Chapter 64 Distractions Ruin Dreams #3
I take a deep breath, because this is it, this is the moment my horrible plan comes to life, and I have to push past the lump in my throat and the burn behind my eyes.
“Drew, can you sit down? I think we need to talk.” He goes to the bed and takes a seat.
I walk my bag to the edge of the door. I join him on the bed, but in the opposite corner.
“Annie, you are worrying me,” he says before I can start.
I don’t know how to say it; saying it is the only part of this awful plan I couldn’t make myself focus on.
“Drew—” I take another breath. “Drew, this isn’t going to work.
” “What do you mean this isn’t going to work, Annie?
” Drew asks before adding, “What isn’t working, Annie?
I’ll fix it.” “Drew, I’m distracting you.
I can’t be the reason that this doesn’t work for you—” He cuts me off.
“Coach doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
You aren’t distracting me, Annie, it was one game.
” “I don’t want one game to turn into two, then three, Drew.
I heard him say you are already being called about moving up.
That’s huge: I will not be the reason you don’t get the next chance.
” I am pleading with him to hear me, to understand that I’m doing this for him.
“No, Annie, I love you. No.” He reaches out and pulls me into his lap, and I should push him away, but I know that this is the last time I’ll be in his arms, and that I need his touch to help me get the next words out to finish what I have to do.
“Drew, I love you, too. I love you so much, but I can’t have that love turn into hate or resentment if I cause your dream to come crashing down.
I’m leaving, I’m going home, because for right now, our paths are going in opposite directions.
I am breaking up with you.” And then the tears I’ve been holding back break free, and Drew holds me.
This hurts. There is no softening the blow of the words I have said, no undoing them.
They had to be said, and yet I feel a bad taste in my mouth.
Drew holds me, and I cry so hard I almost can’t breathe anymore.
He holds me, rubbing his calloused hand up and down my arm.
He doesn’t say anything. If it hurts this bad now, what is it going to feel like when I leave, when I go back home and I can’t feel him against me?
The last two and a half years, he’s become the person I was closest to: he’s my favorite person, my best friend.
I was always able to just be Annie around him, even when I realized I had a crush on him or when I lusted after him.
I’d always been myself, not some manufactured version I thought he wanted.
I realize, sitting in his arms, that I’ll never love anyone like I love him, but I also know that this love can’t hold him back from his potential, his dream of the big leagues.
I have to get up, I tell my brain. I have to remove my body from his and let him have his dream.
I’ll go and try to find my own dreams, even if right now I can’t quite remember what they are.
I meant it when I said that if we hold each other back this wouldn’t last, we’d break each other, and I don’t want this love to change to hatred or jealousy.
I would rather live with the heartbreak in this moment than see his love changed into hate.
I pull my head up and look into his dark blue eyes.
His eyes are red like I’m not the only one reduced to tears by my words.
I can see my pain being reflected in them.
I can’t help myself, and I push up and kiss him.
I need one more of his kisses, and we cling to each other.
Then I find a strength I didn’t know I had, push myself away from his lips, and climb out of his lap.
I look at this beautiful boy, seeing the glimmer of the man he is growing into, knowing I’m going to miss the next big moments that shape him into the man he will become.
I know my actions tonight have hurt him and will be part of his story in the worst way.
But I also know that he was never going to be able to do this for us, for himself.
He’s always been the one to hold me together, to try to hold us together.
Drew has only ever wanted the best for me, and I think that is why he isn’t fighting me; he must see the truth in my words.
“Good luck on the re—” My voice breaks, and he reaches for my hand, but I step out of reach.
I take a deep breath and start over. “Good luck with the rest of the season.” I turn and make my way towards his bedroom door and my packed bags.
I grab them, opening the door, and hear him say, “I hope all your dreams come true.” I take one final look at the boy I love, trying to remember every last detail of his face.
I whisper, “You, too.” Then I’m pulling the door closed behind me, never once taking a look back as I walk out of the apartment and to the waiting car.
I can feel tears streaming down my face harder and my heart breaking, but I have no one to blame but myself.
The End…
Or is it?