I love you

by the-real-m3

I was six when I had my first kiss. Oneshot

1. Chapter 1

I know that I should be working on my other stories, but I was in the hospital and I wrote this out in my sister's ipod, and decided to post it up. It's a oneshot, so it shouldn't really interfere with my other stories.

I was six years old when I had my first kiss.

It was with my best friend under an apple tree where we carved our own little message. We carved in our names and best friends forever. She likely doesn't remember that kiss, probably because it seemed nothing more then a casual sentiment. We were so happy after we finally finished that we were jumping up and down, and then she pecked my lips.

She probably doesn't remember it, but that's cause it didn't mean much to her, not like it meant to me. But to me, it felt like it was the start of the rest of my life.

I was eight when I realized I didn't like boys, then or ever.

Of course, at the time, no girl liked boys, but I guess I kinda realized that I detested them in a different way then the others did. But, I was just happy that there were others who supported my theory of boys being someone that girls should stay away from. My best friend, the same one that carved that message on the tree with me, and kissed me on that day, was right by my side.

The funny thing is, you don't think that you remember things from when you were younger, but I remembered that kiss. I didn't know why I remembered the kiss at the time, especially when she probably didn't. But then, at the time, it was my first and only.

I was nine when I first realized I loved her.

I always thought it was weird that I used to dream about her. I found out why when I was nine. I guess it's a pretty young age to discover the love of your life, but I was just freaking out too much to even care. I couldn't love her, she was my best friend, and you're not supposed to fall in love with your best friend.

I told myself that for the longest time, until I finally woke up one morning, and I saw her beside my bed, grinning like an idiot. It was my birthday and she said that she wanted to be the first one to greet me. She doesn't know what that moment meant to me. Because at that second, when I saw her face, I realized that I never wanted to wake up seeing another persons face except hers.

She found out when I was ten.

I really tried to be discreet about it. But at eleven, we were going through the whole hormonal changes, and that just made everything worse. It's like my senses for her were heightened, and it really didn't help.

I can't exactly say how she found out. I'm guessing that she must have had some assumptions as we grew up. I really was a mess. I became annoyingly overprotective of her, and I guess that was one of the clues. I bothered her about everything that concerned her liking a guy, including from his name, and even trying to dissuade her from liking him.

I know that she must have had her suspicions, but I think that the breaking point came with her first boyfriend. She came pounding on my door one day, all excited and hyper. When I opened the door, the next thing I knew was that I was on the floor, with her on top of me and hugging me tightly.

Imagine me. I had my crush on top of me with her arms wrapped tightly around me. All I could think was that she smelled nice, and damn these hormones. Though, after a little bit she finally got off me and told me the big secret.

When the words left her mouth, I couldn't do anything except stare at her for a few minutes. Her excitement faded, and I finally found the strength to put on an incredibly fake smile, and tell her that I was happy for her. I don't really think she believed me, but she didn't say anything. After that I just told her to leave, that I was busy.

A few days later, she asked me if I could help her get ready for her date. I did. I put on her make up and did her hair, and made her the most gorgeous being known to man. Of course, she could of pulled that off even without all of the make up and stuff. The entire time I was putting on her make up, I could only think about how she was putting all this effort for someone that wasn't me. Her date finally arrived, and it was like everything happened in slow motion. There was a large part of me that kept believing that she wouldn't go, and that she would tell him to go away.

I escorted her down the stairs, and she met up with him in the doorway. He met her parents and they did the whole, introduction thing. Her parents left the room, and I was seeing her off. At that point, I still foolishly believed that she would turn back, and come to me. I still believed that she would tell him that she wasn't interested. She didn't. And that realization came one me, hard. She was about to leave the room, and closing the door behind her, but our eyes met for a single moment. And it was like everything changed.

Like I said, it all seemed like it was in slow motion, so I'm sure that it was no longer then a fraction of a second, but it felt like forever that I had to look into her eyes that were staring into mine. I know that my eyes were watery, and quite on the verge of breaking out into tears. I couldn't help it, it was like all hope left me at once, and I'm sure she saw that, because the smile that graced her face, disappeared immediately, and was replaced with a different type of look, a knowing look, a guilty one.

