Under Construction [H.S.]

Chapter Two

Song: 100 Bandaids - stripped by Faouzia

-------------

"Shit," was the first word that came out of my mouth as I heard my alarm go off.

I tried to peel myself out of bed, but a pair of arms trapped me. I peered over my shoulder at Brant's
sleeping figure. His blonde hair messily swept across his face and his lips curved downward as he snored softly. He looked so peaceful.

Brant and I had been together since the beginning of tenth grade. We were that couple that made everyone else believe that high school relationships could last. Doing long distance was fine. No, it didn't feel like I got the whole college experience because while my friends were sucking face at a frat party, I was constantly telling suitors that I had a boyfriend back home.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had ended our relationship after high school. I would have been able to spread my wings and explore myself. I could have focused on loving myself instead of trying to love the version of myself that Brant created in his head. He had told me multiple times, whether outright or subtly, that he liked me better in my 'skinny' days. He was always telling me things like:

"How about a salad?"

"Is your stomach getting bigger? I am worried about your health."

"Your face is getting chubby."

My self-esteem plummeted with these comments. But, that didn't make me end the relationship. I let this go on for years and I always wrote it off as him just trying to look out for me. I tried to find excuses for his behavior even though there were none. It is my body and no one should tell me how to maintain it.

I was about to end the relationship, but then my Mom passed away and everything ground to a halt. School meant nothing to me. Parties meant nothing to me. I was numb all over, for weeks.

Brant tried to reach out to me, but it felt like my soul had left my body when the accident happened. I didn't check my phone for weeks. When I finally did, I found dozens of texts from Brant ranging in various emotions. Some were sympathetic to an almost pathetic degree and others were downright blunt and uncalled for.

"Why aren't you calling me Mar?"

"Marina, why can't you just get out of bed?"

"Marina, I am sick of waiting for you to text me back"

"Is this your way of breaking up with me?"

Brant had never been the best with emotions and that was something that I used to be fond of, because I too, struggle with emotions. He was a heat of the moment kind of guy. However, after Mom died, I couldn't be emotionally distant. All I had was my emotions.

Brant's texts hurt me and further damaged my trust and faith in him. I had full intentions of breaking it off with him. When I finally got out of bed after days of crying, the first place I went to was his house.

I had prepared what I would say. I had rehearsed the speech over and over in my head. But, when he opened the door and I saw his tousled hair and soft eyes, the words left me and my mouth was dry.

The next thing I knew he was cuddling me on his couch, telling me how much he missed me. Every compliment he gave me somehow outweighed all of the negative things he had said about me.

I had tried to tangibly piece together in my mind why I had stayed with him. And I had figured it out.

Brant was home. He was safe. He was constant. He was there from the beginning, from when life was normal and he was there for the abnormal. I had never been good with change and leaving him would have been a big change.