something I loved about you was how spontaneous you were. I stopped asking where you were taking because I grew used to love the excitement of not knowing where you were taking me.

That day you took me to the grave. I must admit, it made me feel worse. It was the first time you had taken me to a place that ruined my emotions more but I didn't say it. I waited for you to say something as you squeezed my hand and pressed your lips against each other. I followed your eyes to the tomb you were gazing at sadly, why were you so quiet?

OUR BELOVED DAUGHTER

MIKAYLA ROJAS

JUNE 16, 2001 - APR. 4, 2015

Tears fell from your eyes and it pained me in a way I never thought it would. You are such a happy spirit, you were my happy pill, why were you sad?

Things were different that day, you cried as I held you in my arms. You didn't say anything and I didn't bother to ask because I knew you didn't want to talk about it. That night you showed me that I wasn't the only one hiding their pain, I wasn't the only one holding everything in and excluding it from our friendship.

By the end of things, I cried too. I didn't care if we looked pathetic crying into each other, all that mattered is that I had you, you had me. I could feel that you felt that same because once our tears reached its limit you smiled at me.

"Somos un par de tontos," you chuckled weakly but your grip on me still secure.

You took me home but not before buying me a bag of Fritos to make me smile. You kissed my forehead goodbye and stared into my eyes. I could've sworn they looked at me lovingly but I know now that it was all part of my stupid teenage illusion.

"I'll see you tomorrow, ok? We can go see that movie you really wanted to see!"

I puckered my lips and hummed, "you said it, not me. I better see you here tomorrow at 1."

"Deal," you smirked. "Buenas noches, Mica."

There was something behind the way you said my name that night. It was so soft and tender and I want to let you know that it never left my mind.

"Goodnight, Erick."

My voice changed as well but I doubt you noticed. It was when I realized that my feelings weren't going to fade for a long time. I had to accept that I wouldn't have your love that way but there was something, I knew it. It was how you said my name that night. Can you deny it? I know something was happening inside that head of yours. Why don't you just admit?

You seemed so open to people but really you were so closed off, you were so hard to read. I thought I knew you, I thought I could easily read you but I was so wrong about you.