I text him again, feeling like a clingy stalker, but damn it, I’mjust freaking out. Finally, the check marks turn blue. I wait for the dancing dots on the left, but they don’t appear.
Seems like I have fallen asleep at some point, fully clothed and on my phone, because I have a nasty mark on my left cheek and a headache from hell when my alarm goes off. David hasn’t replied, but he was online again at 3:27 a.m. Why isn’t he answering?
After leaving the house earlier than I needed to, I stand in my usual spot in the schoolyard. If something had happened, I would know by now. Someone would’ve told me. But then what is it? Did I do something wrong? I have no idea what.
My heart is beating fast and loud, but not in a good way. Two of my classmates stand next to me and start talking, but I’m not really listening.
Then he comes. Relief washes over me in a deceptive wave. Fuck, he looks terrible. His eyes are red with deep circles under them. He’s been crying. Shit.
I intercept him before he gets to the crowded part of the schoolyard. Immediately, his eyes fill with tears. I want to kiss him, hug him, tell him that everything will be okay, but this isn’t the place. First his lips tremble, then his upper body, and then the first tear falls. He doesn’t even bother to stop it, he just looks at me. I’m about to say something, but David silences me with just one pained look and a shake of his head.
Fuck, what happened? In a quiet, raspy voice, he strings together words that don’t make any sense at first.
“I can’t do this. Please. Please, let me go. Please, if you love me, let me go and leave me alone. Please.”
What? Why? No! No way! I want to scream it out loud, but I don’t. The desperation in his eyes robs me of my voice. He’s begging me tobreak up with him.“If you love me, let me go and leave me alone.”
I don’t know what happened, but I see his distress, feel his pain like a knife stabbing in my heart with every new tear that rolls down his cheeks. And because I love him, I respect his wish, even though I’m breaking inside.
“I love you, forever.” Very lowly, so that no one can hear, I say these words for the last time. No one except David. Then I turn around.
After the second lesson, I go home. Just the thought of sharing the auditorium with him for the next fifteen minutes is more than I can handle right now.
I collapse in front of our front door. Safe from prying eyes, protected by trees, hedges, and a gate. In the safety that has meant everything to us for almost two years. I don’t know how long I lie on the ground and cry. At some point it stops. With no more tears left I stare into nothingness, everything is empty, I am just a shell, my heart has moved out.
It’s 32°C, the sun is burning my bare arms and legs, but I can’t move.
“Hey, big guy.” Papa. He gently strokes my shoulder. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”
“David broke up with me.”
Papa pauses briefly, takes a deep breath. “Merde.” Without another word, he slides down next to me on the ground. I somehow crawl over to him, lay my head in his lap, and fall asleep.
When I wake up, it’s soft beneath me and I hear muffled voices. Our living room, our sofa. How often have we sat here, how often has David held my hand here, put his arm around my shoulder, kissed me on the forehead, on themouth? Just yesterday.
Fuck. Here they are again, the tears, and they get worse with every step I take toward my room.
Carefully I open the door. I don’t know why, maybe I’m afraid that everything will be different here too. But it looks exactly the same as it did this morning when everything was still fine, looks like yesterday when we were still here... together...
I stand in the middle of my room and don’t know where to go, even the carpet under my feet brings back memories. How often was I on my knees in front of him, or he in front of me? How often did we lie here, surrounded by a mountain of papers and notes? How often did we plan to study and then somehow ended up kissing?
Every corner of my room has a connection to David, every piece of furniture, every pillow. Everything I touch, he has touched before. I feel his rough fingertips on mine as I stroke the desk. The photo of us smiles at me. Papa took it, here in our garden, here in this place that has always been our refuge and now feels like my own personal prison.
My legs are shaking and I give up. I collapse onto my bed with no idea how I’ll ever sleep here again. Everything smells like him. It’s like torture when I press my face into my pillow and breathe in deeply. With my eyes closed, I could convince myself that I’m lying on his chest—maybe.
At some point, I hear my door, soft footsteps. I feel my mattress dip a little, and a hand in my curls. Paps. He used to do that when I was younger, when I had only just moved in with them, when I missed my mother. Nowadays, he only does it in passing but today is different.
“Why, Paps? I don’t understand why. Why is he doing this? Everything was fine yesterday.”
“Didn’t he tell you why?”
“No, and I didn’t have a chance to ask him. Especially not at school, when no one knows we’re together.” I sob and scream, something in between, something my voice can still manage.
“What did David say?”
“He begged me to leave if I loved him.”
“And you did?”
