My Boring Love Story

“Will you please read it?” I begged over Mikie’s shoulder, he was watching his favorite Youtube videos. He didn’t say anything so I asked again.

“Mikie! Will you please read this?”

“Read what?” he finally said. 

“My short essay! For the writing contest! Come on, please! I could win an IPad!”

He signed loudly and spun around in his chair to face me. I handed him my essay and he grudgingly took it out of my hands. 

I watched his eyes fly back and forth across my paper. After only a few seconds he threw the paper back to me then spun around to watch the Youtube videos. 

“Boring,” he stated. 

“You didn’t even finish reading it!”

“Yes I did, I’m just a faster reader than you. Besides, you’re not going to win an IPad with that,”

I rolled my eyes and walked over to my backpack and coat. I zipped up my backpack and put my coat on. I walked out of his bedroom and started walking towards the front door when I heard Mikie spin around in his chair. 

“Oh, you’re leaving now?” He asked

“Yup!”

“Why?”

“Because. I think your stupid videos are boring.” 

“Woooooooow okayyy I see how it is. I didn’t even call your writing stupid, just boring,”

“Whatever, I’m still going home,”

“Come onnnn…”

I started walking towards the front door, he jumped out of the chair and bear hugged me from behind. 

“Commmme onnnnnn….don’t go,”

“Byeeeeeeee,” I started laughing, trying to reach the front door. 

“Nope!” He exclaimed as he picked me up and carried me back into his bedroom. He threw me on his bed and started tickling me. I started laughing and “tried” to fight him off. I told him to stop, but he knew I never meant it. 

My essay fell out of my hands and floated somewhere in his room. We started kissing and rolling around. Eventually he got up and went back on his computer. I watched from his bed.

This was our second year dating. He was my first and I thought the only boyfriend I will ever have. I was convinced that I was going to marry him. I mean, we talked about it all the time. He was the only person I loved that wasn’t an immediate family member. We were together all the time, in the hallway, in the lunchroom, outside for school,  we were that couple that always got in trouble for PDA. 

He was my first kiss, the first person I slept with, my first everything. 

I feel like I lost a lot being with him, especially that day in February.

It was freezing that day, normally he walks me home but he didn’t that night. I left his house, when I realized I forgot my notebook. I turned around and started walking back. When I got there, I saw a skinny girl with bright pink hair getting out of her car and walking up to Mikie’s front steps. Mikie stepped out of the front door and caught the pink haired girl as she jumped in his arms. He squeezed her tight, took a step back, then they embraced in a long deep kiss. The longest, most heart wrenching kiss I have ever seen. I was paralized with disbelief. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My throat started to swell and my eyes burst with tears. 

I didn’t know what to do, except bawl and stand there. 

They stopped kissing and she went inside. He looked around and looked right at me. His eyes grew wide when he saw me standing there. I thought he was going to come by me. He didn’t. He shrugged his shoulders, mouthed the word, “sorry” then followed her inside. 

It felt like the entire world just came crashing down on me, like someone took a shotgun and blew my body to pieces. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. 

I called my mom and cried the entire way home. She was standing outside, waiting for me. I kept saying over and over again, “He has-s a girlfriend-d, he was-s c-c-cheating, I thought he loved-d me-e-e” over and over holding onto my mom. 

I tried calling him all night. I was about to walk back over there but my mom didn’t let me. I regretted not walking up there when the pink girl arrived, but I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to run or do something. I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to fix it. What did I do wrong? We were together for two years! This was so random.

I laid in bed crying all night. The only thing I got was a, “we’ll talk tomorrow” text message. I was up all night waiting to meet him the next day. When I finally got to school, I saw him in the lunchroom before first period. My heart fluttered. I ran up and hugged him sobbing, squeezed him as hard as I could. I know I should’ve been mad at him, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him. I didn’t care what he did, I just wanted him back. I told him I forgave him and that we could fix this.

He told me no. 

He said he really liked her. He said things were different with her. 

I started bawling. I mumbled that we had something special. 

He said not anymore. He said things were boring. He said that I was boring. 

It felt like he was trying to kill me. I asked all the questions, why did this happen? Why her? What did I do wrong? He didn’t give me any answers, he just stayed quiet. Every kid saw me drowning in tears, he started to back up. He told me sorry, then walked away. 

He left me alone. I started hyperventilating. It didn’t feel real at all. I didn’t go to class, I thought I was going to throw up. I went to the nurses office crying hysterically, “I need-d to go-o home……..please I-I-I feel sick,”

The nurse replied, “School started thirty minutes ago, if you were sick this morning why are you here?”

