Boy Next Door

My Last Poem About You

Camila flopped her pillow down on one end of Shawn's couch, laying down on her side as she covered her small body up with her blanket.

"Are you sure you're okay on the couch?" Shawn asked. "I'm more than happy to take the couch tonight if you'd prefer to sleep in my bed."

"No no, this is just fine." Camila pulled the blanket up to her chin and wiggled into the couch, getting comfortable.

"Okay, well...I'll see you in the morning...?"

"Sure," Camila yawned. "If I wake up before you I might just sneak back over to my place, though. So if you wake up and I'm gone, don't panic."

"Noted," Shawn chuckled. "Goodnight, Camila."

"Goodnight Shawn."

"...and really, if you need anything just come and wake me up. Really, I won't mind," Shawn said as he made his way towards his bedroom.

"I will," Camila said with a sleepy smile. Within minutes she had fallen asleep peacefully—a stark contrast to her struggle to fall asleep in her own apartment just minutes prior.

Shawn woke up around 4:00 am with a dry throat. He had fallen asleep with his mouth just slightly agape and now his tongue felt like a dried up sponge. He crawled out of bed and stealthily snuck out into the kitchen, being extra quiet as to not wake Camila, who was still sleeping soundly on his couch. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before beginning to tip-toe back into his room.

He couldn't help but stop and stare at Camila as she slept. His initial crush on her when he first moved in was based purely on physical attraction—but as he was getting to know her he realized he kind of had a crush on her personality too. He hated to admit it, but honestly just her overall gave him butterflies. He hadn't slept with anyone since the girl he met at the bar, Lydia. Not because he didn't need any type of sexual gratification, but because these days he really only seemed to be interested in one specific girl—the poet who lived across the hall. He walked up to where she slept and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes away from her face, noticing a soft smile creep across her sleeping face as his hand caressed her skin. She started to stir, so he quickly pulled his hand back and made his way back into his room for the rest of the night.

He was torn—torn between wanting to take advantage of the fact that she was single for the first time in nine years by asking her out on a date and wanting to just give her time and space to heal from what had clearly been an ugly break up. He didn't recognize this side of himself. Typically, girls would have to work their ass off in order to keep him interested in them. But with Camila, he couldn't stop thinking about her even if he tried. Everything he was feeling was new and scary, but he kind of loved it.

Several hours later he woke up, and sure enough Camila had already gone back to her apartment. He silently cursed himself for not waking up earlier, thinking about how they could've had breakfast together if only he had been awake.

Camila hadn't woken up the way she intended to. She had hoped that she'd wake up feeling fine and refreshed and she could just mosey over to her apartment and carry on with the rest of her day—but no. She woke up feeling exceedingly nauseous and knew she had a limited amount of time before she'd have to throw up. Thinking quickly, she stood up and grabbed her pillow and blanket before nearly sprinting out of his apartment and into hers. Luckily for both of them, she had made it to the toilet just in time to vomit. Morning sickness was a real bitch. She cleaned herself up and spent the majority of the rest of her day organizing and ordering more poems. As she read and re-read the things she had written about Zachary, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed that she had stayed with him for so long. She couldn't help it, he was all she knew—he was her comfort zone, even if being in a relationship with him hurt like hell.

As she finally figured out the perfect order for her poems, it hit her: the conclusion to the collection. The perfect little bow to tie around the past nine years of her life, symbolizing that this had indeed been a chapter of her life...but that now it was over. Not wanting the words to escape her, she quickly grabbed her notebook and pen and left to climb up to the roof. She wrote and wrote and wrote—resulting in a somewhat stream-of-consciousness paragraph that finally helped her feel free.

Her ultrasound picture was sitting on the page next to her latest writing. After getting the pictures, she started using one of them as bookmark in her notebook. The juxtaposition of this new life growing inside of her and her old life that she was finally saying goodbye to for good made her smile. For once, she felt like she was taking a step in the right direction.

"I thought I might find you up here." Shawn's voice echoed from behind her. She quickly grabbed the ultrasound picture and shoved it in her pocket, hoping he didn't notice. "Any luck?" he asked while eyeing the book in her hands.

"Um, yeah...actually. I think...I think I might've just written the perfect ending."

"Can I?" Shawn held out his hand, waiting for her notebook. "Or have I already used up all of my early access poetry privileges?" Camila smiled and took a deep breath before handing the book over to him.

3,285 days, countless poems, and an embarrassing amount of doodled hearts later...the reality of you not being my one has finally begun to set in. It's been one week of trying to get over you and I still cried last night, and I will probably cry again. But not forever, because I know that I know that I know that I deserve so much better. I deserve someone who will think my eyes shine like diamonds, and whose heart will always ache to be next to me, and who will do whatever it takes to have me—no matter what. Someone who will overcome every obstacle to ensure that I am forever his. And this will be my last poem about you, and tomorrow will be day one of erasing your name from my heart—and it's going to sting, because I really was hoping you'd stay. But no, I now see that you are not my one. You are only one step in the right direction.

Shawn's eyes were wide with a mixture of pride and surprise as he read over her words.

"Jesus, Camila...this is...this is beautiful. Heartbreaking yet empowering and just...absolutely incredible." He smiled as he handed the notebook back to her. "I think you nailed it. That really is the perfect conclusion."

"Thanks, Shawn..." Camila said shyly. "I used to get upset because he would never want to read my poetry...but honestly I'm kind of grateful for that now. I don't think he'd like many of these poems," she chuckled.

"Hey, uh...I know this is like, super personal...and feel free to just not answer if you don't want to—but...why did you guys break up? I mean you guys were together for so long...what was the final straw?" he asked curiously as he sat down next to her. Camila stared at her hands in her lap as she took a deep breath in an attempt to gain the confidence to finally just spit it out.

A/N: Poem is "Part II: Thoughts With a Clear Mind" by Madisen Kuhn. I did change a few of the words to make it make more sense with the story. :) Also sorry the poems have only been by two different poets so far. I'm literally just picking out collections from my bookshelf and flipping through them, bookmarking the ones that work well with the story. I'll try to diversify it a bit more as the story progresses.