The door closed behind her, and I spent five minutes looking at the door, wanting the whole world to come and eat me up. It didn't, and instead, I left and went home. I spent the whole night crying, and I didn't go to school either. She never called or questioned it, and I think it's because she knew at that moment why I wasn't there in the first place.

At twelve, I got my first girlfriend.

A lot of things had happened since she found out. I wasn't entirely sure if she knew, but if she did know, she never brought it up, and we never talked about it. It's likely she knew though, because as close as we were, we weren't as close as we had been. Things had changed, and despite the fact that we were still best friends, it was like there was a strange barrier between us. And there was always the forbidden topic that we never brought up. I came out to everyone, including my own parents, who didn't really take it well, just a few months before my first girlfriend. She wasn't surprised, and to be frank, no one was really.

I had made my disinterest for boys very clear, and me saying it out loud, was just to fully clear things up. Of course, people had chosen to view me differently anyways. Though, I was lucky that, for the most part, not much had changed on that part. Though, I admit I was slightly depressed that I didn't tell her first, and that she wasn't there beside me when I came out to my parents. I was even more depressed after she started to avoid me when I came out. It was only a little while though, and she finally said she was sorry, and that nothing had really changed.

I'm sure that she must have felt somewhat estranged, especially considering that she likely knew I loved her, or at the very least, liked her.

But, that year, there was a very cute and adorable underclassman that I started to notice was always looking at me. Everytime I walked the halls, I would see her eyes looking to me shyly. At the time, despite being out and proud, I still had absolutely no experience in relationships, male or female, so I was quite dumbfounded.

One day, I finally got the courage and walked up to the girl who was blushing madly when I did, and asked her out. She almost fainted before she said yes. I remember being so excited, not only because I was going out on a date with a cute girl, but partially because I really felt like I was person I should be. I guess I was just confirming my lesbian identity.

I told her about my date, and she just stared at me wide eyed like I was insane or something. I didn't understand why she would though. I mean, she didn't like me, and I was trying to find a way to get over her, if that was even possible. She told me that she didn't like me going out on a date with a girl she's never even met, and I retorted back that she'd gone out with lots of guys that I'd never met.

She finally quieted down and apologized. I accepted her apology and asked her to help me with my date. She did, and that was a night I'll never forget, partially because that was my first date, and partially because it felt like a huge stepping stone.

When I was thirteen, I found out that she wasn't a virgin anymore.

I couldn't believe it. It was just something that fazed me.

How could she have had sex? I mean, we were only fourteen years old. In my mind, that was an act for those that needed to do it to survive. But she didn't need to. I never thought of her as being that curious, or being overly sexually active or anything. I was sure she wasn't. But I must've been wrong considering what she did.

It's not like I walked in on her or anything. She told me.

But, the painful part is, it wasn't just me that she told, it was a room of people sitting around in a circle, playing truth or fucking dare. Half the room applauded and gasped, I just stared at her. When we fell asleep that night, I didn't sleep anywhere near her like I usually did at sleepovers. I'm guessing she noticed because she got up and moved her sleeping bag next to mine.

I avoided her, and pretended I was sleeping. She saw through it, but I didn't care. I was angry that she had done it, and even angrier that she hadn't told me, and that I had to find out with a bunch of people that weren't anywhere near as close to her as I was.

She talked despite my feign sleeping stature. She said that she was sorry that she hadn't told me earlier. She said that it was a magical moment where the world seemed to stop especially for two people to have an experience on a level of intimacy I wouldn't even be able to imagine, or something like that.

I didn't really care how good or bad it felt, I was sad and hurt. If anything, I was so bitter that I actually hoped that she hated the experience and that it made her never want to be with a guy again. I don't really have much luck though, and I especially didn't then, considering that she spent half the night whispering about the experience in my ear.

Nothing really mattered to me, I was mad and hurt, and she caused that feeling in me. I felt betrayed on such a personal level.

Things changed when I turned fourteen.

I blame high school. How couldn't I? It was all because of the new change in environment that made everything so much worse. The people around us were new, and now, we were at the bottom of the food chain, and just when we finally worked our way to the top, too.

