Page 105 of Kissing is the Easy Part
He squeezes my fingers, a little tighter than usual. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
I glance up at him and feel dirty. I don’t deserve him because he’s too perfect.
Chapter Thirty-six
Sean
It’s bad. And then it gets worse.
After our fight outside the storage room, Flora and I manage a few days of peaceful silence, no raised voices. Now she’s lying next to me in my room, and I push her hair back to kiss her neck. She lifts her eyes and says, “I love you so much, I’m falling apart.”
Oh no.
She pulls the duvet off and stands up from the bed. “I’m not cool anymore. I’m clingy, moody, and on the verge of tears all the time. When you’re not here, I mope around waiting for you to come back. You’ll stop loving me eventually, and I’ll die a slow, painful death.”
The changes she mentions are more obvious day by day, but I stay quiet for selfish reasons. I can’t lose her. “You’re still the same. Overly dramatic.”
She’s miserable. It’s a plain, sad fact. Despite my intensive watering, this jasmine flower is withering right before my eyes.
She runs her fingers over items from my desk, but her eyes don’t focus. “Are you getting tired of me?”
“Not at all.”
She picks up the postcard from the science museum. It readsOnce upon a time you made a girl ridiculously happy.
“Flora, the best moments of my life have been with you. You’re everything I want.”
At this moment, she drops the line to break my heart. It’s not unexpected, but still hurts, and I let it sink in without defense.
“It’s like I’m channel surfing. Even when I’m watching one channel, I’m wondering what else is on and what I’m missing. I hate myself when I’m with you.”
What stings the most is that she’s not trying to hurt me. For a second, I’m too choked to answer.
“You feel like that because you haven’t found what you want to watch,” I say. “If you did, you’d be fixated. You wouldn’t want to miss a second. That’s how I feel with you.”
Her eyes lock with mine. Time stands still, until she throws her arms around me, her wool sweater rubbing against my face, and everything starts moving forward again at a mind-numbing pace. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
The truth is lying naked before me. She claims I’m her destination, but she prefers the journey. The trailer lured her in, but now that she’s discovered the movie isn’t as interesting as she anticipated, she’s forcing herself to sit through the whole thing.
“Please don’t break up with me,” she says between sobs. “You can’t break up with me because I saidonestupid thing.”
Forever is no longer the dream. She should be set free, but I’m too weak to let go. I’ll wait until she’s ready to leave me. “I won’t break up with you.”
We’re a radioactive isotope destined to break apart. No matter how much energy I pour into keeping us together, the decay is inevitable.
“Let go on a trip together,” she says, voice still unsteady. “During Christmas. Three days together.”
“Anything you want,” I say.
* * *
Flora wants to go to Paris.Three days in Paris? Seriously, who does that?I suggest a road trip, hitting up delis, eating gas station nachos, and cranking the music. She says motel bed linens will give her a rash and that she can’t stay anywhere below four stars.
In the end, we settle on New York City. She might end up there for the next four years anyway.
She flops onto her bed. “You’ll come see me every weekend, right?”
“Of course.”
