YOU ARE HERE:: JHENÉ AIKO //WAKE UP ALONE::AMY WINEHOUSE

ELEVEN: When there are no more secrets.

                 Trying not to touch him was easier than I thought, especially when we had so much to talk about. Silences weren't so awkward with him. It was a bit weird, the way we shifted so quickly back from complete nothing... to something so intimate.

                 He and Ben got a place together somewhere near college town, a bit closer to Brighton than I'd have liked if we were being honest. I thought I'd have a bit more time to get my shit together before he arrived, at least... Now, I was spending weeknights in his arms.

                Even if I wasn't a big fan of re-living what Brighton had to offer, still, it gave me him.

                The novelty of art school wore off pretty quickly when grants and savings only really covered the first two years. Looking back, following him to California felt like an alternate reality that could've saved me so much heartache.

                 I ran, it was one of my worst personality traits, therapy told me that... My dad did as well, that flighty nature must have come from him. Milo wasn't my mom's... he was baggage from a broken marriage, I didn't learn that until I'd moved out and maybe that was why my mother didn't intervene much.

                 My father was a runner, literally, he ran track in high school... he ran from his last marriage, to a new city. He fell in love with my mother on a business trip in Puerto Morelos, Milo was 4, they started a new family. I didn't realize how much I was actually like my father until then.

                  Maybe running in this situation was staying put and committing to long distance when I knew we were much too fragile. Suddenly, I had the biggest urge to have a bachelor's degree in fine art.

                 Running was what I was good at, my exes told me that enough times. I'd seen enough of the insides of European nightclubs and graffitied bathroom stalls to prove that... regretful and soaked in liquor, I'd been with enough boys for a lifetime.

                 But Jules was different. The fear that he'd see everything there was to see about me, that he'd truly know me... it was paralyzing, really. I had ugly sides, dirty, disgusting sides. I had ugly years and I was so prone to fucking everything up. I think these traits really shone in me when things felt too heavy.

                Following him could've been so tragic.

                I could've been myself and it would've been too much; it could've felt like marriage.

               Julian wasn't very in love with the idea of young marriage. It, likely, stemmed from his parents and midnight conversations confirmed that something that gave us such comfort the year before... the promise of being together, it felt like marriage.

                I worried that the persistence of his -and I quote- 'suffocation' by my affection when he was off his meds, it said more than he wanted to. Maybe the way he felt cornered by my desire to fix him was only because we were constantly on top of each other for years.

                Our last year wasn't happy.

Maybe I blamed him for that a little, I could tell he blamed himself but I didn't wanna regret getting back on that plane. I didn't wanna regret anything about us, and I had no desire to.

                 He'd hit the point in his life where he was free from small-town Brighton, Michigan. Julian could live without the constant memories of bigotry and...

                And the worst thing could be plugging myself into the equation.

Brighton had never really felt like home.

                 But I also had my mom, and we had Abuela... and life got a bit hard again. That was how I remembered it. Julian was living and breathing in LA, it was hard but he had constant new experiences and we had summers.

                                                                          I was functioning.

                The drunk I was, I kept it together most days, most days turned into more days until the days felt much too long.

                20 days now. The first two weeks were hard, they always were, it was waking up yearning -a feeling that wouldn't go away- replaced by cigarettes which were, honestly, no better. Past that hurdle, it was feeling more like routine, my days consisted of sticking around on campus to prevent myself from filling the void.

               My nights consisted of him.

              I hated that it felt like he was a fixation, all I wanted was to hold him and all he wanted to do was apologize for something that felt like a lifetime ago.

"We did a lot of things for me in our relationship."

             It was out of nowhere. Really, the past week has been kinda full of these awkward moments.

              I guess that's new for us.

               We hadn't really been friends since the pining stage. Deciding to build from the ground up, it felt like the best way to spend my weeknights.

               He had a tendency to remind me that life isn't guaranteed, that things are never as serious as they seem to be at the moment... he was a glass half-full person these days.

              Jules was taking the quarter off so he helped me with my work, psychology flash cards and 3D models were scattered over his bed. And he had slender fingers holding up two pieces of 18cm canvas board together, glued at the edges, monotonous voice asking me terms from a book.

              A gentle bark from the outside of the door creaked open so slightly and Benji's dog, Lady, was climbing up the little staircase he'd bought for her, she curled up on her little bed in the corner of his. Jules smiled.

              And I busied my hands, running fingers through soft, maltese fur.

              It felt too reminiscent, again. His words held so much and we didn't need to keep rehashing it. At the look on my face, he smiled -sheepish- and shook his head gently, messy hair bunned back.

             That goofy, high smile spread over perky cheekbones and he bit his lip. It was thoughtless almost, like he'd prepared this a while ago. I wondered how many tough conversations we would have to have. "Ben and I went on a hike the other day." I could still see nerves lingering, in the way he focused on the block in his hands.

              He nodded, "And we talked," he furrowed his brows softly, "and it was normal."

