So, I know it might be cliché and all, but the idea of a boy, this boy in my bedroom made me feel like a damsel in distress. My life was the tower and I had been locked away for far too long. Now that my prince had finally arrived, I was ready for him. I was ready to be with him.
I began to see the future—my future—with Eli. It was perfect in my mind. I saw every detail of our lives together. I could clearly see forever in my indistinct vision. It began with this night, this first night together. Our relationship would be permanently sealed with this act of passion and love.
It was all becoming very lucid to me: this was the beginning of forever.
It was difficult to articulate just how much I loved Eli.
Yes, love.
Not a word I threw around freely, but for Eli, I could make an exception. I loved everything about him, every little detail. His smile was so refreshing to me that I could never seem to halt the short intake of breath I let in when he flashed his gorgeous teeth in my direction.
God, I think he was perfect.
He sat down on my bed, and gazed around my room.
My baby blue room.
My deplorable baby blue room.
Immediately I felt my cheeks rouge. I should have been more prepared for this! I should have known that this inevitable onset of embarrassment was just waiting to emerge. But of course, I never thought through things when it came to Eli. I may as well have been completely brain dead when I was around him.
To be honest, my room was downright pathetic looking. If I had been a normal teenager, I would have already rearranged the furniture in my bedroom. I would have hung up posters on the walls, and filled my room with photographs of the new me.
Obviously I was still living in 1999, because my bedroom looked like a five-year-old's.
The room reflected the person I used to be quite well, actually. The walls were a light blue color with sheer white curtains that fell from the ceiling framing my window.
I had a shelf filled with only stuffed animals, and a bookcase with Fortnight books and fake flowers.
My room was more or less cute.
Normally I wouldn't care about my obvious lack of style and "teen-ness," but tonight, I didn't want to be cute. I didn't want to be 'Saint Clare' either. I wanted to be damn sexy.
"So," I began raising my eyebrows for emphasis, "what do you think?"
"I think you live in the 'My Little Pony' stable," Eli said with a laugh, "but I also think that you are the most adorable human being I have ever met."
Adorable.
That's the same fucking thing as cute. Great.
I decided to step things up. His eyes were distracting me again. Why was he always so distracting?
I sat down next to him on my bed and reached for his face.
He smirked a little and stared at me. So distracting…
Slowly, I leaned in to kiss him, batting my eyelashes the whole time. He didn't protest, and I began gaining confidence fast.
That's the thing about kissing someone. The longer you kiss them, the more confident you become. All the second-guesses flutter away, and you're left with only bliss.
I leaned forward a little more, pressing him down on my mattress. I loved this. I loved him. There were no other thoughts in my mind other than my mission. The mission. All I could see were images of Eli and I together and how perfect it would be.
Simply immaculate.
My hasty mind was racing much faster than my body could keep up with, and before I knew it, I found myself attempting to close that burdening gap.
I was becoming tenacious, and he knew it. He was playing with my hair while we kissed, twirling the soft curls in and out of his fingers. I felt so at peace with him. I wanted to give him everything. I would give away everything I had to him if only I could keep having moments like these.
Beautiful moments.
Breathtaking moments.
Intent on making the first night of forever count, I sat up and started to take off my shirt, trying to look sexy.
Why did I wear a button-down today? Jesus! The buttons were impossible to get undone! Had this thoughtless process always been this difficult? Hurry up, buttons, hurry up!
My internal monologue was broken by a voice. His voice.
"Clare."
"M-hm?" I hummed, still fumbling with my blouse, trying not to waste any more time than I already had. Hurry hurry hurry!
"Clare, stop."
"Seriously, Eli, I've got this. I can do it. I'm really sorry it's taking so long. It's only going to be one more second—"
"Clare!" He cut me off, much more forcefully than before.
I turned my head to face him, this time. What? I tilted my head to the side a little and gave him a quizzical look.
"We're not doing this," he stated. His eyes had become hard. They weren't so distracting anymore. In fact, they almost scared me a little.