People were less kind when they saw I was gay. I mean, before, there was your casual whispering behind your back, but it tended not to phase you as much. It didn't to me. But now, it was like they openly showed their disdain. Nothing really got out of hand. There was your usual pranks and name calling, and violence was rare, and even when there was violence, someone usually stepped in to stop it. Luckily, I was never really a big target of that.

Now, I was always a kind of shy person. I wasn't really bold, and always tended to slink away from things that were too mainstream or too popular. I tried to blend in with the crowd, cause really, all I wanted to do was get through high school without a single broken bone, or if I was lucky a broken heart.

However, I was slightly more bold on the dating scene. I had gone out with a few girls at the time, and was getting more experienced. I hadn't had sex yet. Call me old fashioned, but I just didn't believe that you should do it with someone who was less then the most important person in your world. I hadn't met anyone like that other then her, so nothing really happened. That only goes to show my disappointment in her when she lost her virginity. He dumped her only two weeks later, and she barely even cared.

For the most part, I really only wanted to become part of the back scene, mainly to avoid the more violent part of the bullying. She on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She was always an overachiever, and high school was the perfect stage for her to show that to everyone. And being her, she was loved by anyone she met. She was one of the smartest people I'd ever met, and she easily made it in the top five of whatever class she had. She was athletic, and played on the flag football team, as well as doubling as a cheerleader. She didn't have much of a sense in music, but she was a great artist. The easiest way to describe her talents, is that she was a jack of all trades, master of none.

Of course, being all that and more, it was clear to see that she would attract the attention of the people who I was trying very hard to avoid. She instantly became popular, and I wasn't really liking it. I didn't really like sharing my best friend, and not so secret long time love, but I had no choice but to deal with it. Her new friends weren't so fond of me either, and they made it very evident by ignoring my presence every time I was with her.

She still kept me as her best friend, and she made it clear to them that that wouldn't change. That was the silver lining for most of it. Of course, it still never stopped my building jealousy of her being with other people. That was another thing that changed, throughout the entire year, she went out with over a dozen guys, and none of them for more then a month. I liked that she never went out with them for too long, but hated that she just jumped to a different one only days later. The surprising part is that no one ever thought of her as a slut. She wasn't, but it would seem that way to anyone who didn't know her.

I won't deny the fact that I was insanely jealous of the people she went out with, or even the people that she could go out with. I hated guys, and yet here I was, envying them more then anything in the world. I remember the pain of seeing her kiss another man, or seeing her in another person's arms except my own. But at this point, I had developed quite a good ability to hide these feelings.

But, I did have some power, or at least, influence in who she dated. If I told her that I really didn't like the guy that she dated, or that I thought that he was really bad for her, then she would stop dating him. Though, of course, she had the same effect on me. In a way, it was part of the reason that our friendship maintained. And, as much as I wanted to tell her that every guy was bad for her, I didn't. I knew that there was a line to being selfish, and I wouldn't be the one to cross it.

The greatest change though, was when she met him. I hate him. I hate him with every single fiber of my being. Simply because…because she loved him. I was there when they first met, when their eyes first locked, when my whole world and my hopes completely shattered.

It all happened when I was sixteen.

She'd been dating him for two years strong. It seemed as though they were perfect for each other, and I was on the verge of breaking. She was my best friend, and I found myself avoiding her any time she was with him. Whatever emotion I felt for her had grown even stronger, and ultimately, more painful. I stopped seeing girls. I stopped dating all together. I didn't care about any of that. I tried my best to move on, but it didn't work, and I found myself being lost.

All I knew was that I loved her more then anything in the world, that I loved her more then anyone else did or ever could. I know for sure that she knew that. The way that I looked at her had matured into something then just longing. I know that she saw that, because she avoided that look every chance she got. And yet, through it all, she was still my best friend.

We never once talked about it, or even said a single word about me being hopelessly, and irrevocably in love with her. I didn't want to talk about it either. Not when I knew that she's not talking about it in order to be with me.

I think that there were times that we had what could be considered a moment. But I'm not really sure. If we did, then we both ignored it, and never talked about it. It was those moments that remained completely unspoken of, and became nothing but another notch to our list of forbidden topics.

