Preface
Love is complicated.
But when you have to make life decisions around that person to be with them,
Love gets really problematic.
And you think, well, how do I know?
Know what?
Falling in love?
Well, I guess, you'll know.
What if I have to choose between two?
No, there's only one.
Whether you meet them when your 10 or 40 years old.
There's no way around love.
That's why decisions can be so difficult.
Like I said.
Love is way, way too complicated!!
Chapter 1
Long...Long Night
I walked to the grave where the most important person of my life lay, motionless. Idraggedmyfeet, tears streaming down my face. I'm the last one to leave after spending hours talking to him in the pouring rain. Mom was worried, but(to my asking)left. I promised him I would come back tomorrow, knowing I wouldn't last long staying in my room, alone. I finally picked myself up off the ground. I noticed when I stood up I was numb from my head to my toes and had blisters all over my hands. Knowing me I probably had athletes foot and needed to be admitted to the hospital. But that doesn't matter I thought. I called a cab, knowing I couldn't drive at how mad I was, I might go on a rampage and starthitting objects or people. I sighed and let out a few more tears. I slid in the cab and noticed what time it was, 3:23a.m..It was a short ride-thank god-even though I thought about him in-between thinking how my mother must feel. She probably would think I was kidnaped by someone who stole corpses in the late hours of the night. I'd be strong enough to fend for myself, I think. In a surprise to myself, when I got home I ran upstairs and slammed the door shut. I locked my door, and stared at my room. It was small, but I didn't mind. There were posters everywhere of many rock bands that I fantasized of playing along with when my life started over again. Would it start over? Is this the end? Or would I just live with the guilt of not using my time more carefully. I didn't know how many deep breaths in would take to cure this emptiness I felt inside, it was like a avalanche of rocks fell on me and I couldn't breathe. Then a sudden physical emotion came up from behind me, I was exhausted. I laid in my twin-sized bed trying to sleep, and get away this feeling of tiredness so I could go see him in-... I really didn't know when I would see him again. Maybe in my dreams or if I-. NO! Damn, I never really thought ever of killing myself, but this seems to be a probable sit-. NO! I screamed, not knowing I said it out loud. My mother stormed in. I saw a certain emotion on her face. Relief. Yeah, that was it. But also stress because she didn't know if I would ever get over him and move on with my life. To break the minutes silence, she finally spoke. "Are you okay" she said. How was I supposed to answer this. What, with a "Sure, I'm great" or something like "Hey mom guess what, I'm going to kill myself to be with my 'soulmate'. Yes 'soulmate', even though my mom called us a 'young love' and my brother Dean mimicked my mom and yelled over her saying 'young lovers' like we were hiding from everyone and I secretly lost my virginity. Which just makes me think, think of how he was way too young to have died, too young for us to explore more of us. But there wasn't going to be more of us, his time, our time has run out. After what felt like an hour and almost forgetting the question my mother asked, I spoke. "I'm feel like crap". I started then, crying wasn't hard to start now-a-days. After what happened, sedatives seemed like the only solution to stop me from getting sick. It's nice to be honest with my mom even though I felt even more worse than "crap". More like someone who had their heart, soul, and knowledge about anything and everything of love being ripped away from them in an instant. Yep, that's exactly how I was feeling. But did I actually know what love was? I mean, I was only fourteen but I guess when you know that you can see that person everyday, love every part of their personality, lifestyle, and most of all their mother, and the fact that part of your heart would die if you ever saw them in pain or...underground, never to see their perfectly flawed face again, that's my version of love. I don't think that's the definition of love but that's my love, which is enough for me for a lifetime, but I can't help but being so selfish as to want more, more of his time. "Well honey, we could talk about it tomorrow". To get time alone to cry, I spoke fast. "Mom, I think it is already tomorrow" I sighed. "I guess, well you can take how much time as you need on this, honey. Goodnight, I love you". She said. "I love you too". Wow, ever since my dad died 7 years before now, I still get caught off guard by the three magical words of forever- 'I love you'. When he said 'I love you', it was genuine, like there was no other word that could describe how he felt, I believed it. When my mother said it, it was meant as a reminder that she would love me unconditionally. Now another feeling came over me. Nausea. The mental image of him laying forever in a grave, never to see sunlight again, or the millions of stars that graze the sky every night. It kills me inside. It's all my fault, no one knows it, but it's true. I shouldn't have told him. I tried to sleep it off, but I woke up a few times in the nighttime or daytime, whatever time it was, and ran to the bathroom to throw up, either it was the tears or the dinner, the last dinner I had with him the night before the accident on May 16th, 2006 at 6:54a.m.. Whenever I think about the incident, I think of how we met and the ups and downs we went through. It's 8:01a.m. and I can't sleep. Actually, blinking is hard too. Might as well reread for the 9th time, my journal, the biography or lifeline of he and I's undying love. It's the only thing that keeps him alive.
On the first page I wrote:
I always thought that falling head over heels for a guy was a hoax, but when it finally happens to you, it's all started the first day of school.
Naillie's Journal: Monday, August 15th, 2005
When I walked up to my school, I noticed it seemed different. I know, I know, being a 8th grader and seeing this building over 200 times, you would think that I would be tired of this place, I wasn't. I guess I had more experience in this place. I mean like more friends, confidence, and most of all, a boyfriend. His name is Dustin Adlam. I met him in the summer, he's nice, funny, and really sarcastic. We hit it off right away. One time we were in this summer camp thing and I was hit in the calf with a baseball and Dustin beat up the guy who he thought threw it. Turned out, he didn't throw it. The only dreadful thing I have to deal with now is that he goes to another school. My school, City Arcs Middle School is a 2 story building with a lake on the left side of the school. The distance between the school and the lake is about 3 feet and is covered with cracked, unleveled concrete. And the lake is about 10, maybe 15 feet deep. I'd hate to be the one who fell in there and got all soaking wet. The bell rang and I rushed to first period. Outside Mrs. Call's classroom, I saw snow falling down, a sure sign that winter has arrived in Fort Morgan, Colorado. Mrs. Call taught mathematics. Great. That's just what I need. Numbers at 8a.m.. That's why I thought right then and there I would run out and get my schedule changed. I'm so tired. See, when summer goes on and on, I sleep whenever I want. I'm practically nocturnal. And when the first day of school comes around, every year, I feel like sleeping in school and staying up all night. It's hard to keep my eyelids open but I know, once I get home, I'm slamming my head on my pillow and taking a big nap. Pretty much, the day passed by with no events, except for the throwing papers in Mr. Kroms' 6th Period. Ugh.