Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I set my pen down and ran my fingers through my hair as my eyes filled with tears. Everything was a lie. I hated the lies, the silence, the vast space in my aching heart where memories of Ben slowly died with each cruel intention. The ugly was winning so much it made me nauseous. I crumpled up the paper and threw it at the trash bin. Then I opened up my journal and started ripping out the pages of poems I’d written about Matt, giving up halfway through and slamming the whole journal into the trash even though there were other journals.
I kicked the bin, sending it across the room. Then I swiped my arms along my desk, sending everything crashing to the ground. Grabbing my pillow, I covered my mouth and screamed into it.
Memories of us in his bed flashed through my head. I felt his hands on my skin, his breath along my lips, and I couldn’t get the look in his eyes out of my conscience. Our connection caused everything else to fade away. That’s what I saw in his eyes. I was enough.
Ben made me feel like we were greater than anything that was lost, and he did it without saying a word. Everything beautiful about our friendship came together in what felt like the most pivotal moment of my life. I didn’t think about Matt. He blurred into the background. There wasn’t a moment of regret.
At least … not in my mind or heart.
I wiped my face, picked everything off the floor and put it neatly back on the desk. Then I took a deep breath and started another letter.
Dear Ben,
Remember how you used to find a new song and listen to it over and over until you knew every word and beat? You said those songs kept you awake at night and popped into your head first thing in the morning. You called them inspiring, and one day you wanted to write something that consumed another just like that.
You are my song. I know every word and every beat. You keep me awake at night and pop into my head first thing in the morning. You inspire and consume me.
I’m sorry if I held on too tightly when you needed to be set free. I’m sorry if you felt like I was making everything about me. It’s just that my love for you makes it hard to distinguish where you end and I begin. For as long as I can remember, it’s been us—Gabby and Ben.
It’s going to take time for me to see myself in this world without you by my side. And maybe it’s just selfish of me to tell you all of this. It’s not your fault. I should have been there for you. I’ll spend eternity wondering what if. What if I would have swallowed my pride and been there for you when you were sick? What if I would have taken you to the doctor? So many what-ifs.
Maybe you love me too much to blame me, but what if you need someone to blame? What if letting go of your need to protect me is what will set you free? Free to move on. Free to dream of something new for your life? Free to love yourself and perhaps someone else again?
I’m truly sorry.
Gabby
Not getting any replies from Ben sucked the life out of me. I lost focus on everything except my ASL classes. My grades plummeted. And I had no friends.
On top of all that, I had missed three days of school. By the fourth day, I went to the emergency room. Something was wrong, and I wasn’t going to be like Ben and wait until something awful happened to me. I didn’t have a roommate to save me.
“Hi, Gabby. I’m Dr. Leighton.” The woman with a long, gray ponytail greeted me, pulling the curtain shut behind her. “Your labs are back. Everything looks good. Were you aware that you’re pregnant?”
I squinted for several seconds before blinking. “Um, I took two pregnancy tests. They were negative.”
“Perhaps it was too early to detect. It explains the fatigue and nausea. Do you know when you last started your menstrual cycle?”
“He pulled out,” I said just above a whisper.
Dr. Leighton smiled. “The withdrawal method is about twenty percent less effective than condoms. And it doesn’t protect you from STDs. Even with perfect timing, you can be exposed to pre-ejaculatory fluid which contains sperm.”
I nodded as if I knew that, but I couldn’t recall hearing the words “pre-ejaculatory fluid” in junior high health class.
“Do you have an OB-GYN you see? If not, I can give you a referral.”
“I don’t have one.” I stared at my hands folded in my lap because I was too embarrassed to look at her.
Nothing had gone as planned. I was supposed to be in love with Matt. We were supposed to have sex on our wedding night, and a doctor was supposed to congratulate us on our pregnancy without using the words “pre-ejaculatory fluid.”