How to choose the one

Guilt is a bitch

I can barely bring myself to even think about this iceberg size mess I'm living. I refuse to. Call it denial if you like. I prefer to call it controlled survival. I painfully control every detail of my life second by second. No room for extras or accidents or trouble.

Not anymore.

My life now consists of moving in very small circles to avoid running into.... people. Or one particular person. My now non- life follows a simple series of movements. I get up, ignore all social media incase I get a glimpse of his happy life with her. I make myself somewhat decent, I get coffee downstairs, I go to class and then rehearsal and then I come back to the dorm. No chit chat. No dawdling. No fun. No life.

No feelings.

I eat in the cafeteria of the dorm. I make sure to ignore all invitations to live outside of my depressing life. I have to. Because if I dared to step outside this controlled little circle I have created, I may run into him. And then I would have to deal with meeting her. And the guilt would eat me alive.

It's only been five days and so far, it's ok. Well, it's not at all ok. But I'm safe in my bubble. I keep myself busy. I keep my mind active so I don't go there. I can't. Not yet.

So no. I won't go to the bar. Or the mall. Or anywhere but my protected little cycle. Because if I did, I might just fall apart. And I can't. I won't.

I'm sitting here now avoiding the constant barrage of texts from Lexi and Candice who are with the team at a quad party outside the dorms. The base is so loud I can feel it from my room. Im having an in-room dance pith party with myself. I don't need to be there to know that everyone else is.

That's the exact reason I'm not there. Call me pathetic. Candice does. Constantly. I prefer the term self preservation. I'm trying to preserve my bloody emotions. And this is the best way for me to do it.

My phone buzzes again and I expect to see another risqué pic from Candice. The drunker she gets, the more clothing comes off. It's almost porn now and getting more and more obscure in terms of where she is posing.

The last one was in some kind of shower block and she was basically topless. If these ever get out I'll be done for keeping underage porn on my phone. Crazy girl. Must delete these after I tease her with the evidence of her debauchery tomorrow.

When I look down at the number I notice it's Dee instead and I almost jump out of my skin trying to connect the call.

"Dee oh my god. I miss you." I all but shout down the phone at her.

"Spill." She says dryly. I roll my eyes and pretend I have no clue what she is on about. I'm going to make this fun before she inevitably starts telling me off.

When I remain silent I hear her grunt on the phone and she continues without letting me make her wait too long;

"Don't give me that innocent silent act shit Ellis, you have been banging on and on about this Bayne guy and then all of a sudden this last week... nothing. So like i said, spill. Because I know you well enough to know that silence means shit has hit the fan. Am I right?" She speeds out, hitting the nail on the head with such accuracy that I'm literally speechless for a few seconds.

She knows me.

"Fuck. Dee. I screwed up. Majorly screwed up." I whisper out, shaking my head as I do because I feel like the literal worst person in the world every time I think about it.

"What happened." She asks, her know it all tone evident as she waits for me to say the words. She knows it must be bad because I usually tell her everything. No secrets. Ever. That's our rule. No matter how bad they are.