Twelve messages. The rest, I barely acknowledge it. All I can think of is the future. Not even right now, not even the past, but what’ll happen between Jules and me. His messages seem furious, desperate, claiming that I mustn’t act this way, that I keep doing us so selfishly, and yet...I don’t know what I’ve done, but I have the feeling there’s something wrong about me again. He snapped. Like this, unexpectedly. I don’t know why, but something shifted inside him. And I haven’t done anything, from what I remember doing. I feel like I can’t breathe, like my heart is a weight I’m trying to lift and that I keep dropping, and it drops to my stomach. My head is ringing, my thoughts are spinning, and I can’t stop myself from shutting my eyes and trying to get the situation the right way-if there is one, of course.

“We should take a break, Nor.” He typed in all lower-case letters, adding too many dots at the end, which reveals a reluctant side to his thoughts, “You don’t treat me like your boyfriend anymore. I don’t seem worthy of you. Or it might be the contrary, I don’t know. What do you think?”

What do I think? Is he seriously considering asking me this or is this rhetorical? Fuck, I don’t know what to reply, I don’t want to take a break, I don’t want to stop feeling…loved. That was the only way I found to get some happiness after my mother’s death. I’m not using him, but now I feel like I’m holding onto him as he’s the last hope. There’s my father, too, the girls. But I like him too dang much. We can’t quit right now, can we? Well, yes, yet I can’t phrase it this way. I don’t have any excuses now, and I haven’t lied but…I know Jules’s right.

I’ve never considered before that we could’ve stopped this anytime. Quit it as brutally, tearing apart my second relationship. When he came and clearly showed me that he was better than Dylan used to, I felt so much better, and I never thought I’d have issues with that again. Love. What a stupid word anyway. It’s always there to mess me up, and even though he’s not a liar like that stupidly handsome black-haired guy, Jules wants to take a break. I hate it when they suggest to “take a break,” because, man, you either stop it right there and cut off the pain or pause it for a while and come back, losing feelings or making it even more complicated. Do you want to keep this alive or to burn it to the ground? I don’t get the logic. If he loves me, why don’t we simply talk?

I prefer the option, to be honest, and I believe it’s the smartest one. I’d like to talk to him, sort things out. It would get the pieces all stitched up together again. And voilà, problem solved. But for someone like me, easier said than done. What am I supposed to say? I’m sorry? Yes, somehow, though I’d have to insist on the things I’ve done so he believed I truly am. I can’t just say “I’m sorry” because I’ll look like I’m trying to get rid of it. I must be honest, in front of him, because I know he sees right through me. I can’t just look like a foolish idiot Ann-Marie wannabe seemingly wanting to walk to popularity and steal it away. If I look too sappy or anxious, he’ll think I’m like her and he’ll never give love a second chance again. Neither to me nor anyone else.

That’s not about jealousy. Well, yes, but not completely. I find this unfair how you keep going past me as if I didn’t exist, as if I’m just a ghost, or may I dare, as if you only use my status as a relationship.

With the way he said it, it looks even worse. Right now, he’s saying that I’ve been giving the “old new” girl more attention and that I keep going past him as if I was using the fact that he’s quite popular for his looks on my advantage to make him “mine.” That’s right, I did ignore him-accidentally, of course- but never would I use someone for the cost of chasing pretty and popular when I know what it feels like, to be rejected. I can’t even imagine how he’d feel after being used by this barbie, must be indifferent in a way, since he never had feelings for her, but he didn’t trust love at the time. To be completely honest, I agree and understand why he didn’t try it back then.

I join my knees against my chest on the passenger seat, not even bothering to care of the safety. My father throws me a glance, but he doesn’t seem to mind. More cars rush over, and then we’re stuck in the traffic, and I can’t help it, I start thinking of mom again. She wouldn’t be proud of me, freaking out like this. I should be ashamed. She always said that the most important thing is life, before I ever start something, is to love myself and to make sure to believe in something. It’s the only thing she asked, and I can’t even do this for her honor. But how can I, when I know that my reactions are foolish, that my heart is demolished and not enough people here to warm me? I can’t ever love myself if I keep making myself believe the contrary.

How can I believe in something when the odds aren’t in my favour? When there’s always something there to ruin my day, when nobody would ever want to be with me? When the only manner I made myself friends is through a friend from primary school? And of course, primary school, way easier to get friends, since you’re shameless and all! Nobody would want to be my friend if they saw how paranoid I am, ha-ha, of course! I’m so worthless. Dylan didn’t want me, Jules surely doesn’t.

“Nora?”

I snap out of it, my vision getting less blurry, though I can still feel the ringing in my ear. I look at him distractedly, my heart pounding like a drum as I’m shaking. Hard. Fuck, what’s happening to me? I feel my breathing getting slightly heavier, biting my lip nervously as I can’t utter a single word. I try to say something, but it comes out hollow, with a choked cry.

“What? My life is so fucking ruined. Jules will leave me. Avery will see how foolish I am…A-and-and...”

“Woah, Nora, stop.” Stephan says, his voice calm yet a little panicked as he grabs my hand, his eyes wide, not sure how to console me, “Explain yourself to me, I want to help you. I will help you. Please, say something. I feel like you haven’t been telling me all the truth lately after you promised you’d say everything to me. You don’t tell Avery a lot either, do you?”

“Not really. I do, but sometimes I don’t expect the feelings to be this deep as I hide them. Sometimes, I don’t even know how bad it is until I start crying. I hate this. I hate myself.” I swallow hard, letting out a small whimper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetie. Anxiety is part of everyone, and you’ve been going through a lot-with your mother that died.” He pauses, suddenly thinking of her again, though he doesn’t show this face quite often, “Are you sure you’re alright? With the way you broke into tears and had that overreacting face, I doubt you’re okay.”

“I’m fine dad.” I blurt out, my voice harsher and louder than intended, a tremolo in my voice as my left hand starts to shake in my dad’s, my heart bursting out of my chest as I feel like my breathing stopped entirely, tears threatening to spill over.

“No, you’re not.” My father states firmly, even after he asked beforehand, “You clearly aren’t. Listen up, Nor-Nor, you’re having a panic attack. Try to take some deep breaths, alright? You’re here, with me? Nothing bad’s going to happen—”

“Dad, press the pedal!”

Bang. Airbag in my face, tears trickling along my cheeks as I feel the impact. My father’s head fell on the driving wheel, but he looks okay. It calms down slightly, yet my back hurts terribly. I remain silent, stuck in a trance, my eyes glazed over and empty as my father takes care of me and brings me back home. I don’t even know what happened. He told me the car was going too fast and hit the back of our car, and that he’ll take care of it. But that’s not the point. Why on earth did God decide to make this happen in that situation, with me freaking out and believing I can’t be helped? Was it a message from destiny telling me to fuck off and that I was a mistake in God’s creation? Perhaps. And even though I still believe those thoughts from earlier, I don’t want to die. I have too much to live for. Am I counting Jules? No clue.