I looked away when she kissed him, discreetly of course. When he wasn't with her, then chances are, she was with me. Her friends still weren't fond of me, but they knew that I wasn't gonna go anywhere. I couldn't help but clench my teeth tightly whenever he talked to me, just so that I wouldn't sock him in the jaw.

I knew that he made her happy, and that he made her smile, but I wanted it to be me who put the smile on her face. I wanted it to be me who made each of her days worth living for.

I wasn't.

And there was a point, where I had just given up on everything, on her, on him, on me. I gave up hoping for anything, and decided to be beside her and to never step up on that stage, to never confront what I felt for her. I decided that I would be the best friend that was in love with the main character, but ultimately never noticed. It was painful, but pain shot right through me. I was just so used to it.

I think she knew about that. Me giving up. I think that she saw the hope disappear from me, because she started getting closer, and that hurt. It hurt to know that she thought it would be alright to get closer now that I didn't expect anything. It's fine though, I knew I had it coming. But that didn't stop the hugs from burning me, or the teasing kisses from torturing me. It never stopped the clench in my heart.

I wanted to be able to love her.

But I never wanted or asked to be in love with her.

She knew what she did to me. She knew the power she had over me, and the control she had over my heart. She knew all about it. Sometimes, I think that she did it on purpose. That she teased me and kissed him on purpose, but that might just be wishful thinking.

That didn't stop her though. It didn't stop her from handing my hand when we were alone, or kissing my cheek, or hugging me tightly in my arms. Those were the times that I was screaming in my head, the times when I was in anguish and yelling in my mind for her to let go of me, to stop my skin from burning, and my chest from aching, to stop giving me hope what maybe the kiss might be on my lips next time, or the hug just a little bit longer then what would be considered a hug for a friend.

Like I said, I never showed her any of that.

I couldn't.

I wouldn't let myself be embarrassed like that.

One day, everything fell apart.

Everything fell apart.

She fell apart.

So did I.

I never wanted it to end up like that. I don't like pain. I've never liked pain. If anything, I've tried to avoid it as much as possible. I'm sure that sounds preposterous and stupid considering what I put myself up with, but I really do dislike pain. That's why I tried to give up, to numb myself from her and everything else.

I tried to never confront what was going on. But the time came when I had to.

It was just a little after midnight. I heard a large pounding on my door and I went to go and answer it. I wasn't really surprised when I saw her there, slightly tipsy and leaning against the doorframe. I only sighed.

This wasn't the first time it happened. It had become slightly more frequent as we grew older, but I can't exactly deny that I hated it.

I didn't hate it.

I couldn't.

Because it ended up being a time when I could indulge in my love for her, without having to worry that I was staring for too long, or that I was holding her much closer then friends should. Each time she came to my house drunk, it would usually be because she wouldn't dare go home drunk unless she wanted to face the wrath of her parents.

I took her in, half carrying her with her arm slung on my shoulder, and I led her to my bedroom. The first time it happened, she told me that she wanted to sleep on my bed. I froze of course, I hadn't slept in the same bed with her since we were kids, and doing then seemed much too painful. I let her down on my bed though, and I was going to leave the room when she asked me to stay.

She told me that she didn't want to be in the room alone, and so I opted to stay beside her and pulled up a chair beside the bed and slept there. I never actually slept though. Instead, I would usually just watch her sleep. This was the time that I could indulge myself in her. I would just watch her as her chest rose and fell, or how she would sometimes mumble something before changing sleeping positions.

But that night, it was different.

I led her to my room and laid her down on the bed as usual, but she didn't sleep. I sat in the chair beside her and looked at her to see her looking back to me. She was just staring at me, and I had absolutely no clue why. Usually she'd already be asleep or knocked out. I figured that she just might not be as drunk as usual.

It made me slightly uncomfortable to see her staring at me. I didn't like her studying me in the way that she was. It was unfamiliar, and I didn't know her intentions, making it all the more worse. Her gaze made my skin feel like it was on fire, and I despised the feeling. I looked away from her, but she didn't.

About half an hour passed until she got up. I heard the bed creaking, and I didn't know why, because at that point, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I had shut my eyes really tight in order to not be tempted to look to see if she was still awake.

