28Happy Birthday
Breaking up with Noah was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. When I think back on it now, I realize I would’ve done things differently, said things differently. I would’ve told Noah that I still love him, that I probably always will, but that I’ve always felt something was missing with him. I needed a deeper connection, the kind I can only get with someone through a shared appreciation of art. The kind of connection I have with Iris and Emmy and Franco and even Zayne.
And, most importantly, with Phantom.
It’s not his fault that that connection was never there, and he shouldn’t have to go changing himself just to build it for me. He’s perfect just the way he is. Our relationship’s just not the right fit for me, for who I am—not anymore.
He’s still one of my best friends. I still cherish every memory we made, and need him in my life like my lungs need air. But just as a friend. Thebestof friends.
Maybe he would’ve understood better if I’d said all that. Or maybe not. I guess we’ll never know. After all, that’s one thing we can never do: Turn back time.
“What are you trying to say right now?” Noah had said, lifting his head from his hands in my room back home.
“I’m trying to tell you that I’m not sure I can do this anymore,” I murmured.
“And by ‘this,’ you mean us?” The expression on his face was so pained.
The tightness in my chest was suffocating as I’d said, “Yes.”
“What did I do wrong?” he asked through a distraught grimace.
“Nothing, Noah. Absolutely nothing.”
His expression crumpled. “Then what went wrong? What changed?”
“I did,” I cried. But even I knew that was a lie. I’ve never felt more like myself.
His voice was low and quiet. “No, that’s bullshit. I don’t believe that.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Noah,” I said, exasperated, falling to sit on the bed next to him.
Eyes locked on the floor, he asked, “Is it someone else?”
I’d flinched, and he knew.
“I see.”
We sat in silence and I listened as his breaths came in heavier and heavier.
He turned his gaze to me. “Who?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not about them. It’s about me.”
“Then tell me this, Maeve. Are they a good person? Will they support you and love you like I have?” I’d felt his eyes, blue like the hottest fire, scorching my skin, straight through to my soul. I didn’t answer him.
“You’ve known them for months, Maeve. You’ve known me foryears. And I’ve always been there for you. You might be ending things between us, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”
I’d let the tears fall then.
Noah stood and said with his back to me, “When this asshole hurts you, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.” And then he’d left. Without another word.
I missed him the second he’d gone, but I couldn’t deny the truth to myself. I missed Phantommore.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you,” I say as I climb out of our family van the day after Thanksgiving, on my birthday.
“I love you too, Bug. Have fun celebrating with your friends, but be safe.”
“Will do.”
