“Sabrina, I—I don’t know if I’m ready to move in together.”
“Why not? Don’t you love me? I know you don’t say it, but you don’t need to for me to know it.”
“I—I care about you so much.”
Her smile dimmed as realization sank in, but just as quickly, it came back more forced than ever. “Then next year. We can do the dorms for another year.”
“I don’t think a year will help.”
“Why not? Daniel, I love you. I—” The smile dropped completely, and she gripped my sweaty palms in hers. “I can’t do this without you. You have to love me.”
“I care about you so much. You’re my best friend.”
“Then I’ll love you enough for both of us. Daniel, you promised you wouldn’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You are,” she shouted. “You’re abandoning me because I’m not good enough. God, I’ll never be good enough. Why bother? Why bother with anything? I’m a waste of air.”
She tried to jerk away, but I gripped her face in my palms and made her look at me. “You are good enough. You are good enough to be loved.”
“Just not by you?” she sneered.
Her eyes hardened, and I braced myself. Sabrina went through the full gamut of emotions when we fought—which had been more and more frequently since we started college. I tried to avoid it, but this felt like a freight train I couldn’t stop.
“I’m good enough to be fucked by you though. Is that all it was?”
“You know it’s not.”
“Well, maybe until you get your shit together, I’ll find someone else to fuck. How do you like that? If I’m not good enough to love, then you can’t fuck me either.”
“Dammit, Sabrina, don’t do this.”
“Do what? Act crazy? That’s what Kent thinks I am, so why not act like it?”
Fuck. Things were spiraling out of my grasp, no matter how hard I tried to hold on and control it.
“This isn’t about Kent.”
“What do you think, Daniel? Do you think I’m crazy? Is that why you won’t love me?”
“Sabrina…”
“You’re always going on and on about how I need help. How I should talk to someone, but why bother. I have you. Or I did have you.”
“You don’t need me. They have student services you can talk to. I’ve looked it up to help.”
“I don’t want to talk to anyone,” she screamed. “I want you to love me like I love you.”
“Sabrina, I—I’m so sorry. I care about you so—”
“Shut up, Daniel. Take me home.” And just like that, the fight seeped out of her. Her shoulders dropped as she swiped at her cheeks.
“Please, don’t do th—”
“Please.”
The drive was eerily silent, and I wanted to say a million things, but instead said none. I thought about lying and saying I loved her, but where did that leave us in a year? She needed help. She needed someone who really did love her.
When we got back to campus, I walked her to her dorm building, but she wouldn’t let me come up.
“Just know I’ll always love you.”
And she walked away before I could say anything else.
I downed the rest of my drink, staring at the blank screen of the TV. The only light came from the single lamp on the end table. I’d been too lazy to turn on more than that. I’d come home from work and sat on the couch, only moving to get more to drink.
That’d been my nights since Hanna had dropped her bomb on me.
I love you.
I love you.
Her sweet confession played on repeat and created so many emotions, I didn’t even know where to start. The most prominent that roared through me, washing almost all the others out? Fear.
The last girl who loved me killed herself. And ever since Hanna’s admission, Sabrina’s memory haunted me like it foreshadowed a future with Hanna. I’d seen the hurt in her eyes when I hadn’t said it back. The green had been achingly familiar, and I froze, terrified of repeating the past.
“Fuck,” I shouted, fisting my hair.
I’d texted Hanna every day, trying to get her to talk to me. I needed to know she was okay. I needed to know loving me hadn’t damaged her permanently. She rarely responded, but when she did, it was always an excuse to not see me.
My patience was running thin, and each night I sat on the couch fortified that I needed to talk to her.
I’d gone into this with Hanna because I wanted to help her, but now all I could think about was how I’d made it worse.
I always made it worse. I always tried to help, and I always made it worse.
I needed to talk to her.
I needed to end this.
I don’t want to end this.
It didn’t matter. Hanna deserved someone who didn’t freeze when someone told him they loved him. Hanna deserved someone who didn’t second guess his feelings.
Hanna deserved better.
She deserved better than a coward too scared to love.
Hanna
Daniel: Drinks tonight? We can meet wherever.
I stared down at the phone, wanting to send a hell yes back, but like every other time he’d messaged, I settled for a lame excuse.
Me: I can’t. I have to work late tonight and an early meeting.
Usually, he left it at that, opting to try again the next day, but not this time.
Daniel: Hanna…
Daniel: We need to talk. About what happened.
We sure as shit did not need to talk about what happened. I saw everything written all over his face, and it’d been painful enough. I wasn’t ready to hear it from the lips I loved so much. I was too scared to lose him, but I couldn’t go back to being just friends. I opened pandora’s box, and now it couldn’t be closed.
Me: Sure. Just not tonight. :)
The smiley face at the end wasn’t fooling anyone, but it didn’t stop me from trying to pretend all was just fabulous