But when I had heard the bed creak, all I could do was be shocked and amazed when I felt her straddle me. I remember being frozen in my spot, my breath caught in my throat. I remember not knowing if my heart was beating really fast, or if it wasn't beating at all.

Her arms, had slinked their way around me, and that was really the last straw before my eyes popped open in the dark. There was no light in the room that night. The only light was coming from the window, by the night sky and the streetlamps.

I had let out a small gasp. She was sitting on my lap, her arms wrapped around me and the final touch was her burying her face in my neck. I was literally choking in my own breath. I didn't understand what was happening and why. I still remember her words. I still remember every word she said to me that night, and even the next morning.

"Let's play." Those were the first words that left her mouth that night. I couldn't speak, or talk or do anything. I was frozen in my place. The words that she had just whispered in my ear weren't making its way into my brain.

But when it finally did, all I could do was shake my head.

"Let's play, Ash." I think it was at this point that I started crying. I can't exactly explain why I was crying, but hearing those words come out of her mouth certainly had something to do with it.

"Let's just go to bed, Spence." My voice was so weak then. It was all cracked and I had absolutely no resolution in turning away the girl I was in love with.

"But, I wanna play Ash." I got shivers running down my spine when she purred that into my ear. I knew what she meant when she said play, and that was exactly why I was doing my best to avoid her.

I didn't understand why she would want to do anything with me when she had a boyfriend she was in love with, and her life was pretty much perfect. I could smell the alcohol in her breath but I still didn't think that it was enough for her to instigate such things.

"Um, why don't you call Sandy, she's doing some experimenting. She might take you up on that offer." I tell her meekly. I wasn't about to do it with her. I wasn't about to do anything with her, not when she was like this. All I knew was that at that moment, she was quietly crushing my heart, and killing me in the harshest way possible.

"I don't want Sandy. Just you." I'm sure that there were tears at this point. I hated what she was doing, and a part of me wanted to just throw her off me and run away. But another part of me, wanted to hold her tight and kiss her in a way that she would never be by any other person.

"We can start all over again. You can be my first, and we can go back in time like it never happened." She was whispering the words that I always wanted to hear. She was speaking the dreams I had used to have almost each night. And I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to react. My entire body was shaking, and I was gripping my hands at my side, trying my best not to touch her, not to lose the control I'd worked so hard to maintain.

She pulled away from me and she looked at me straight in the eye. I felt my hear stop beating for the second time that day. I could smell the alcohol in her breath, but that barely even registered in my mind at the time. It was the look that she was giving me that had me so enthralled. I didn't know it. I had never seen her look to me in that fashion before, and it scared me so much.

There was a sense of interest in her eyes, and about another fifty different emotions that I couldn't quite place. I wanted to know what they were. I wanted to know what was in her eyes that were telling me that she was "interested".

It wasn't long though before her eyes grew darker, screaming lust and passion towards me. If I was breathing, I didn't know it. My legs were jelly under me, and there were still tears running down my cheek. She didn't notice them though, and just looked to me with the same lustful look.

"I love you." Those were the next words that left her mouth.

Time stopped. Not like before when it slowed down, it just stopped. It completely paused and I heard the words repeat in my head, over and over again. What I hated most, was that I looked her in the eyes and I didn't know if she was lying or not. I couldn't tell is she was telling the truth like I usually was able to.

I had said those words in the mirror before, pretending it was her instead of my own reflection. Now, it seemed like it was the other way around. My head was screaming at me to hold her tight, to never let her go, to capture her and make her mine. My heart was gasping for breath, trying it's best to keep beating, telling me in between gasps of breath that this wasn't real, that it was all an illusion.

"No, you don't." My heart won out, surprisingly. "You're just drunk right now, and you don't know what you're saying, and in the morning, you'll forget all about this."

I had to clench my teeth in order not to sob the words out. I hated her at that moment. I hated how she made me feel. I hated how she was controlling me. I hated how I wanted so much to believe her words. I hated her.

"I do. And I know that you do too. This is what you've always wanted right? I know it is." I was doing my best not to look into her eyes, the eyes that had me so confused and dumbfounded.

