So in love (Sweeran)

Waiting

While I was embracing Claire, I realized I had no idea what I would do or how I felt about everything she had said. I seemed to have entered a state of mental numbness, my eyes losing focus.

You have to do what is right. You can’t tell him anything in this new situation.

"You have to put some ice in this" Claire said, holding my injured hand after wiping some tears from her own face.

"I know" I simply said. We were silent for a long period of time, and I remained still, holding in all the feelings that were to come, about to explode. I was almost sure if I opened my mouth to speak again I would burst into tears. But I had to do it.

"Go… G-go inside. Tell him everything" I mumbled, looking down.

"I don’t think he’ll listen-" Why are you here, then?

I automatically regretted the words in my thoughts, expiring, angry at myself. Stop it. She’s not guilty of anything.

I finally cleared my throat, saying:

”He will. Just go” Go before I cry in front of you and ruin everything. ”I’ll just stay here. I don’t wanna intrude” I completed after seeing hesitation in her expression.

She looked at me for a split second and then she was out of the car, walking towards the house with a confidence that I knew was temporary.

After I saw her slamming his house’s door, I couldn’t stop myself from burying my head in my hands, letting the tears come out, bringing what remained of mascara in my eyes to my cheeks. I couldn’t think in the midst of pain. I just rubbed my hands across my cheeks, my left hand throbbing while I did it, trying to make the tears go back, if not disappear from my face.

"Stop crying" I mumbled to myself. "Stop being so weak" I said, biting the insides of my cheek, trying to stop more tears from coming out. "He wasn’t even yours… He-" The ringing of my almost destroyed phone inside my coat interrupted me.

I swallowed a sob, being surprised by the taste of blood I felt as I did it. I may have bitten my cheeks too hard.

“H-hello?” I mumbled, after pressing what I thought was the answer button. I barely could see anything through my tears, and the shattered screen didn’t help at all in the process.

"Taylor?" It was my mom. "Are you okay?" She asked, souding worried.

I cleared my throat again, speaking louder than before, trying to mask any trace of sadness with a fake tired tone:

“Yes… I just… I just woke up.”

"Oh, sorry dear."

"It’s okay" I said. It was a quick call. She just explained to me about the plane and what time I was supposed to be in it. I didn’t pay as much attention as I should, trying hard to control my breath and my voice. She didn’t ask anything about Ed, probably assuming if I wanted to say something, I would. To be honest, I didn’t want to say anything. I just wanted to scream.

But if I did, my mother would think I’m crazy, so as Ed’s neighbours.

When the call ended, I went back to letting all my tears come out. I did it for minutes, and I did it without worrying. I needed to cry alone. Put it all out alone. I couldn’t held any longer. And I had to do it right now because I couldn’t risk doing it in front of Ed or Claire and having to explain everything. Well, having to lie about everything.

After some time, I looked at the clock in my shattered phone. An hour or so had passed since Claire had left the car. I wiped the tears from my face, feeling the readier I could be with all the circumstances, to go inside. I left the car with an exaggerated slowness, trying to prolong the moment, trying to avoid thinking about anything. Literally anything.

I entered the house with hesitancy, realizing that there was nobody in the living room, neither in the kitchen. I assumed they were probably in his room. I couldn’t hear anything from where I was, so I just went to the kitchen and picked up some ice for my hand. Don’t think of anything, I reminded myself between breaths.

The top of my hand was a little too red and, apparently, the pressure of the ice against it wasn’t helping at all. I kept pressing it anyway, maintaining my focus on what I was doing. Don’t think about nothing, I said to myself again.

I walked around the kitchen, walked around the living room, sat, walked some more, sat a little more and nothing of them. This was torture. Looking at the clock after a long while of pacing back and forth, I realized I should be on the plane in about an hour. I began to freak out. I needed a shower, and I needed my bag… How much longer would it take? How long more would I have to stay here reminding myself that everything was over? Reminding myself that I had multiple chances to tell him, and I didn’t?

Part of me felt this was a good thing. If I had told him about my feelings before, things would be even more complicated right now for the three of us. If I had confessed everything to Ed, and he felt the same, Claire you end up hurt. If he didn’t, I would end up hurt. Part of me just couldn’t see how telling him was a good thing anymore.

In fact, I guess I knew there were more chances of me getting hurt than anything else. But now that I really was, I just couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t create any more possibilities or find a way out of thing giant mess of feelings. Not right now.

I needed to leave.