He said…

Should I feel guilty? I mean, she did start to kiss me. But I did come for comfort and this was the only way to comfort me and she knew that. But why did she seem so disappointed when I barged into her room like that? Her door was still complete. I didn't break anything and I was nice to her mother. I always was. Maybe she was PMSing? Who knows, all I know is that I won't go back to my backstabbing ex-girlfriend. I was a pushover when it came to her and my best friend told me that all the time, but I always took her back anyway. I had no idea why.

She – as in Carol, my ex – was good at batting eyelashes I guess. Or she was lucky to know that I loved her. Whatever she did, it always worked, but not this time. I won't take her back. So, as she ran into her bathroom, I stayed on her bed for a while. Maybe she'd come back out and I could apologize and we would go back to being best friends as always. I mean, if it did bother her, she'd tell me, right? I decided she would and so I left her room, wanting to give her some space. That's what I owed her. When I walked down stairs, her mother Chrissie smiled at me. I smiled back politely, and maybe a bit guilty, and walked out of the house after saying goodbye. I sighed as I got into my car.

It was late afternoon, so I didn't disturb her doing anything. Usually, she'd meet up with Jenny – her other best friend beside me – and hang out with her, but somehow today she didn't. That confused me a bit, but I shook it off and drove home. On my way back, I had time to think. Of course it was about her. It always was after I was at hers. I remembered the look she gave me when I pulled back. We made out way longer than usually. Maybe it had something to do with me, because usually I always pulled back. But this day, I actually enjoyed it. Weird.

But back to her eyes. Why did they look so loving at first and then so broken? Oh well, maybe I was imagining things. But why did she just run into her bathroom? Well, maybe she had to go to the bathroom? Oh, wait. Maybe she wanted me to wait for her? Oh, damn! But I realized that too late because I was already at my house. You see, I was emancipated for about two years now. Why? I couldn't live with my parents in one house because all Mom and Dad did was either fight or do 'grown up stuff', as they put it once. And I really didn't need to hear either of those.

My house wasn't too big, but it was big enough for me and if ever a friend needed to sleep over. Needless to say that she always did. Her parents were the very same as mine. They fought a lot, but they at least weren't living in the same house. Mine still were. That was what made it worse. But seeing it from right then, she wouldn't come over for a few days until I apologized to her. That's what she always wanted me to do. God knows why. I walked into my house and sighed.

I couldn't say it was exactly beautiful. I still had boxes everywhere, even though I've lived there for a really long time. She always complained why I never bothered to just finally unpack. I always shrugged and said 'Maybe I'll move out in the next few months?' She always rolled her eyes and said something like I was an idiot or stuff like that. I always laughed at that. I walked into my kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. I was still wondering what was up with her anyway? She never acted this bitchy whenever we did that? Yeah, she was totally PMSing.

Just as I was about to take a sip my phone rang. I looked at it. Carol, again? She'd been calling me the whole day, saying that she was sorry. Yeah right. But I decided to pick up and tell her off. I would not get together with her again. Not this day, not this time.

"What do you want, Carol?" I spat out her name as if it was some kind of poison. I heard her sigh and take in a sharp breath.

"I'm so sorry, really, I am." I rolled my eyes. It was not going to work this time. But then I heard her sobbing. She knew this got to me. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out the sobbing.

"Please, I won't do it the next time! I love you! I really do!" And after five minutes of hysterical sobbing from Carol, I hung up the phone. I didn't hang up on her. We both said goodbye at first. But it wasn't going to be our last. I wasn't sure if I should be annoyed with Carol or myself, but on this day, November 23rd, I broke up and got together with Carol again. Wait… November 23rd? I ran and checked my calendar. It was. Shit! Her birthday!