Eli had sat up by now and was rubbing his hands together uncomfortably. Why was he so distressed?
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
My mind was drawing blanks. Where was the issue? We were in love, I was willing, and he was here. I couldn't see anything wrong with our circumstances, so why did he insist on halting our progress? Our forever?
"I'm not going to have sex with you." Ever? What was this crap? I was dumbfounded. Utter disbelief.
"Are you kidding?" I was willing. I was ready. Why the hell could this not happen? There was not one conceivable reason I could think of that was stopping him right now.
Eli shook his head back and forth and I watched his shaggy ink colored hair brush past his forehead. His eyes were still hard and uninviting, like they had been when he was hiding his secret about Julia from me. But this time, I could tell something was different. He still looked deeply conflicted, but now there was no apology. There were only muted undertones of struggle and hostility.
The horrific truth of the situation came flying at me full speed.
Eli didn't want me.
Not like I wanted him, at least. Not like how I wanted to make him mine forever. He didn't want this perfect future I had prematurely planned. Nor did he even want me for himself in the present.
It was me that he was refusing.
The words that scattered throughout my brain began to form sentences. My mind read them to me, these taunting sentences that only furthered my state of shock.
He doesn't love you.
He hates you.
He wants someone else.
He doesn't love you.
You love him.
You tried…
And failed.
You lose.
He doesn't love you.
He doesn't love you.
He doesn't love you.
The sentence started to repeat itself over and over again, like a terrible merry-go-round that refused to stop torturing me until I broke.
He doesn't love you. Repeat.
He doesn't love you. Repeat.
He doesn't love you. Repeat.
By the time I allowed the words to take me over, I didn't just break.
I fucking snapped.
"Get out," I said firmly.
His brow furrowed. "What?"
"Eli. Get out." I was angry now. So angry. Who was he to take this away from me? Who was he to play with my emotions all this time, if he was just going to break it off before things got too serious? He was an awful human being. How could I love such a sadist?
"Clare, I don't—"
"Shut up," I cut him off. The words felt like vinegar leaving my tongue, but my whole body felt terrible anyway, so who even cared? "Leave, okay? Just go."
"Wait, Clare, listen to—"
"Listen?" I spat. "No, you listen. This," I said, pointing between us, "is done. Now get out of my fucking house, Eli."
He was awestruck. I had never cursed out loud before, especially in front of him. There was nothing to say; nothing to reconcile the fact that he didn't have the same emotions for me that I had for him. They were two different loves, his and mine; far too different for us to stand a chance. Why did I even bother?
He sighed and stood up. He walked over to the window before looking back at me. This time, I was the one to deliver the heartless expression. I shot him a look of pure enmity. With that, he tuned to the window, and climbed out, without so much as a goodbye. I preferred his exit without a farewell. It made this whole experience just a little less painful.
And with that, he was gone.
I lay back on my bed, looking up at the stars painted on my ceiling. They began to move and dance and play. Freely, they shot across the night sky, emotionless and ignorant. How I wished to be a star. A meaningless, dime-a-dozen star.
Oh, God, I already was that.
As the night continued, the implications of my fight with Eli started to sink into my conscious stream of thought. What hurt the most about this night wasn't the obvious and harsh rejection. It was the finality of our forever. Our love was over before it even began; it had never even stood a chance.
The anger and hurt and sadness that consumed me all rolled into one general and terrifying emotion that made my blood boil and my hair stand on edge. I needed to get out of here. I needed to run for a little bit ad escape all my problems. Staying in this house would be torture. What I needed was an escape.
And where does one go when her life is too messed up to fix? Where she can forget all of her problems and become numb?
Well, I could only think of one place. I grabbed my sweater, and headed for the window.
As I swung my leg over to the balcony, I carefully tossed my feelings for Eli back in my bedroom where they couldn't hurt me.
Not tonight.
NOTE: I think you all know where our beloved Saint Clare is going. Questions? Comments? Concerns? Reviewreviewreview.