“Please…..I nee-ed to go-o home” I started crying hard, I was about to run out of the school. 

She checked my temperature, sighed and said, “your temperature is fine, do you need to talk to the counselor?” 

I nodded yes and she walked me down the hall to the counselor office. I sat in the chair and tried to not think about Mikie. I couldn’t stop though, he was all I thought about. The counselor walked in, saying, “What’s going on?” 

“I feel sick, I need to go ho-ome” 

“You don’t look sick. Are you stressed about exam week? Everyone is just as stressed as you….”

“No! Please! I want to go home!” I was almost screaming at this point.

“Okay…..listen….we’ll call your mom...will talking to her make you feel better? See what she says?”

I nodded and he called my mom, after what felt like an eternity of rings, she finally answers. He puts the call on speaker. 

“Hi Ms. Wilkins? This is Mr. Fields, the guidance counselor for your daughter Carlie, I was wondering if you are free to talk for a minute?” 

“Fine.” She sounded pissed. We just woke her up. 

“Carlie is in here now and she’s pretty upset. She keeps asking to go home ....”

“Oh. My. God. Are you kidding me? Do you know what this is even about? This is over a boy! A fucking boy! Tell her to go back to class!” 

I felt so unloved. I just broke down even more. I never felt so low and broken. I felt like I didn’t have anyone. I didn’t even have someone who was paid to be there for me, Mr. Fields, who did nothing but look and the phone, then back at me. I just got up and started walking to class. I didn’t want to talk to anyone anymore, it just felt like my heart was constantly getting stepped on. 

Throughout that long day, I tried to keep my composure. I tried to stop all the memories that flooded my brain. I could feel everyone staring and whispering about me.

I laid my head down on my desk and silently cried in every class. It was a good thing that it was exam week because all I had to do was take the tests then just sit there, there was no way I would have been able to pay attention to a normal day. However, I didn’t even pay attention to the tests. I just flew through them so I could just lay my head down. I didn’t care what grade I got. 

I got home and tried ignoring my mom at first. She came up to me and said she was sorry, she worked a full shift and didn’t get any sleep. She said if it wasn’t exam week then she would let me stay home all week and eat ice cream. 

I didn’t say anything, I just laid in my bed until the next day. I didn’t eat anything, I didn’t read, I didn’t study, nothing. I just laid in bed and blew up his phone. Everyday I was apologizing and begging him to talk to me. He never did, he never replied. Day after day, I just felt more and more numb and alone. Whenever I got a glimpse of him in school, it felt like my body would get an electrical shock. It felt like I literally needed him to survive and that I was slowly dying everyday without him. 

How could he do this?

How could he break every promise?

What did she have that I didn’t?

What did I do? 

How do I fix this?

Should I dye my hair pink?

I wish everyday would just stop. 

Then, on a Friday, I heard my phone ping. I ran over to it, and it was Mikie. My heart was for a second, then it came crashing down. 

The text message said, “Can u bring my stuff? I left sum shirts n my cologne is there sumwhere,”

I stared at the message. The first message I got from him in weeks.

I was instantly filled with rage, I started shaking, I thought I was going to explode. How can someone I dedicated so much time and love to just erase everything? I ran downstairs and grabbed a garbage bag. I went back to my room and started throwing his shirts, cologne, letters he gave me, a teddy bear, pictures, everything that reminded me of him I put in that bag. 

I put my boots on and started hauling through the snow dragging his bag of shit behind me. When I started walking closer to his house, I saw flashing neon lights beaming through the window. I walked closer and saw cars in his driveway and people going in and out. 

He was having a party? Was I really that awful of a girlfriend? Was I really that bad?

Am I really that boring?

The more I kept thinking, the more I kept hearing the awful questions in my head. Why didn’t he just talk to me? Why did he push me away so fast? What’s so special about her? He promised he would never leave me, he promised I would never be alone - but ended up being the one who abandoned me! I’m alone because of him and he’s throwing a party! My rage filled my motivation again. 

I angrily walked through the front door, everyone was staring at me. I walked past them and headed straight to his bedroom. I pushed open the door and there he was, sitting on his bed with his acoustic guitar on his lap- and her cuddled right next to him. Just like I used to.

Mikie and I just stared at each other. It was so blindingly quiet, the music that was blaring couldn’t even drown out the awkwardness. 

