So, I was supposed to upload this on my birthday, which was yesterday, but I didn't finish it until a few minutes ago. :)
Enjoy!
Left your t-shirt in my room; still smells of you.
Joy sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. She reached over the unmade comforter and sheets and brought the t-shirt close to her. He had worn it but a few weeks ago. The night that she had pulled him into her room and she'd ripped it off him. It was her favorite shirt that he had ever worn. It was a simple white tee with the Beatles logo on it. But it was her favorite because it reminded her of the night that they had gotten back together after a big fight. It still smelled like him.
And the picture you hung on the door lays smashed and picture perfect.
Her brown eyes flitted to the bedroom door. In a silver picture frame with butterflies on the corner was a picture of them on their five month anniversary. He had given it to her on their six month anniversary. It was the best picture she had ever taken. And one of the many pictures they had taken together. She had always made him take photos with her and he relented, despite thinking that couple pictures was too mainstream and everyone did it, showing off to other people that they had someone.
It explains now, clearly. Nothing left, but a memory.
Through her bedroom window, Joy could see them on the other side of the yard. He had a new girlfriend; she had been the reason they had broken up. And just seeing them laugh together, and watching him suggest taking a picture, made Joy realize that he never truly loved her. He had never said he did, but she thought he did, and she was stupid to think such a thing.
We only made out, you never kissed me. That's how I learned to hold back all feeling.
She could still feel his lips on hers. Their kisses had always been rough, passionate, filled with lust and want. He had never kissed her cheek or her hand, or gently pecked her lips. He only did that for her; the girl that had once been her best friend.
Wait, please don't go; I won't stay.
She laid back on her bed and let her eyes drift shut; a horrible decision, really.
"Wait," she pleaded, like the pathetic girl she was. She grabbed onto his shirt sleeve and he took a deep breath, something he always did before he said something important.
"I can't do this anymore, Joy. I can't be with you when I still have feelings for her." Joy flinched slightly when he said that. How could he still feel that way about her? What made her so much better?
All these words on replay; I'm okay, it's alright.
"Look, Joy, I really did enjoy the time we spent together. You're a lot of fun, and I really did like you. But no one can compare to her, and I was stupid to think that you could take her place. I'm so sorry. I didn't plan on hurting you. I really don't wanna lose our friendship because of this. Please, don't cry." He begged when he saw tears well up in her eyes.
"No, I'm okay, it—it's alright. I understand." She murmured.
Good to know you're fine pretending everything is right, to make it better.
"This is the way it's meant to be." He said, trying to make everything better as he gripped her shoulders in his hands, but it only made her want to hug him and never let him go. "I've always belonged with her. It's just the way things are. We were meant to be together from the beginning. You and I were never supposed to happen. I don't know how it did, but things happen for a reason—you learn lessons from everything that happens—"
"You mean you learn from your mistakes." She spat.
"No, Joy, that's not what I was saying," he began, but he was pushed out of the room and the door was slammed in his face.
He ran a hand through his hair. He just lost one of his best friends.
I'll hide my make-up smeared eyes to show that I'm fine.
Joy hid under her covers as Patricia entered the room. "Joy, are you okay?"
"I'm just tired," she answered. "I'll be fine, I just need some sleep."
"Okay," and the auburn haired girl left after getting her iPod, but she didn't believe her roommate. She knew that she just needed time.
And just like the day that he had ripped her heart out of her chest, she pulled her hair away from her face and cleared the tan skin of her smeared make-up. She reapplied her mascara and eyeliner with some eye shadow and a little bit of blush before taking a deep breath. She grabbed her bag, leaving the room, forcing a fake smile onto her face.
So somehow, you have managed to get under my skin, more than anyone ever did.
He tried to talk to her. He tried so hard to get her to look at him, but she completely ignored him; he wanted his friend back. And as she walked away, she could feel the horrible pain clawing at her chest. He had known her so well. She had told him so much. And she had thought he had opened up to her, but he never told her what he told his girlfriend. He had never trusted her enough.
And if every hole makes a scar, and every scar marks its place, then I will never live freely without your trace.
Her head pounded as she gazed forward at the teacher, but that song still played over and over again in her head; never ending. She had told him that it was their song and he went along with it. He would play it every once in a while to make her happy, but he didn't even know the words to it.
'It's been said and done; every beautiful thought's been already sung. And I guess right now, here's another one, so you're melody will play on and on, with the best of 'em. You are beautiful, like a dream come alive; incredible. A sinful miracle; lyrical; you saved my life again. And I want you to know, baby.'
She silently sang to herself, tapping her foot to the beat in her head quietly.
And it'll never be fair. I wrote my songs for you, and you never even cared.
Now, Joy couldn't sing very well, but she could write songs, or maybe they were just poems, but she often sang them to herself when she was sure no one could hear her. And as a love sick teenage girl, she had written so many songs for him. They would just go on and on about how much she loved him and how much she wanted to be with him and how she never wanted them to end.
So I'll forget you; I'll wash your t-shirt, and kill the pillow, and cut you out of pictures.
Joy nodded to herself in determination. She grabbed his shirt, the pillow they'd shared, and a photo album filled with them. She hurried downstairs and threw his t-shirt into the washing machine in the laundry room. Then, she stood at the counter, pulling out a steak knife. She slashed through the pillow's fabric and tossed it into the waste basket. And then she proceeded to pluck each photo from the album and cut his face out of them, trashing the cutouts.