But she placed her hand on my cheek and turned it around so that she could meet my eyes. I still didn't know. I didn't know if she was lying, and that made everything I thought I had known crashing down. I didn't know if she was in love with him or not. I didn't know if she ever loved me, or felt anything for me. I was confused.

"This isn't what I want." I could only whisper it out, I had no strength left.

I didn't even know if I was telling the truth. I was just doing whatever my heart was telling me, and even my heart was confused. It didn't know whether to take the opportunity, or if it would be seen as taking advantage of her.

"It is. I know it is. I know you love me, and I feel the same." At this point, I could feel what little resolve I had left crumbling.

Even if she did love me back, what about him? I didn't like the guy, but I would never be the reason for adultery. It was the one thing I hated more then anything in the world.

"What about him?" She knew who I meant when I said that. I never really called him by his name, and she knew that.

"I don't wanna talk about him." She pleaded with me. "I love you."

Each time she said those words, it was like some took a gong and struck it right beside my head. It was just so striking.

"I--" I was interrupted before I could say anything else.

"Please. Please, I'm tired of holding back. I just wanna be with you." I think it was that sentence that made me give in. She was leaned in on me, our foreheads were touching, and her mouth was just hovering over mine. "I just want to love you." That was when I finally closed the gap between us.

Maybe she didn't remember our first kiss, but I made sure that this one, she did. It was a soft pressure on a soft pressure, but it wouldn't be long before it turned into something more. I was still shaking and very insure of what I was doing, or of what was going to happen, to the point that I was still shedding tears.

Our kisses turned harsher, more bruising, tongue in each other's mouth. I don't know how long it was after that we finally pulled away and looked into each other's eyes. I was still confused and I'm sure that was reflected in them, but she looked more assured then ever.

Our mouths connected again, tasting each other with each passing second. My arms had found themselves wrapped around her tightly, and I was pressing my body into hers. I stood up off the chair, her legs wrapped around me and I moved over to the bed.

I was on top of her, and I knew what would happen next. I kept telling myself that it wasn't a dream, that I was finally about to show the person I loved more then anything exactly how much she meant to me.

I hated myself. I hated myself for what I was doing. I hated myself for closing the gap, and for touching her, and holding her. I hated myself just as much as I hated her at that moment. I hated myself because I didn't even know. I didn't know if she really meant those words. I didn't know if she actually loved me.

I spent the entire night, not knowing. I did it though. I showed her exactly how much I loved her, how much I craved for her. The funny part is, she topped me first. You would think that the girl knew nothing of lesbian sex, but she seemed so skilled in the art. Every touch was gentle and seemed right. It made me hate myself more, made me more confused. I wanted to scream, and I did. I screamed out her name as loud as I could. In a sense, I wanted the whole world to know what she was doing to me, to profess our love to the world.

The pitiable fact though is that I cried. Can you imagine it? I was crying throughout most of the experience. Whether it be out of pleasure, a part of me cried because I was scared that I would wake up and not see her beside me.

We fell asleep and she was there in my arms. I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to watch her like I usually did in order to make sure that it wasn't a dream. Too bad exhaustion caught up with me. She looked so gorgeous with the light reflecting off her beautiful skin, and her hair was splayed out on the pillow.

The next morning, she wasn't beside me. I looked around frantically. I remember thinking and wondering if it had all been a dream. If none of it actually happened. I quickly found myself on the verge of tears before I heard the running water. I got up, using the sheets as my clothing and walked over to the bathroom to see it occupied.

I let out the biggest sigh of relief. She hadn't left me, and the moment, that was all that mattered. I went back to the room cause I heard her cell phone ringing so I answered it for her. I guess now that I shouldn't have. Though, it probably wouldn't have made a difference.

When I answered the phone, I was hit by the sound of a loud voice.

"Are you okay?! Where are you?! You didn't do anything crazy, right?! Oh, I'm so sorry for what happened…" I stood gaping at the different moods I had just heard. I knew who it was. It was one of her closest friends. She was a nice girl, and she didn't even mind me being okay.

"She's fine." I told her on the phone, and I could tell she wasn't so shocked to hear my voice.

