My own reality

19

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The bell rings, jolting me out of my heart wretched trance. I sigh and continue staring at the TV screen. I don’t know how long it has been since I last moved from this chair, and I don’t feel like moving anytime soon. The floor is littered with empty ice cream buckets and pizza boxes. Every body part is numb. My eyes feel heavy and my body feels like hardened lead. Just blinking sends sparks of unwanted energy through my body.
The bell rings again. Who could that be? If it’s Mom, she would’ve just entered. Tyler would’ve walked in too. His practically my brother, although I have not seen him ever since...ever since...
No! I made a promise to myself to expel all thoughts connected to—
The bell rings multiple times nonstop.
I groan. “Alright, I’m coming,”
I stand up and literally drag myself to the door. I open it my heart stops dead.
“Tiffany?” I gasp and my body lights up with energy.
She looks normal, in fact bored. Her chestnut hair tumbles down her shoulders like a calm waterfall. She is wearing a ‘Hello Kitty’ shirt, white shorts and white addidas sneakers. She carries a white schoolbag, a few textbooks and a pen.
“Hi,” she mutters. She told me not to talk to her ever again. But here she is! 
“Tiffany,” I say again. I spread out my arms to pull her into a hug. She jabs her pen on my chest, stopping my momentum.
“I came to finish the stupid essay,” she walks past me into the house. I step in after her and close the door behind me.
“The project?”
She takes in the filth of the living room with a disgusted face. “This place is a dump,” she finally notices my plain white shirt and sweatpants, same ones I’ve been wearing all week. “You look awful,”
“Yeah,” I nod. “You really did something,”
“What?”
“Maybe we can go someplace else and talk about this,”
“No, the essay is due Monday and we haven’t even started on it,” she says. “I said I’d come by your place on Saturday to finish it. It’s Saturday,”
What’s this essay she keeps on...oh. The fucking essay!
Tiffany notices my facial expression. “You’ve been working on it, right?” she asks, giving me a detective stare.
“Look,” I say carefully. “After all that happened, I–”
She raises her hands up in the air in exasperation. “What the fuck, Jason!”
“Tiffany,” I say slowly. “Please stop doing this,”
“Doing what?” she exclaims.
“This,” I spread my arms. “Whatever this is. We are not going to sit here pretending that nothing happened and have awkward small talk,”
“What?” her face twists in confusion.
“Aren’t we going to talk about this,” I say. “About us?”
She glares at me as if I have spat on her face. “Us?”
“I’m so sorry, Tiffany!” the pure sorrow I have been holding in for the past couple of days spills out of me like a flood breaking through a dam. Seeing her standing there brings back all the memories and I relive through them in that split second. My heart twists in my undying need for her. I can’t resist it anymore. I pull her into the tightest hug yet.
She pulls away with great force. “Let go of me, you creep!”
Wait, what?
She runs for the door, I chase after her. “Tiffany, please!”
She opens the door and rushes out, slamming it shut behind her.
This is the third time she has walked away from me. And each time has felt worse than the last.
She called me a creep. That’s unlike her. Even though we’ve broken up, she wouldn’t have called me that...right? She said it as if I was a stranger...
My worst nightmare has actually come true. She’s forgotten about me and moved on too quickly. I move to the couch and crush on it, a new wave of tears taking over.