Wait, please don't go; I won't stay. All these words on replay; I'm okay, it's alright. Good to know you're fine pretending everything is right, to make it better.
She tried to push those memories out of her mind. She had cut him out of pictures, but that hadn't cut him out of her life. She still thought about him. She dreamt about him. Not all of those thoughts or dreams were pleasant, but he still haunted her mind; his mesmerizing eyes, his silky soft hair, his warm smile, his flawless face lingered in the shadows at the back of her mind. She could still feel his arms around her and his lips pressed against hers. But she pushed those feelings as far away as she could.
And of course, he was okay. He was great; his eyes were brighter and his smiles were bigger. He was truly happy, and he had once said that life was supposed to work this way, but it just didn't seem right to her. Why couldn't she have a happy ending with someone she loved, like everyone else?
I'll hide my make-up smeared eyes.
Joy applied her make-up again, around her eyes to hide the crying she had done just a few minutes before. She slipped into her dress and put on her heels. She couldn't skip out on a dance; then, everyone would know something was really wrong. She cast a last glance at her mirror to make sure her eyes looked normal, and then she went down to the foyer to join the others.
This drama sat shotgun.
Joy stomped to the car, heels clicking against the concrete as she left the restaurant. She whipped the back door open and climbed into the backseat. She crossed her arms over her chest as he climbed into the front seat. He rolled his eyes when he noticed that she was pouting like a child. She couldn't be mature about the situation, could she?
"Joy," he began, and she turned to him expecting his apology. "Seatbelt,"
Joy's heart sank. He wasn't going to try and fix it?
My eyes rain like autumn.
She looked away. She couldn't cry over him. But she couldn't help it. She loved him, and he was happy without her. She dashed from the room and hid in one of the bathroom stalls. She took a deep breath, sitting on the toilet lid.
If you love someone, set them free.
But it was just so hard…
Only the glove box knows how the story goes.
They were silent the whole ride. Neither spoke a word. It was a tense, heavy silence that made Joy want to cry. His grip tightened on the steering wheel.
"I can't believe you flirted with that girl." Joy whispered into the thick air.
He looked back at her in the rearview mirror briefly before paying attention to the road again. "I was being polite."
"You did it right in front of me."
"Would you prefer that I did it behind your back?"
"Would you have done that to her?" she spat and his eyes hardened instantly. He didn't say another word. Reluctantly, he had lost the fight, but he didn't want to say anything that would make the situation even worse.
Now that this bandage is broken and the cut's left and open, I'll tell you just one thing: this wasn't worth the sting.
Joy chose to leave the bathroom looking perfectly fine. She was going to let him go. He had hurt her, and she was suffering for no reason. She was trying to convince herself that he wasn't even worth it. It was proving to be difficult, but she was going to forget him.
This drama sat shotgun. My eyes rain like autumn. Only the glove box knows how the story goes. Now that this bandage is broken and the cut's left and open, I'll tell you just one thing: this wasn't worth the sting.
Slowly, but surely, she forgot those fights; she shoved their memories into a box and taped it up tight, saving them for another day; she slept for nights with his hauntings, but soon he had disappeared completely; and his eyes, his smile, his hair, his laugh, his voice, his teasing had been beaten down until they were barely visible.
Oh, this drama sat shotgun. My eyes rain like autumn. Only the glove box knows how the story goes. Now that this bandage is broken and the cut's left and open, I'll tell you just one thing: this wasn't worth the sting.
After school, sitting in the park and thinking about her old high school friends, she had met someone. He was nice and he soon, he had proven that he cared about her. They spent all the time they could together, and Joy was finally happy with someone.
Oh, this drama sat shotgun. My eyes rain like autumn. Only the glove box knows how the story goes. Now that this bandage is broken and the cut's left and open, I'll tell you just one thing: this wasn'tworth the sting.
But one day, many years later, she had seen him. He was older, but he still had the same young features on his handsome face. There was a very faint tug at her heart, but she gazed on in awe at what his life had turned out to be. He bent down as a little girl ran into his outstretched arms and she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. Then, he hugged three more children; another girl and two boys. He leant down to peck his wife's lips and wrap her up in a warm, loving hug. They all fell into conversation, discussing what had happened over the course of a week when he'd been gone on a business trip.
As they were walking away, Joy's eyes met his for a split second. She saw gratefulness and care shine in those beautiful eyes of his and her heart skipped a beat.
It was then that she realized that those few weeks of tears and heartbreak in high school hadn't been for nothing. She had gotten over him and learned to accept that he was happy. She had let him go, and for that, he was happy with a family that loved him. And because she had let go, she had a family of her own; a husband that did anything he could to make her happy and loved her unconditionally, and two girls that held their parents' hands as they strolled down the street.
Joy was thankful that she had once loved Jerome Clarke, and let Mara Jaffray have him like she was meant to, because she got that happily ever after she wanted.
Review?
I'm not happy with the ending, but I liked the idea. I just needed Jerome and Mara to get back together, but I wanted to do it in a different way. :)
"Let's run away (let's run away); together we stay (together we stay). Forever in your arms, I crumble."
-Rachel