“Did you bring my stuff? Your stuff is over there,” Mikie pointed to a pile of my clothes, hoodies, paper, notebooks, and pictures in a corner. I looked at his garbage bag and my stuff, our relationship, in two separate piles. 

I dumped his bag right in front of me and kicked it out of my way. I grabbed all of my stuff and started stuffing the garbage bag. I could hear all of them whispering about me. I felt jealous and enraged. My hands were sweating and I thought my heart beat was going to make me deaf. I don’t know what happened to me, but at that moment I snapped. 

I stood up with all of my things, turned around and walked up to Mikie’s bookcase. It was filled with action figures, CD’s, awards, things he loved and were proud of. With all my frustration, I pushed that motherfucker and watched everyone scatter. 

Mikie started yelling, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” 

I didn’t say anything. I ripped a poster off the wall before I walked out of his bedroom. I pushed over a lamp on my way out of the front door, with stares glued to my back. 

I walked home in the snow. Crying. That’s not what I wanted to happen. I was hoping he would push her off and grab me. I wanted him to ask for forgiveness, I wanted to give him a second chance, but he didn’t. 

I couldn’t change that. 

I made it home and walked up the stairs. I threw the garbage bag across the room and fell on my bed. I just laid there. I felt stupid, everyone probably thinks I’m crazy now. I can only imagine what they are saying about me. My face started to burn, I just wanted to disappear. 

I rolled over and saw the garbage bag of my stuff from Mikie’s house. Everything poured on the floor. I went over to the bag and started picking up love letters we wrote. I sat on my floor and just wallowed in our letters and pictures. One by one I tortured myself going through our memories. I read every word we shared. I replayed his laugh in my head. I started crying all over again. I picked up another piece of paper with the title, “Remember Me,” 

It was a short essay I wrote of the school’s writing contest. I re-read it, and for a split second I forgot about Mikie and remembered how much I liked this piece. I wasn’t going to submit it because Mikie said it was boring. 

I don’t think his opinion really matters anymore at his point. 

I spent the rest of the night typing the essay. I finished editing it and sent it to my school’s literacy magazine. I was lucky too, that Friday was the last day to submit it. 

I laid back in bed after I sent it. For the first time in a long time, I feel right asleep.

Days went on in a daze. It felt like I couldn’t feel anymore. The hole Mikie tore in my heart numbed everything in me. I just started writing all the time. It kept me sane. 

By the end of March, my high school does an annual award ceremony. I sat in the back of the auditorium. I wasn’t looking forward to this at all. These ceremonies always took forever, I just wanted to go home. I started writing in my notebook when I noticed Mikie walking in with her and a group of friends. I sunk lower in my seat. 

The award show started. They started naming kids in sports, the top 150 students in the class, science fair awards, one by one students started walking up on stage. 

I kept looking over at Mikie, he was laughing with all of his friends. And her. I felt a ping of sadness, it wasn’t even sadness of missing him, it was ping of sad loneliness. I looked back at the stage to distract myself from looking over there.

An English teacher walked to the podium, quoting William Faukner, “I don't think anybody can teach anybody anything. I think that you learn it, but the young writer that is as I say demon-driven and wants to learn and has got to write, he don't know why, he will learn from almost any source that he finds. He will learn from older people who are not writers, he will learn from writers, but he learns it -- you can't teach it.” Everyone, the winner of the English department’s writing contest is Carlie Wilkins. 

I was parazlied. I don’t even know a word to describe my feelings. I was stunned, completely in shock. They said my name again and this time I bolted up and started walking to the stage. I walked up, smiling ear to ear, as they handed me the award certificate and an IPad. I sat in a chair on stage with the older award recipients, and watched everyone take pictures and clap. 

After the ceremony, I talked to the members of the literacy magazine. We talked about my piece and told me I should join next year's magazine team. I was beyond excited. After I grabbed all my stuff, I headed to the front doors to get on the buses. 

When I got outside, there he was. He was sitting on a bench looking for someone. Looking for me. 

I walked right past him.

“Carlie! Wait!”

He tried to keep up with me, yelling, “I want to talk to you!”

I stopped, turned around, saw him standing a few feet away from me. He was about to say something, but I interrupted him,

“Nope. I don’t wanna talk. I’m so bored of this. Goodbye, Mikie.”

I left. I got on the bus and didn’t look back at him. I looked down at my award, smiling. I can’t believe how caught up I was in him. I’m so dumb. No, I’m not. I’m just me. 

I re-read the award certificate one more time. Then I took out my notebook, and started writing.