The Two Middles

Chapter 27: We'd Sing On The Sidewalk

Warning: Unedited.

I know I don't usually do this and I promise this is the only time it's happening.

Enjoy! 

xoxo

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Years from now, I hope we're still in each other's lives. 

I read it over and over again. And with each time, I let more of the goddamned tears out. What the hell's happening to me? It feels like all I ever do these days is cry and never smile. I haven't smiled in two and a half weeks, not since winter break got over. I swear to god, it's driving me crazy. He's  driving me crazy. He still won't talk to me, and I want to cry. I just want to cry my eyes out till there's no tears left. Till the river floods itself. All of this, for one guy. For one fucking guy. And I don't even know why. It hurts that he doesn't talk to me anymore. It hurts way more than it should. I feel like I have no one to talk to, anymore. That no one will go out of their way to listen to me, the way he did.  

I read the old text twice again. Years from now, I hope we're still in each other's lives. 

He'd sent it to me randomly when we'd been texting and talking about all the fun things we could do one day.

We'd have a food fight! I'd said.

Dude, we'd pole dance on the cafeteria tables. He'd replied.

We'd sing on the sidewalk. 

We'd roadtrip to South America.

And we'd have a guitar in hand whilst doing so.

Years from now, I hope we're still in each other's lives. He'd finally said. 

We will be.  I'd replied with a smile. 

Well, that didn't happen.

Preston barged into the room, and upon looking at my godforsaken state, yelled, "Aubrey, what the hell?"

I slammed my laptop shut and didn't make any move to hide my tears. He'd seen them anyway. I looked up at Preston, "What do you want?"

"Fuck what I want. What the hell happened to you?"  He came into my room and shut the door behind him. He sat himself on my bed, next to me. 

"Nothing big. I'm a girl. I over-dramatize things."

Preston narrowed his eyes at me, "Fine, don't tell me. But stop crying. It's probably not worth it. Get out of here."

I nodded and got up from the bed. Preston got the hint and walked out of my room. I stared at my laptop, beyond tempted to cry my eyes out, reading old Facebook messages between Jaden and I. Then thought against it. If I wanted to vent, I'd do it in a way I knew best. So I pulled my guitar out and went up to the roof. It was nearly seven in the evening on a Friday evening, and I sit here, looking around me at the all-to-familiar scene of my neighbourhood. I can't help, however, but look for Jaden, hoping he's somewhere here, walking his dog or getting out for a run. I shake my head at my ridiculous-ness and start to strum my guitar.  I strum and I strum and I strum and I strum, but sing not a single word. I feel like I'll start to cry again if I do. So I jsut strum.

About five minutes later, I set my guitar down beside me and draw my knees as close to my chest as I possibly can without falling off my sloping roof. Then I sit and stare at the street below me, hoping like hell to see Jaden walking by, but at the same time hoping to not see him, because, of late, looking at him has put me in a worse mood than I usually am in.