Clarissa

As soon as she was out of sight, she let the tears come, let it blur all the details of what just happened. It’s not fair. Every step felt heavier than the last. All she wanted to do was turn back around and run to him, to comfort him and tell him that of course she wasn’t going anywhere. She’ll stand by him no matter if the storm comes. But she can’t. She isn’t courageous enough to do that.

There were suddenly so many uncertainties that she had no control over, and it wasn’t just about her or Kai anymore. She wasn’t sure they could come out of the storm in one piece, with their hands still holding each other’s firmly. She wasn’t sure that Kai could come out alive after a scandal so early in his career. She wasn’t sure she could take all the hate from fangirls, either.  What little she experienced already hurt her self-esteem more than she’d like—she couldn’t imagine living through that every day for who knows how long. She wasn’t sure that she could still hold on to Kai with a wall of fangirls barricading him from her. She isn’t courageous enough to go through that.

Clarissa held her chest as the sobs shook her whole being. She hated the self-preservation that kept her away from him. She hated herself for not being strong enough for both of them. So she cried until there were no more tears to be cried. And still, she cried.

-

“Besides, I want it to remind you of me. It’ll hug you in the times I couldn’t.”

She pulled the cardigan closer to her, trying to smell him in his cothes. The scent was fading. She cried harder. She hugged her knees as she rocked herself back and forth, wanting to feel his warmth envelop her again. Only an unending coldness greeted her.

-

If only it was to hear his voice, she listened to the radio. Now, more than ever, she paid attention to where they were going, what they were doing, how they were doing. Always, she looked for his expressions, for any change in him.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have looked.

He looked the same—the same smile, the same gait, the same charisma. It’s as if she never happened.

She was happy he moved on.

She was selfish for wanting otherwise.

She was heartbroken.

She was in love.

-

It’s been three months. She kept her promise—she kept her distance, looking at him from afar. She changed her number, erasing all traces of him except for a cardigan and a baseball hat.

Winter has come, and everything was dead.

“You can be my Clumsy and I’ll be your Cheesy. It’s perfect!”

Clarissa did her best to move on and pretend that everything was alright. She woke up in the mornings, she worked, she ate, she went home. Everything was okay in the mornings, but it was the nights that stretched out, became unbearable, suffocating her alive.

Is he doing okay? Is he sleeping alright? Is he practicing well? Is he forgetting about me?

He’s young, and he will forget. He will move on, and one day, I’ll only be a passing memory, a blur among others.

She cried.

--

THE END.

LOL jk. You guys would probably hunt me down and skin me alive if I did. But it's time to tell me what y'all think should happen. I really want participation, yo.