Meet Cute

1. ONE

ONE

What did I do that was so wrong?

All my life they loved me. I was the favorite child, the one who could do no wrong. So how does it all disappear because of who I like? Did they ever even love me in the first place?

It’s hard to see past the windshield since I’m having what I can only call a silent meltdown. No screaming, no yelling, only me gripping the steering wheel extra tight while tears run down my cheeks.

My tired eyes dart over to the fuel gauge. Of course my stupid ass didn’t even check before hopping into the car and driving away in a huff.

Running away was dramatic, I know that. I just didn’t know what to do. Everyone was staring at me, and their faces were saying what their mouths wouldn’t: it’s gross. I’m gross. I’ve never seen my mom look at me with so much disgust.

I thought I was gonna eat turkey and stuff my face with mashed potatoes, but now I’m driving alone with nothing but my blindingly bright headlights to save me from the dark void outside my car.

My parents only live two hours away from town, but this drive may as well be taking ten years. I’ll be home soon, but being all alone in my shoddy ground-level apartment might not be the best thing for me at the moment.

Being alone was always something I enjoyed, but right now it almost feels dangerous. I only assumed I could trust myself because I never had any reason not to, but right now? My mind is screaming all these horribly negative thoughts that I’m not sure I can really deal with.

No one. I have no one.

Another pair of lights in the distance pull me out of my thoughts. I don’t even realize I’m driving dangerously close to the middle of the road until they start honking crazily. My brain might be totally fried, but that’s no excuse.

I’m being reckless. Stupid. I’m so fucking stupid. Swerving right, I avoid a head-on collision and just sit there on the side of the road like a dumbass. It’s really late and there’s not many people driving here right now, especially since it’s Thanksgiving and all that.

One minute. That’s all I need. A minute to breathe, and think, and figure out what the hell I’m gonna do. No friends, no family, no anything. All I have is a shitty job that I hate.

Coming out was stupid. It’s not as though I even have a boyfriend or anyone I wanted them to meet. I just didn’t want to feel like I was constantly living a lie around my own family.

Now I don’t have a family at all.

Something inside me finally snaps, and I can’t breathe. Tears run down my cheeks while ugly hiccups and sobs fill the empty air of my car. Letting my head fall on the steering wheel, I don’t really know how long passes before I finally ease up a bit.

Everything hurts. My brown eyes are all red and ugly from crying, and there’s snot running down my upper lip. I really am just disgusting. The low fuel light is lit up yellow now, and my car is beeping at me to find some gas or risk spending the night out in who the hell knows where.

Forcing my head up, it’s only trees and trees for miles. Driving here during the day must be really pretty, but at night it’s honestly a little scary. I don’t wanna linger any longer than I need to, not that I really have that choice right now.

Tapping around on my nav, the closest—and only—gas station is ten minutes away. It’s actually pretty close to town, so fueling up and getting home shouldn’t take all that long.

It will be nice to collapse in bed and stare at the ceiling for a bit. I know I’ll cry again, but I’ll be in the privacy of my own bedroom by then. Another car passes by, and with great difficulty I force myself to drive.

Loud music would be nice, but it wouldn’t help. I don’t think anything would help. I mean, what can I do? Do I just go to therapy now? Do I wait and pray that they remember “hey wait, that’s our son!” and try to make things right?

That won’t happen. Not with the way the room went quiet and they all stared at me. My father’s eyes didn’t even hold anger, they held sadness. They were pleading with me even if he didn’t dare open his mouth. Pleading to take it back and let things go back to normal.

Of course I didn't, though. I didn't realize at the time what I was really doing. The rose-tinted glasses got me better than I thought. You see all these feel-good stories online and on TV, and you think things will be okay. You think it will all be alright until it isn’t.

Gravel crunches underneath winter tires as I turn into the gas station. It sits between the trees like a beacon, with fluorescent blue signs and detailing around the small white building. The lights are on inside, and there’s even a few cars parked by the pumps.

Taking a lonely spot in the corner, I turn the engine off and just sit there. I’ve never felt so lost in my life. Before I can wallow in any more self-pity my phone vibrates in my pocket.

Haley

i just got your texts!! are you alright??

I should reply, but my fingers don’t want to move. It doesn’t matter. I’m not alright, but I don’t wanna be a burden to Haley either. Leaving her on read would make her feel worse though, and I can’t alienate the only friend I have—even if she lives across the country.

Me

im okay. going to bed now. talk soon. love u.

One quick swipe and a tap turns on do-not-disturb mode before she can even start typing. I wish she was here right now. I wish anyone was here. Going through all this alone is the worst.

Even in the fading gas station lights I can tell my face is a mess right now. Wiping my tearstained cheeks does little to fix them, but at least I tried. I can’t be bothered to care about that right now. So what if people know I’m a wreck? What’s there to lose?

Stuffing the stupid thing into the pocket of my garnet-red hoodie, I finally step out of the car into the cool night air. I wouldn’t go inside if I didn’t have to, but I’m hungry and I want to consume as many calories as possible since I’m gonna cry them out later anyways.

And gas. I came here for gas.