14. Coraline
14
Coraline
Seven years ago
I slam the front door behind me and rush to my bedroom.
As soon as I’m inside, I lock the door and crumple to the floor. All you can hear in the room is the ragged sound of my gasps as I struggle to breathe.
My chest heaves. It feels tight and suffocating, like I can’t get enough air into my lungs.
My tears are so hot against my skin that it feels like they’re burning my cheeks as they streak down my face. Raw, unfiltered agony rips through my chest, crashing over my heart like a tidal wave. This is the worst pain I’ve ever felt, the kind that makes you question how anything could ever feel whole again. How will I ever recover from this? How can I ever be whole again?
“God, please make it stop. Take the pain away. I can’t do it anymore. Please, God.” My voice trembles as I whisper the words through my sobs. I pull my knees into my chest, curling into myself on the floor, seeking whatever comfort I can find in the fetal position.
“Can you hear me God?” I cry. “Why does it hurt so bad?” My voice breaks off and my chest shakes with my silent sobs.
I had to break up with Jesse today. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I knew it was what was best for both of us.
Last week, his mom, Keri, confronted me, telling me how unhappy I was secretly making him. She said he complained about me all the time behind my back, that I made him miserable, and that I was holding him back from being happy.
She suggested that I needed to let him go, so he could explore new things and find his own happiness again. The more I thought about her words, the more they started to make sense to me.
I know that he's too nice to break my heart and I couldn’t bear being the one who made him feel that way, so I let him go.
I knew that if I was going to do it, it had to be like this—no turning back. But the truth is, I still love him, and that makes it hurt so much more. Letting go doesn’t make the pain stop. It just makes it more real.
I keep imagining him with someone new—taking her to our spot, kissing her, holding her hand, loving her the way he once loved me.
The weight of my newfound loneliness crushes me, and I clutch my hands over my chest, trying to hold myself together. Another sob breaks through, silent but sharp, and it rips through me, leaving my throat raw.
Every happy memory flashes through my mind like a movie—when he asked me to be his girlfriend, our first kiss, our last kiss. Every laugh, every shared moment of joy. It all plays over and over in my mind, too vivid to ignore. That’s all I can think about, and it’s both beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.
After what feels like hours of crying, I finally stop.
I sit up, feeling completely drained, like there’s nothing left in me.
Slowly, I push myself off the floor and climb into bed. I open my laptop, hoping to distract myself. I scroll through my email and remember that just a few hours ago, I applied to a college in the city.
It’s called the Maple Grove Institute, and the campus looks like something out of a fall romance novel. It's a few hours away from here. Maybe a new beginning is exactly what my heart needs. I’ve got to do this, not just for him, but for me too. If letting him go is what it takes for him to be happy, maybe I can find my own happiness again.