Sara's PV
"Tee? Are you awake?" I asked as I slipped underneath the covers on my sisters bed. It was so warm I felt like I could just stay there forever, snuggled up next to her.
"Ermph" Tegan groaned possibly trying to attempt a word. She stretched out underneath the covers and glanced toward her nightstand next to her. Her alarm clock read 2:23 A.M. She groaned once more and then rolled onto her side to face me. She proceeded to allow her head to sink once again into her feather soft pillow.
"It's two in the morning Sara. I know you might have just came home from Sam's house but not everyone else is up and going at this time. I'm tired." In all honesty a month ago Tegan would have been up at this time also. But that was before she had started battling some force unknown to me, that was before her depression. I missed the old Tegan but no matter what I did she remained the same: a broken, empty shell.
"I know, I'm sorry. It's just, Sam said something to me and well I don't know why but it kinda..well i-i--it scared me." I said avoiding Tegan's worried look. I could already feel the tension in the air as Tegan's posture turned from tired to worried and slightly frustrated because of my slight discomfort. I hated to admit it but it gave me secret pleasure and filled me with pride knowing that Tegan would inflict pain on anyone who would hurt me.
"What did Sam say? Did she threaten you or hurt you in any way?" Tegan's voice climbed with each syllable and she suddenly seemed very awake and alert. Her body tensed with slight fear.
Tegan's PV
Thoughts flew through my head. Had Sam hurt Sara? If so where was she because I had a sisterly duty to kick her ass.
"No..no..no. She didn't threaten me or hurt me. Sam wouldn't do that. She just well…she um told me that she loved me, that's all."
That's all. She JUST told Sara she loved her. No big deal at all. Yet why does it feel like such a big deal?
I forced my body to relaxed. I knew my body now expressed a different emotion, one that Sara would not be able to place, yet I easily recognized as jealousy.
"Well that's not that big of a deal. What did you say? I tried to ask nonchalantly.
"I told her I loved her too. Except, well I really don't." Sara said.
I could clearly see the disappointment filling Sara's eyes. "Sara your sixteen, you don't have to be in love. I have told a million of my ex girlfriends that I loved them. Do you think I loved them? Hell no."
I couldn't even fathom why Sara seemed so distraught over not being in love with her girlfriend. To be frank I was more than thrilled by the news that Sara didn't love Sam.
"It's just that I feel like I should love her. I mean I just don't get it Tegan. Sam treats me so well yet I still feel so empty when I am around her. I just don't feel happy, sure in the beginning I did. But maybe that was just the excitement of a new relationship. Now, it seems to have worn off completely. But I feel like I can't break up with her. We have been together for six months. I can't just say your perfect but something is still missing and I don't think we can do this anymore. It just doesn't work like that." Sara let out a frustrated sign.
"Sara, loosen up and live a little. Just have fun and stop looking into things so deeply. Stop looking for love. If you don't want to be with Sam then dump her, end of story."
A yawn escaped from my mouth. I was utterly exhausted. A long silence enveloped us for a moment. I could feel my eyes closing from exhaustion but was startled by Sara's voice once again.
"Have you ever been in love? "
My eyes shot open, startled yet again but this time by the question. Sure it was a simple and innocent question yet the answer was complicated and far from innocent.
"Well I, I mean I, maybe. But that's a different story altogether Sara. I don't feel like talking about it right now. Go to sleep, I'm tired."
I turned back onto my stomach and placed my head under my pillow. My cool sheets felt great against the warm blush that had begun to grace my cheeks. Luckly Sara had not noticed it. I felt Sara's weight being removed from the bed and groaned from the loss of body heat. I felt a shiver run up my back and goose bumps erupted along my body. I wasn't for sure if it was because I was cold or because the real answer to Sara's question was ringing through my head.
My eyes slowly shut and it was then that I realized I was no longer tired. I sat up and turned on the lamp that sat on top of my night stand. Thoughts raced through my head and I felt an odd sensation in my stomach. It was the same feeling one gets before throwing up. I was sick, no, not physically sick: I was mentally sick. I opened up my night stand drawer and pulled out a notebook. A picture of Sara and I flew out. I picked it up and looked at it: We were five and Sara had me placed in a head lock. I let out a small chuckle and I tossed the picture on the ground as tears threatened to fall from my eyes.
I grabbed the pencil that was resting in the metal rings of my notebook. At the top of a piece of new notebook paper I wrote in big letters the two words that forced their way into my head "Don't Confess". Underneath the title I scribbled "Don't thinking I'll confess. Why would I confess that I" I couldn't finish the statement. I mean how could I ever honestly confess this love? I couldn't even write it down on paper. It made the feeling all too real.
I grabbed my notebook and walked into the living room. I sat down next to the window and looked outside. It was snowing, another shiver shook my slightly small frame. The snow was beautiful and for a moment I wanted nothing more than to go outside and attempt to catch snowflakes on my tongue. But then I realized it would be boring and odd without Sara. I picked up my pencil once more. My thoughts returned back to Sara. How could I not confess it? This thing, this love, it consumed me. This love, it broke my heart. It broke my heart because of all the possibilities. What if she found out and felt the same? Or what if she hated me?
I placed my pencil to the paper once more and next to the title I put parenthesis and added "This Thing That Breaks My Heart." I came to the conclusion that this fit better than "Don't Confess (This Love)". This wasn't any ordinary love at all. This wasn't happy and fulfilling, it was lonely and broken. I continued to think and write. An hour passed by and all I had written down was this:
Don't Confess(This Thing That Breaks my Heart)
Don't think I'll confess, why would I confess that I
Don't think I'll deny, why would I deny that I
Yes, it was very contradictory. But then again so was I, nobody would truly get the meaning except for my self. I was doing both at the same time. I wasn't denying my love for her nor was I confessing it. I sluggishly picked up my notebook and replaced my pencil in the rings. I dragged myself back to my room. My alarm clock read 4:17 A.M. I tossed my notebook back in it's place and flopped down on my bed. I barely covered myself up before drifting to sleep.