He Loves Me...He Loves You Not

We’re in an open field, parked in the center. Wildflowers everywhere. Light colors that glow in the dark. The sky above us is an open canvas and it looks like someone just took a paint brush and splattered the stars.

I shrug. “I dunno. Us.”

“What about us?”

I break down. “I can’t do this anymore.” Then I run from the car.

Chapter 6

“Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.”~ Author Unknown ~

Henry is chasing me. I hear him calling my name, but I don’t stop running. The wind is liberating and it whips through my hair and I bask in it. The calming effect the forceful breeze can have on a person is exhilarating. Part of me wants it to pick me up and sweep me away so that I won’t have to worry about anything anymore. My parents. Henry. Henry’s girlfriend. Lying to Rosa. I’ll be free.

Henry tackles me and I squirm beneath him. “Let me go!”

“What is wrong with you?” He’s concerned and frightened.

Tears spill onto my cheeks. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore!” I love him, but he’s driving me crazy. My obsession for him is driving me crazy. I’m convinced I’m batty. That I have a screw loose. My mom visits me in my padded cell, kind of screw loose.

“Riley, I can’t let you go. I love you.” He sounds sincere, but guys always sound sincere when they want something from you. Right now Henry wants my essence. He wants my delight. He wants to take all of me.

I’m sobbing. “You don’t mean that.” Love is such a feeble, silly word. The word can be tossed around like it has no meaning. You can say you love anything. Food. Clothes. What matters is what’s behind the word, the emotions. Happiness. Anxiousness. Nervousness. Sometimes even queasiness.

“I do mean it, I do,” he tells me. He places his head below my breastbone. “Don’t leave me. Don’t end this.”

“You can’t possibly love both of us,” I say. For a moment I feel like my soul is detached from my body and I’m standing off to the side witnessing this display of heartbreak and misery. “You’re going to hurt me.” He’s already hurt me. Hurt from Henry is the equivalent to slicing both of my wrists open with a razor blade. He will be the death of me. “Henry, I can’t.”

“Please don’t,” he whispers and he inches his way on top of me.

I don’t want to be in love with him, but he makes me. He makes me love him. Not because of his physical attributes. Those definitely fuel the attraction, but his genes aren’t why I love him.

So many times when I’d needed someone, he was there in a second. Never hesitating. He’d drop whatever he was doing and rush to my side. I think of one time in particular where my dad showed up at our house and he and my Mom got into a heated argument on our porch. I had to get away from it and Henry scooped me up like a knight in a fairytale and took me away. He comforted me. Henry made me feel like as long as he was there nothing would ever harm me.

Except him. He’s going to harm me. Eventually. I am sure of it.

Lightning fans across the sky accompanied by rumbling thunder. The angels are bowling. A crash. Somebody just got a strike.

The stars are blanketed by black clouds and another flash of lightning illuminates Henry’s face above me. Tiny droplets of water fall from the heavens and land on my forehead. Another flash of lightning. His hands are all over me, touching me, caressing my skin, and I love it.

Rain comes down in torrents. It soaks right through my skin and I swear I’m wet to the bone. I sit up. He has a panicked, needy, desperate look on his face and it’s amazing how fast I regret the decision I so adamantly made before. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. I see the reflection of lightning in his light eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” I can’t end this. I’m so deeply in love—with him.

He doesn’t answer me. He lunges for my mouth and as the thunder crashes so do our lips—into one another’s.

The ground is wet, muddy. I’m slipping and sliding in filth. Henry’s shirt comes off. His hands smack into the ground, then he places both hands on my cheeks pulling me closer and smearing dirt on my face. Another kiss. “Don’t ever say that again!” he’s shouting over the chaos that’s going on in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “So sorry.”

We’re sopping and dirty. “Let’s go back to my house,” he tells me.

“Aren’t your parents’ home?”

“No.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and my head falls into the curve. Then he scoops me up and carries me to the car like a newlywed bride, being carried over the threshold.

Chapter 7

“I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you.” ~ Author Unknown ~