This Is Falling(44)

I’m reading before I can stop myself, and I’m reading with anger in my heart. I’m not angry at Rowe, I’m angry at myself for falling for her—for falling for a girl who can’t let herself be mine to love.





Hi Josh.

Haven’t written in a week, lots to catch you up on. I told two more people about you—my roommates, Cass and Paige. I know, I know…but I was wrong about Paige. She’s actually pretty nice, once you get through all of that fake crap. I’ve been wrong about a lot. I didn’t think I could do this without you. But here I am, almost a month in, and I don’t want to go home, Josh. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I miss my parents, and there’s a part of me that wants to crawl back into the cocoon I lived in for two years, the one where I hid from the world because you’re no longer in it. There’s a reason I don’t go into your room when I visit your parents. At first, I thought it was because I couldn’t—because I was too afraid of hurting and seeing you unable to speak or move. But I don’t think that’s it anymore. I don’t come see you because I’m selfish. I’m selfish, Josh, and I feel so awful about it, but I am. I want to forget about you. I want to remember you on that last day, moments before that man walked into our lives with his gun, but I don’t want to remember you after. I don’t want to know what you look like now, because I don’t want that vision in my head making me feel guilty for being alive. And I want to be done with you. I am cold and callous even writing this, but oh god Josh, I want to be done with you. The more I think about it, the more I know we probably would have broken up by now anyway, because as good as you were, we were young, and the me I’m growing into wants to experience more in life. There’s this guy, and he’s all I can think about, and Josh I want to love him. I’m so close to giving in, and I think if I could just let myself, he would love me back. But I can’t, because you’re always there…in the way of my life. I’m probably just angry. And I’m sorry I’m taking this out on you tonight. But it’s not like you’ll write back or see any of it. I’m not writing you any more. Not because I don’t love you, because I always will. But because I’m letting you go. I let you go, Josh. Please…please let me go too.





At some point, while reading, I started to cry. There’s a single tear waiting to fall from my eye, and I let it go. I read the entire message twice and then I delete it from my phone because I don’t want to be tempted to read it again, and I don’t want Rowe to see it. I know there’s a chance she’ll realize what she’s done eventually, but I will never bring it up. These words were private—not even meant for Josh. But reading them was just the slap in my face that I needed.

Before I can stop myself—maybe before the sense has enough time to settle in my head—I sprint from the ball fields, through campus, and to the dorms. I take the steps two at a time until I get to our floor, and I’m not even careful or quiet when I pound on her door. Light shines underneath it, so I know I’m not waking anyone; I take a deep breath when I see the shadow interrupt the light.

“Nate, it’s okay. I’m not that embarrassed. But if you bring it up again…” She’s talking through the door, and I can tell she’s looking at me through the peephole. I brace both of my arms on either side of the frame and press my forehead against the wood.

“Just open the damn door, Rowe,” I say, unable to contain the need building inside of me.

“Nate, I’m leaving tomorrow. Let’s just talk when I get back.”

“Rowe, I swear to god, if you don’t open the door I’m going to break it,” I know I’m probably frightening her, and I don’t want to. But I need her to act—I can’t have her hide, not now.

When I hear the lock twist, I grab the handle and turn it to push her door open before she or I have any time to react and think better of what I’m about to do. She’s wearing a dry shirt but the same small cotton shorts, and her hair is still damp and long against her back. Her eyes are wide while she stumbles backward a few tiny steps as I barrel into her room. I scan it quickly to make sure she’s alone, not that it would matter or stop me, but she is.

I close the distance between us quickly, and before she has time to protest, I reach my fingers deep into her wet hair with both of my hands, lifting her face toward mine just enough for my lips to touch hers, and I kiss her hard. I can feel her body shake at first, and her hands press lightly against my chest, but they stop fighting me quickly. I suck at her top lip until it’s firmly between both of mine, leaving just enough space for my tongue to brush against hers, and when I feel her tongue move against mine, I pull her even closer into me.

Her hands grab at the back of my shirt, almost like she’s fighting herself, until finally she submits, and I feel the smoothness of her palms and fingers trail up my back, to my chest, and over my shoulder until she’s grabbing my hair, pushing my mouth into hers even harder.

I walk her backward until her body is pressed flat against the wall, and I hold her hands hostage against it, her arms trapped along the sides of her body, while I press kisses along her neck and chin. I don’t want to push things, but I need to make sure she feels me, everything I’m feeling. I know I shouldn’t have read that message she sent, but I’m glad I did. It was all the proof I needed that there was this opening here, however small, and I need to step through it, crawl inside her heart. Otherwise, she’s just going to continue to fight to keep me out.