Dear Zara,

I don’t really feel so well. I mean I guess this journaling stuff works for you, so might as well try it myself. My mom has noticed something is up with me.

“Talk to me, you’ve been out of it since you went to the mall a few days ago. Don’t close in on yourself again.” She brushed my hair out of my face.

“Mom I saw Zara,” I told her.

She stopped.

I stayed looking at my twiddling hands, still unable to look into her eyes.

She must be so ashamed of me. Ashamed of the daughter who slept with her stepsister. I must be disgusting to her. There is no way she could ever understand it.

“We didn’t talk, or even say hi. But I saw her.” I went on before she could draw the wrong conclusion.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” She stood up to leave.

Tell me you love me anyway. Tell me that what I am feeling is normal. Tell me Zara wasn’t right about you, that you don’t hate her. Don’t just walk away, stop running away from me.

“Did you love her?” she paused by the door.

I looked at her then. She was staring at me with concern and fear.

She is afraid of the answer. Afraid I’ll say yes.

I had to look away again. She sighed and walked out of the room, not waiting for me to say what she already knows.

I wonder what you would say if you were here. If they hadn’t found out I wonder if we could have gotten back together. I guess you were right all along, they wouldn’t understand.

All I can think about is you, about what I said to you. Why did I say those things?

*Ding*

My phone lit up with a notification. I glanced over it and a new message popped up. I thought it might be Allen. God, why is he so clingy? Isn’t it usually the girl's job to be clingy? I’m gonna break up with him, we don’t go well together, he just gets on my nerves.

The other day that idiot asked if I was into a threesome. Ugh! Then he got all jealous when he caught me checking that girl out. Which is it? Threesome or keep my eyes and hands to myself? You can’t have both.

I grabbed the phone but it wasn’t Allen. To my surprise, it was Blythe. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since before everything blew up. Last time we spoke she was calling to check on you.

I clicked open the message.

Hey, I know it’s been awhile. I don’t even know If this is still your number. If it is then I just wanted to tell you, you need to talk to Zara. She is doing great by the way, not that you care. But the only thing stopping her from being happy is her guilt towards you. It is seriously pissing me off. So just do me a favor and tell her off one last time so we can all be done with you.

Ps. She told me everything you said to her that day, if I ever catch you around I will fuck you up. That is not a threat, that is a promise.

-Blythe.

I stared at the message until my eyes hurt. Then I set my phone down. She wants me to talk to you, how can I talk to you after everything? I said all those horrible things. No way you want to see me.

‘okay. I’ll talk to her…’ I replied.

I stared at the screen until she replied back.

‘Don’t fuck her up again, I’m warning you. Just say your final peace and be done with it. Here is her address.’

Then she sent another message with the address. My heart skipped a beat. I now know where you are. I now can see you whenever I want.

Even so, I can’t.

My heart hammers in my chest at the anxiety of having to see you again. My mouth gets dry and I feel like I could have a panic attack at any second. I’m scared of what you will say to me.

I got up and walked out of my room. Your room is still intact. Just the way you left it. Your dad refuses to go in and touch any of your stuff lest he be contaminated. He still can’t look at me or even be in the same room as me for more than a few minutes. I wish he would just dump my mom already.

I took a step into your room and for a second I saw you laying on your bed, reading a book. Your glasses just barely hanging on your nose. Your feet in the air kicking and swaying. Your eyes scan the page and you have no idea I am watching you. You scoff at something you’ve read, shaking your head before turning the page. You look so cute. Then you notice me and set the book down, disappearing into nothingness.

I took another step and you are no longer on the bed, you are standing by the nightstand smashing the diary into the ground over and over. Your expression crumbles when you notice me. Then you disappear, but not before a horrible ache forms in my chest.

I took another step.

This time you are laying on your bed laughing, a big wide smile on your face. You look at me with a sparkle in your eyes. Your teeth twinkle in the light. Why are you haunting me? A tear slid down my cheek. I crossed the room and sat on your bed.

I could feel you sitting next to me, imagining you looking at me with pain on your face.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

You are looking at me just like you looked at me that day.

Why did I say those awful things? I wish I could take them all back. They are not true, none of them are. I was scared and panicking. I was stupid. I should have told the truth. I should have just grabbed you and kissed you. Told you I loved you. Told you I wasn’t going to let them separate us.

But I was so mad at you. You just make me so, so, ugh!

Why didn’t you say hi to me at the mall? I was standing right there, why didn’t you say anything? Who was that girl with you?

Why are you so indecisive? Why was it so hard to pick me over Blythe? If you loved me it should have been easy. If you loved me you would have never cheated on me. If you loved me why did you leave me? Why was I not enough? Why did you have to have Blythe too? You used me to fill her needs but never once did you ask me what I needed. You are such a hypocrite.

Why can’t I just move on!? Forget about you!? You were horrible to me, you used me, you didn’t even love me. You cheated on me, you brought me down, forced me to be the one that kept you alive. I had to watch everything I did and said in case I accidentally pulled the trigger to the gun in your hands. You destroyed me, so why? Why do I feel so guilty? Why am I the one who has to end it once and for all?

It’s not fair. 

What if I send you over the edge again? I can’t live with that, I can’t be the one that gets you killed. If you are doing great as Blythe says then you don’t need me. I am the last thing you need. I want it to be over. I want to be able to move on, really move on not just pretend.

I don’t want to think of you every time I kiss someone. I don’t want to wonder about what you would say if you could see the person I’m dating. I want you to stop coming to me in my dreams and shouting at me, cussing me out and calling me a hypocrite. I want to forget about everything, I want to forget how you make me feel, forget what your lips feel and taste like, forget your touch, the sound of your voice. The sparkle in your eyes.

Ahh!!!

It won’t stop, it will never stop. There is only one way to make it stop. So I grabbed my phone and ran back to my room, slipping my shoes on. I got to do this before I chicken out.

                                                                 ***