notice her right away. The
first time I saw her was at a pep rally. She was on the dance team.
After that, I was obsessed. I thought she was the most beautiful person
I’d ever seen. By the end of the semester I’d finally gotten up enough
courage to talk to her, and a few weeks after that we were together. The
first six months were perfect. I mean it. Perfect. After
that, things started to change. She wanted to spend less time together, hang
out with other people. She found this new group of friends. I was
so jealous of them. She’d blow me off to be with them, flirt with the other
guys right in front of me. She was pushing me away, and I panicked.
She saw how she was affecting me, and she figured out pretty fast that I wasn’t
going to leave her and she took advantage of it. She controlled me.
She knew I’d do anything for her. This went on for two and a half
years. I knew I should get out, but I didn’t want to. Life without
her seemed so…terrifying. I was obsessed with her, with our love.
It defined me. So I held on.”
He paused and took a deep breath.
He wasn’t looking at me. I think maybe he forgot I was in the room.
He looked so lost.
“Then one day, she broke it off. It
was out of nowhere, or at least I thought it was then. She found someone else
and she cut me out, completely. That first month I really thought I was
going to go insane. I was so lost. I’d been living for her, and
after she was gone, I didn’t know who I was without her. I started
drinking a lot. Then had my accident. For years, I blamed
her. I told myself that she was psychotic, that she was selfish, that she
was heartless. It was stupid, but it made me feel better. And then,
about a year later, I saw her wedding announcement in the Sunday paper, and she
looked so happy, so in love. I wanted to be happy for her, but it hurt so
bad. All I could think about was how she’d never looked that happy with
me. After that, I couldn’t deny it anymore. It was me. I was
what was wrong with us. I—we—had something amazing, and I
ruined it. I wasn’t good enough for her, and I’m not good enough for you.”
I gave him a minute before I spoke.
He was gripping the counter, looking down again. I saw a couple tears
fall in the sink and my heart broke. Finally, I spoke. “Kieran, all
of that was a long time ago, right?”
“Yes,” he said, still not looking up.
“Okay. For what it’s worth, I
don’t think you ruined your relationship with Becca. Sometimes things
like that just don’t work out, for lots of reasons. It sounds to me like
she wasn’t good enough for you. Even so, you can’t stop living your life
because you’re scared of screwing up.”
“That’s not it,” he said, suddenly
looking up at me.
“Then what is it?”
“The day I got out of the hospital, I
told myself I wouldn’t get involved with someone like that again.”
“But I’ve seen you with girls before.”
“Yeah, I go out with some girls, but I’m
never involved with them, and in the three years since all of that happened, it
hasn’t been a problem. Then I met you. Marissa, what I feel for
you…it’s familiar, and it scares me. With Becca, I’d never felt so out of control
in my life, and I hated it. I never want to feel that way about anyone
again.”
“So you’re just afraid of getting hurt,
then?”
“No.”
“What is it, then?”
“I’m afraid of losing myself.”
“See this scar? I’m reminded of
Becca everyday. Of how I let myself get to the point where I thought life
wasn’t worth living without her.”
I frowned. “I thought it was drunk
driving accident?”
“Ha. Everybody thinks it was.
Even Kiera . But you know what? It wasn’t, not really. I told
you. I’m not an alcoholic. Yeah, I was out of it all the time, but
not that night. I’d been drinking. I guess I was even over the
first time I saw her was at a pep rally. She was on the dance team.
After that, I was obsessed. I thought she was the most beautiful person
I’d ever seen. By the end of the semester I’d finally gotten up enough
courage to talk to her, and a few weeks after that we were together. The
first six months were perfect. I mean it. Perfect. After
that, things started to change. She wanted to spend less time together, hang
out with other people. She found this new group of friends. I was
so jealous of them. She’d blow me off to be with them, flirt with the other
guys right in front of me. She was pushing me away, and I panicked.
She saw how she was affecting me, and she figured out pretty fast that I wasn’t
going to leave her and she took advantage of it. She controlled me.
She knew I’d do anything for her. This went on for two and a half
years. I knew I should get out, but I didn’t want to. Life without
her seemed so…terrifying. I was obsessed with her, with our love.
It defined me. So I held on.”
He paused and took a deep breath.
He wasn’t looking at me. I think maybe he forgot I was in the room.
He looked so lost.
“Then one day, she broke it off. It
was out of nowhere, or at least I thought it was then. She found someone else
and she cut me out, completely. That first month I really thought I was
going to go insane. I was so lost. I’d been living for her, and
after she was gone, I didn’t know who I was without her. I started
drinking a lot. Then had my accident. For years, I blamed
her. I told myself that she was psychotic, that she was selfish, that she
was heartless. It was stupid, but it made me feel better. And then,
about a year later, I saw her wedding announcement in the Sunday paper, and she
looked so happy, so in love. I wanted to be happy for her, but it hurt so
bad. All I could think about was how she’d never looked that happy with
me. After that, I couldn’t deny it anymore. It was me. I was
what was wrong with us. I—we—had something amazing, and I
ruined it. I wasn’t good enough for her, and I’m not good enough for you.”
I gave him a minute before I spoke.
He was gripping the counter, looking down again. I saw a couple tears
fall in the sink and my heart broke. Finally, I spoke. “Kieran, all
of that was a long time ago, right?”
“Yes,” he said, still not looking up.
“Okay. For what it’s worth, I
don’t think you ruined your relationship with Becca. Sometimes things
like that just don’t work out, for lots of reasons. It sounds to me like
she wasn’t good enough for you. Even so, you can’t stop living your life
because you’re scared of screwing up.”
“That’s not it,” he said, suddenly
looking up at me.
“Then what is it?”
“The day I got out of the hospital, I
told myself I wouldn’t get involved with someone like that again.”
“But I’ve seen you with girls before.”
“Yeah, I go out with some girls, but I’m
never involved with them, and in the three years since all of that happened, it
hasn’t been a problem. Then I met you. Marissa, what I feel for
you…it’s familiar, and it scares me. With Becca, I’d never felt so out of control
in my life, and I hated it. I never want to feel that way about anyone
again.”
“So you’re just afraid of getting hurt,
then?”
“No.”
“What is it, then?”
“I’m afraid of losing myself.”
“See this scar? I’m reminded of
Becca everyday. Of how I let myself get to the point where I thought life
wasn’t worth living without her.”
I frowned. “I thought it was drunk
driving accident?”
“Ha. Everybody thinks it was.
Even Kiera . But you know what? It wasn’t, not really. I told
you. I’m not an alcoholic. Yeah, I was out of it all the time, but
not that night. I’d been drinking. I guess I was even over the
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