"Oh, Thank God!" She let out. "I was scared that she did something stupid and crazy." I had to let out a soft chuckle at that. She was always a good friend to have if you wanted a laugh.

But, it didn't take long before another thought came to me.

"And why do you think that she would do something stupid and crazy?" I meant to be a joking question, it didn't up being one.

"Well, she got completely hammered last night, duh!" I let out another soft chuckle. She was funny, that I had to admit.

"Really? I don't think so. She seemed fine to me, actually seemed like she drank less then usual."

"I don't believe that. Besides, that girl can probably control her level of drunkness with all of the skills she's got." I had to admit, it was a possibility. "And how could she be fine?"

I had to frown at this slightly. "Why wouldn't she be fine?" I didn't like that she was implying that there was something wrong with her on the night that she confessed her love to me.

"Well, you wouldn't be fine if your boyfriend of two years that you're in love with broke up with you in front of everyone. Though in your case, it'd be girlfriend.-" She was still talking, but I had already dropped the phone.

He broke up with her. That was the only thing running through my mind. And it didn't take long for me to realize that it all made sense. Why she did what she did. I was nothing more then a stupid rebound.

I had collapsed on the floor to my knees. I could still hear my friend's voice on the phone before she finally hung up. Everything was going so fast, and I was trying to make sense of it all.

I stood up on my legs. I still don't know how I was capable of doing that, but I did. I managed to walk all the way to the bathroom, and I just stood in front of the door. I leaned my head on the door, my heart was slowly breaking, and I was trying to find an excuse for it to hold on, trying to find some hope that it wasn't what I thought.

I started to hear something. I knew what it was when I first heard it, and I collapsed for the second time on the floor. She tried to drown it out using the loud sounds of the shower, but I could still hear it. I could hear her cry and sob. I felt as though I could hear every tear drop fall down on her face. And I gave up all hope. All hope that she loved me, all hope that last night was real, because hearing her cry, made me realize that it obviously wasn't.

I was nothing more then a fling to her. I was just to get her mind off of him.

I was on the floor, crying silently myself, telling myself that I was the biggest idiot in the world for believing that she could actually love me back.

It wasn't long before she finished her shower. By then, I was off the floor and fully dressed. I felt embarrassed by my own assumptions. I felt embarrassed that something I promised myself I would never let happen, did, just because she said a few sugar coated words. I felt weak, but I wouldn't anymore.

I was standing at the window, looking outside when she came into the room. I could feel her eyes on me, and I'm guessing that she must have been surprised to see me awake because she hurriedly starting getting her things. The action only assured my assumptions more.

"This was a mistake." That's what she said. She told me that it was a mistake. She told me that I was a mistake. And she was right.

"You're right." I tried to come off as strong, but it didn't work. I had a cracked voice, and a crumbling resolve.

I heard her stop all of her movements and I felt her eyes on the back of my head, burning holes in me.

I turned around, and our eyes met.

I saw the guilt in her eyes, as she stared into my own despair filled ones. I'm sure that she was in pain as well, but I didn't care.

"But it wasn't just this." I told her, trying to talk through the shedding tears. "All of it was a mistake."

I managed to put one foot in front of the other and I left the room. I could feel her trailing behind me.

"Ashley?" She called out questionably.

I walked down the stairs and she continued to follow. "Ashley? Ashley? Ashley?" She kept quietly calling out the word, like it would stop me. The way she said was almost as though she was in a trance.

"Ashley? Ashley? Where are you going? Ashley?" Her voice seemed so lost, but I knew that I couldn't be the one to guide her. We've already established that.

"Ashley, wait! Ashley? Ashley, where are you going?" I continued my way through the large mansion, until I was at the front of the house. I opened the door, looking back to her one last time.

"Bye Spence."

She was still calling out my name when I left. I got into my car and started driving; all I could hear was her fading voice continuously calling out my name. I didn't want to look back anymore. I didn't want to be used anymore. I love her, but I hate the way she made me feel.

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Okay, so please review. Actually, I want to know if people like the story, because I'm considering writing an extended version to it, with a continuation to the story, that will clear up the end.

So, if you like this as it is, then say so. If you feel that's it's good, but would like an extended version, then review and tell me. I won't do it if people don't want it.