Page 56 of Don't Leave Me

“I’m sorry,” I shook my head, my heart feeling like it had just been thrown on the hard wooden floor beneath our feet.

He removed his arm from around my shoulder and rested his elbows on his knees as he looked down at the floor. I could see him shaking his head to himself but I was still too afraid to look at him.

There were tears forming in my eyes as I looked down at my shaky hands. “Do you not love me?”

He sighed a little bit before he put his head to his hands. “I don’t know how I feel, Hana,” he answered, his voice strained.

I immediately felt tears streaming down my face; my feelings were not only hurt…they were shattered. Here I was, exposing my feelings to him and he wouldn’t even open up, he wouldn’t let me in. He was pushing me away, and I knew it. And I wasn’t going to force him to love me – he either did or he didn’t.He clearly doesn’t. I’m wasting my time.I stood up, wiping my tears with the back of my hand as I grabbed my coat from the arm of the couch.

“Hana, where are you going?” I heard him ask as I headed to the door.

I shook my head as I turned to look at him. He looked terrified.Tell me not to go, and I won’t. Just tell me something.

“Maybe I did expect too much from you,” I shrugged, more tears falling down my face.

He looked up at me, looking completely defeated, and he was silent again. I turned and opened the door, the hole in my chest too much to bear, and walked out. I walked out into the cold December night, looking up at the clouds that were illuminated by the city lights, and flurries of snow slowly started to fall. I felt like falling to my knees and giving up. I had never felt such pain in my life before, so unwanted, so guilty.I’m such a fool. Why do I have to fuck up every good thing that comes my way? Why do I have to be so needy, so naïve, so incredibly sensitive?

I hailed a cab and it headed towards Brooklyn. I couldn’t stop sobbing; the cab driver kept silent the whole way there, probably knowing it was best that he didn’t ask questions. And I was glad because I couldn’t explain what was going on or how I felt. I just wanted to disappear. I wanted to not feel anything.

I sluggishly walked into my apartment, the concept of time lost on me. I could see the lights on in my room and I walked in, finding Emily lying in bed with her phone in her hands above her. Her eyes widened once she saw me, shooting straight up and immediately empathizing with me.

“Han, what happened?” she questioned.

I shook my head and start to bawl, my tears clouding my sight, my sobs loud and ugly. I felt her arms wrap around me as she led me onto the bed, and I spent the next hour telling her what happened and how much I hurt, how stupid I felt. She knew what to say to calm me down, stroking my hair as I listened, and I finally fell asleep, exhausted and broken.

* * *

There was still a pain in my chest when I woke up to Emily moving around in bed, getting up and moving quickly around the room. I didn’t have enough energy to even open my eyes; all I could think about was how heartbroken I felt. Why didn’t he say anything to make me feel better? He could have said anything about caring about me, or that I was moving too quickly, or even a “thank you,” with a smile on his face as a response.I’m not worth it to him. He doesn’t care that much.

“Hello?” I heard Emily’s voice, and I opened my eyes to see her looking out my window with her phone to her ear.

“Yes, this is she,” she went on after a moment.

I watched her nervously twirling her hair with one hand as a t-shirt hung off her shoulders.

“Really? That’s great news! Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, turning to me with a smile on her face.

I couldn’t help but smile back – she looked so happy.

“Okay, I’ll be there sometime this morning. Thanks again!” she responded and looked at her phone, hanging up, and then back up at me.

“I get the keys to the apartment today,” she explained, raising her eyebrows and crawling onto the bed.

I widened my eyes, trying to show any kind of emotion – I only felt like crawling into a hole and screaming until my throat was raw.

“That’s great,” I forced a smile.

She sighed and laid next to me, her eyes sympathetic and understanding.

“Why don’t you come get the keys with me? And then we can go to Philly and bring some stuff back and start celebrating,” she suggested with a smile, shrugging her shoulder.

I sighed.I have to go to work. I HAVE TO GO TO WORK. No, I can’t. I can’t face Michael right now.

“I just want to stay in bed,” I answered honestly.

“No. I won’t let you. Staying in bed and thinking about it will not make it any better,” she sat up. “But driving to Philly with me and singing loudly to the Violent Femmes and Queen will definitely help,” she smiled cleverly, almost begging me.

She had a point – staying in bed would just make me feel more sorry for myself and I would sob all day and probably jump off a building.

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