Page 48 of The Truth About Love

But he hadn’t. Of course, he hadn’t. They weren’t gone, they were only sleeping. Waiting in the darkest shadows of my mind to jump out at me when I least expected it and ruin everything. Depression doesn’t disappear just because you meet a boy. And I’d been stupid to think any different.

But, my god, had I been so happy.

The morning after my eighteenth birthday, when we’d made love for the very first time, I didn’t think life could get any better. I was tired and sore, but every twinge of pain between my legs only served to remind me of the magic I’d experienced the night before. The incredible insanity of becoming one with the boy I love so deeply.

And every day afterwards had been just as special, just as utterly maddening.

The things that used to frighten me, like parties and making friends and actually smiling in public, didn’t bother me anymore. Once Marlowe and Tyler finally made things official between them, I even started sitting with Auden and his group of friends at lunch.

I was a completely different person than the girl I was at the start of the year.

I was sociable, untroubled,happy.

But then, just as abruptly as Auden came into my life and changed it completely, I regressed back to who I was before. It’s like for the better part of a year, I’ve been possessed by an imposter who’s lived everyday for me, going to parties and football games and making love in the back of my boyfriend’s truck.

And now whatever it was is gone.

And I’m left even worse than before. Because at least that miserable girl from September still had the capacity to feel misery. I still had emotions; they were just always the bad kind. But whatever version of myself I am now is just a vacuous void. An empty, desolate, shell of a person.

My phone dings with a text message, but I don’t read it. I know who it is. Auden’s been trying to get hold of me all night, ringing me every hour or so and leaving messages. I haven’t answered a single call.

He’s worried about me. It’s not normal for me to be so quiet. I always find time to text him back no matter how busy I am. And I know it’s not fair for me to ignore him, but talking seems too much effort right now. I don’t have the strength to make conversation. Not even with him.

I guess he deserves a text back though.

Sighing, I pick up my phone and read the most recent message.

Auden:Baby, I know something’s wrong. Do you need me to come over? I want to be there for you.

Me:No, I’m fine. Just not feeling well. See you at school tomorrow.

Auden:I love you, pretty girl. Feel better soon.

Me:Back at you, quarterback.

That’s all I can handle tonight. I toss the phone onto my bedside table and stare at the ceiling until morning.

***

School is abuzz with excited chatter as I walk through the halls to my locker. It’s early June, graduation is just around the corner and every senior I pass is talking hurriedly about their plans for ditch day and summer vacation.

Back when things were better, Auden and I had talked about driving up to Sunshine City and sleeping every night in the bed of his old Chevy underneath the stars. We were going to see the Sunken Gardens, pretend to care about art at the Dalí Museum and eat pistachio ice cream for breakfast every day. We’d been so excited about it.

But I’m not sure I want to go anymore.

I doubt he’d still want to go with this version of me anyway.

At lunch, I sit at Auden’s table with him and his friends, surrounded by laughter and preppy smiles, our hands clasped together on my lap, his thumb brushing circles over mine. But the sounds of their conversations blur together as if I’m listening to them through glass or while standing in another room.

I may as well not be here.

They’d all prefer it if I went away, I can see it in their shifting eyes and snarly lips.

We all just want me to disappear.

And that’s how the rest of the week passes. Auden tries to include me in conversations I can’t even hear while I struggle through every lunch period with my teeth clenched, wishing I would turn to ash and scatter away in the wind.

It’s another week of the same before Auden addresses the issue. We’re sitting cross-legged on my bed sharing a family pack of chips while we stare at the television mounted on my wall, neither of us actually watching whatever cartoon comedy is playing.

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