Waiting for Tomorrow

**TW: vulgar language and verbal abuse**

“Grow up.”

That was the last straw for me.  I couldn’t take any more of this.  I whipped around, facing away from her now, and put my hands on the back of my head.  I interlocked my fingers, pushing hard against the back of my head while my head pushed back.  I blew out an extended breath as my eyes struggled to hold back the oncoming tears.  

I walked over to my bag, meaning to grab it and take my keys out, but I stopped a few paces before reaching it.  My body felt like it was being pulled back toward her, like my heart had been snagged by an invisible lasso.  I wanted this to end, I just wanted to leave.  But I just couldn’t do it.  

The fingers on the back of my head turned white as they shifted to clenching tufts of hair.  I could feel my face heating up before the waterworks finally broke open.  I sucked in a breath, trying to dam up the tears.  It worked only for a split second before my mouth burst back open and the salty taste of despair streamed into my mouth.  

“Are you really crying right now?” Marin called out from behind me.  “I can’t believe I’m dating such a pussy.”

Her voice was like cold steel, hard and unmoving.  It made me tremble.  It wasn’t fair how emotionless she could be when I felt so destroyed.  Arguments were supposed to make you sad or upset but she showed no signs of either emotion.

“I.. I’m s.. s.. sorry,” I whimpered, my lips quivering as I tried to get out the words.  

I turned around just in time to catch Marin rolling her eyes.  She closed her eyes and massaged her brows with her thumb and pointer finger.  “I just don’t understand why you believe them but not me.  Don’t you love me?”

“I do! I do!” I pleaded, practically begging her to believe me.  “You know I love you.  It’s just… They were all saying the same thing and–”

Marin interjected; “Ya know what, if you’re just going to yell at me and not believe me, then get the fuck out.”  

“Marin, please stop.  I want to ta–”

“GET OUT!”

The tears became hysterical, my eyes clouded and pathetic, unintelligible murmurs escaped my mouth.  I took her cue and went to grab the bag that I had meant to escape with just a few moments ago.  I grabbed my keys out of the bag, shoved them in my pocket, and made for the nearest exit; the front door.

I turned the door handle and stepped into the threshold, almost out in the light, but I stopped.  I wanted nothing more than to leave but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I turned around just in time to see the door coming straight for me.

“Just leave, Levi,” she demanded.  The door slammed right in front of my face before I could even get a word out.  The door between us stood resolute, its chipped, red surface cutting me off from the one person that I wanted to be with.

Good, I thought.  She cheated on me anyway, it was only right that I left.  I spared a quick glance back through the window, seeing her walking back to the living room as if none of this had even happened. 

I walked to the driveway and slumped in my car.  I buried my face in my hands, now that I could cry openly.  The tears poured out, the ones that I successfully held back while in the house now escaping.  I groaned and whimpered as my body completely let loose.  My face began to feel like TV static and my head felt strange as I looked up and through the front window. 

I let myself feel for a few minutes.  I wasn’t used to this feeling; letting loose with my emotions.  I couldn’t do it at home for fear that my father would call me ‘a child’ again.  Crying in front of Marin was worse, though.  I did it once (well, twice if you counted today) and I told myself I wouldn’t do it again after the reaction that she had.  

Despite my miserable state, it was refreshing to not have to hold back my emotions for once.  So, I cried and cried, and cried some more.  

A text from my father, telling me to get my ass home, snapped me back to reality.  I turned the key in my ignition and listened to my old piece of crap sputter to life.  As I grabbed the stick shift and put my foot on the gas, I made the mistake of looking over at the front door.  There was no one there, of course, but that was the problem.  As much as I hate myself for saying it, I would have preferred if she had been there.  Even if it were a scornful look on her face, at least I would know she cared.  Without her standing there, there was no way for me to know exactly what it was that she was feeling.  

I should have known she wouldn’t have been there.  She cheated on me, she must have.  Four of my friends all had the same story, that they saw Marin out at dinner with some guy they’d never seen before.  This wasn’t a problem, she could have guy friends.  She’s her own person, I have no right and no desire to control who she hangs out with.  She got upset when I hung out with other girls but I figured that I could solve it by just going places with my guy friends.  I knew that I was faithful and thought I knew that she was too, so she continued hanging out with whoever she wanted to, without contest from me.  The problem came when I was told that they were holding hands on top of the table and were very obviously flirting.  The cherry on top came when they informed me she left in the same car as him, giving him a kiss that was devoid of any hesitation, any regret.

But she couldn’t have cheated, she said herself that she didn’t.  I trusted her, she wouldn’t lie to me.  My friends are jokesters, this could have just been some prank on their part; an April Fool’s Day in October.  I would ask them when I saw them next.  The evidence seemed to be clear but I couldn’t not trust Marin.  I loved her, she wouldn’t cheat on me.  

Marin assured me that she would never break my heart like that every time someone accused her of cheating.  

It was clear that she didn’t want me here anymore, the door slamming left no question about that.  She was always like this when I talked to her about people telling me that she was seen cheating on me.  I understood, it must be frustrating being falsely accused of cheating, especially when you’re loyal like Marin repeatedly tells me she is.  

I would always end up back at her house the next day.  It usually ended in fighting but I’d rather be with the girl of my dreams, fighting, than anywhere without her.  I loved her and I couldn’t change that if I tried.  Despite the next day never going well, I had faith that this time would be different.  Tomorrow will always come and every tomorrow is another chance for a better day.  It hadn’t happened before, but one of these days, it would, I was sure of it.  

I managed a smile, shifted to 'drive' and pressed down on the gas. I pulled out of the driveway, already looking forward to the next day hopefully being the one where this cycle would break.

In the meantime, I was happy being miserable as long as I was with her.