Page 49 of How We Began

The words sat there, and my brain took an embarrassing amount of time to make them assimilate into something that made sense. Made a final and desperate sort of sense.

“Oh,” said Meredith and her gaze met mine, sympathy in its depth.

I couldn’t think of anything to say at all. So I just got up and left, a frog in my throat and my legs doing the Elvis wobble.

My heart probably beyond repair.

7th January

(8.30 a.m.)

I went for an early morning workout.

I couldn’t sleep last night, so figured I’d have a quick workout before heading back to class. It's a new term today, new subjects and all.

The only thing I could think was: He won’t be here.

He won’t be here.

Next year I’ll be here, and he won’t. He’ll be somewhere else. Without me.

I pounded away for half an hour on the treadmill. Seems I do my best thinking whilst exercising. Except today. When I could think of nothing at all apart from that one fact reverberating round and round in my mind.

He won’t be here.

In lectures Ben still sat behind me. We walked into class together, but he didn’t ask why I left the bar last night and I didn’t ask him to stay. What I really wanted to do was fall at his feet, and beg him to give me another chance.

I feel like I’m sleepwalking through a nightmare I’ve created for myself.

After class, when it was just Mer and me, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. It bubbled to the surface like a volcano that wanted to erupt. It went a little like this…

“Are you going to eat salad forever?” she asked. “I want to be supportive, but I’m kind of missing wine and chips.”

“I love salad. It’s my favourite.”

She chuckled at my obvious lie, but then her smile dropped. “Well, you don’t want to go to crazy, even though you look great at the moment.”

I stuck my tongue out at her outrageously gorgeous red-headed perfection.

“I can’t believe that Ben won’t be here next year.” Yep, that’s my friend Meredith, always straight to the heart of things.

“Me, neither,” I said, and just like that my eyes began to swim with burning hot tears. “It really is going to be over. I mean, I know it is anyway, but at least at the moment he’s still around.” I took a deep breath and tried to speak around the sobs building in my chest. “But when he leaves, I know there’ll be little chance I’ll ever see him again.”

She watched me, eyes calculating. “How do you feel?”

“How does it look like I feel?” I asked as I wiped my snot on my sleeve. “Like I want to curl up and die.”

“You should probably tell him that.”

“What’s the point? He’s already going and I don’t want to be the one who tries to make him stay.”

Meredith let out a long groan. “There is seriously no helping you. Just tell him.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, folding my arms resolutely, conversation over.

(Later)

Salmon, salad, and new potatoes for dinner. Expertly prepared, not by me. I’m going to bloody starve next year, there’s no doubt about it.