Paul doesn't see the same girl twice. She knows from personal experience and she has watched him collect his jar of hearts. However, today he is in front of her begging for a second chance. He swears he is different.
Based on 'Jar of Hearts' by Christina Perri
Jar of Hearts
I can't do it. I look into his big, brown eyes imploring me to listen. This time it's different they're practically screaming at me. This time he has changed.
But I can't take one more step towards him.
All that would be waiting for me is regret.
He is good. Pretending to really see me and not looking through me like the ghost of the person I used to be.
When he dumped me, I was broken. The school counselor once described me as projecting myself to others as half alive.
My coping was extreme I'll admit.
His rich, thick voice begs me to understand.
My brain is having trouble processing he wants me one more time. Telling me that he is different. He has changed.
My emotional side is lapping this up. What I have always wanted most since he last said, "I am tired of you. We're done." It invites me to recall fond memories of our past.
He used to gaze at me with a softness I knew he only reserved for me. He used to hold my hand in stolen moments when he was sure no one was looking. He used to offer me his leather jacket on cold days. He dropped his bad boy persona in these moments.
My brain is beginning to agree with his rational. Perhaps he has reverted back to who we once fell in love with.
But when I open my mouth I yell, "Who do you think you are?"
Despite the pretty picture of the past just painted in my mind for me in bright, flowery colors, I cannot ignore the harsh, cold bitch slap of reality. For the last year, I have been on the sidelines watching him collect his jar of hearts. Dying a little more inside with each new girl after me.
Ice ran through his soul the way he traded through women. In La Push. In Forks. Throughout the entire state of Washington. I had observed no man capable of love. Only an act to seduce, use and leave you. Why had I ever believed what he showed me was love? He broke all his promises. Because they were fake. Made with dishonest intentions.
Don't come back for me.
The rumors had caught up to me before this confession. He had been asking all over school where I was since the morning. I knew his every move, his every class on a school day. But when it came to me, I had not even blipped on his radar since the break-up. Until today. On his first day back at school in over two weeks. For some cruel, twisted joke.
I am strong. I will not fall back into his arms.
"What?" Paul asks in a sharp tone, his eyes wide in disbelief. As if I am in the wrong. As if he is shocked I have anything other to say to him then "yes of course, let's get back together" without batting an eyelash.
"Who do you think you are?" I repeat in a louder voice, leaning on my inner strength.
It took so long to feel alright after the breakup. Only after six months did I begin to see the light return to my dull, listless eyes. It tends to dim when I see the next girl on his arm, but my time spent recovering between each one has reduced. The light always comes back. Eventually.
"You don't get a second chance." I could elaborate on why. Why he doesn't deserve a second chance. The damage he left on my scarred heart. But does he deserve it?
"Goodbye, Paul."
"But I imp-" he whispers dejectedly. I have no idea what he is murmuring about, but I pop on my headphones to drown out the voice I crave to hear more remorse from as I walk away.