"I was scared that because I was so in my own shit, that things would be... weird." That made me frown, Ben and his relationship had never been transactional. "I actually felt guilty for being so depressed."

             And I could relate to that, as much as I hated to admit it. "My therapist was saying that... that I'm self-sabotaging, overtly independent in theory but crazily dependent on other people or-or my achievements for validation." He shrugged. "Wren says it's because I'm a Gemini and a Leo mars or something like that."

                                    Wren seemed to have a lot of opinions. "You're a Gemini sun, and a Leo moon."

               "yeah , yeah."

                "Which means that you're absolutely bonkers," He pursed his lips, feigning offense and I was so sure that, in that moment, it was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. "Like sometimes, I swear you live in an alternate reality, deluded some would say."

                "Oh, shut up."

"But you're also insanely charismatic, that might be your Libra rising really, and you always have good intentions. You can't be mad at yourself for being a little regressed, you were kicked out at seventeen."

                 "But I met you before that."

His eyes were so bright then. "And you took care of me." He shrugged, and I had half a mind to reject that. "And I, I love you for it."

                   "Jules."

                   "I always felt safe with you. Always." It felt too much. "I'm trying to be more grateful for the things that the universe has given me... in my most fragile moments, it gave me you."

                   I was pulling the pieces from his hands now, sitting them on his bedside table. I took his hands into mine, trying to ignore the yearning to be closer. "I don't know if I could've done what you did for me."

                  "I was unmedicated in California... And I was alone."

                   "And I realized that when I'm down, I'm not kind." He smiled, it somber. "I lose motivation and I-I shrink into myself and-and I say hurtful things. I did that to you, in cycles."

                  He smiled, "I never realized how awful everything is until I had to do it alone... I-I didn't know how to manage myself, and I was growing up and you stayed with me. No matter what I did."

                 I watched him, how the dog being there helped. He was petting her fur, staring at her, I wondered if Ben got the dog because of him. Julian had such good taste in people.

                   "I -uh- I had a bad spiral and things got like, really... dark for me." He shrugged, and suddenly, he looked so small. "I didn't have any help. And I didn't know what to do with that, I didn't know how to ask for help." There were tears in his eyes, and they were so soft. "Y-you've loved me better than anyone."

                   And he laughed, it short and shaky. He squeezed his eyes together with a grimace and I watched a few tears slip past. "You saved my life."

                   "So I just wanted to say thank you."

: : :

It was hot.

The air was sticky. It was sunny and sticky and kinda hot, a fan circling the air around the room and out the open window beside me. A gentle breeze and it smelled like lavender.

Jules was smoking a joint, guitar in lap, like he was a fuckin rockstar or something. I could feel a quick breeze on the skin on my stomach. I was fully fucking clothed and Julian was sitting beside me like some rock guitarist.

I thought he was more of a drummer, if anything.

His biceps looked almost edible.

How was I expected to stay fully clothed beside him when he looked like this? The night before played over and over in my mind. I could still feel his kiss tingling on my lips.

       It tasted of white wine and coming home.

        "Your boyfriend's calling."

He smiled that same smile, it easygoing and I could feel myself calming. He was referencing what I'd said the last time we'd laid like this. I didn't like the insinuation, it implied we hadn't changed.

We came to a resolution and I still wanted him despite it all.

But I tried to respect his wishes.

After our kitchen escapade, Julian had invited me to sit down with him in his apartment. He said he wanted to try getting to know each other again, said he knew that that would be hard to do without touching one another.

It was so hard to breathe near him without kissing him so I quickly objected. He said we needed to try again with clear, level heads and when I suggested a tamer approach, he laughed it off.

"I can't be rational when all I wanna do is rip your clothes off, babe."

It was smooth and it was a standalone statement... one I couldn't stop thinking about.

"He's not my boyfriend." I try not to attach too much to that but he's smiling. Its soft, reassured, he's leaning over to grab my face in his hands, nodding with a smoke cloud in his mouth, I oblige. He hovers his lips over mine, kissing me and lingering.

I could feel it in my stomach.

And my heart was in my fucking knees.

"Does he know that?" He passes the joint, the smoke tickling my nose. He laughed a little at the look on my face and I wondered what he thought Isaiah ever had on him.

Cause he was great but he wasn't Julian Douglas.

"I don't know how you make jealousy cute but you do." I think it was the furrow in his brow or the smirk full of competition. We'd never really had that before.

And even though it felt appealing, I didn't want him to think Isaiah was even still relevant. "We're not really speaking right now, so..."

He nodded, biting his lip to hide a smile and he looked down.

We sat in silence for a moment, just passing the joint back and forth, Julian played around with a d-sharp transition to finger-style.

When he'd gotten a melody, he picked up speed, adding a short chord progression I heard him working on the night prior. I wondered how long he stayed up once I fell asleep, succumbing to the lullaby of him softly playing and rain tapping on bay windows.

"How long have you been up?"

Shrug. "I don't know, twenty- thirty minutes."

"You wake and bake?"

"Sometimes."

"That start in college?" It was such a college-boy thing.

Shrug. "Danny's really into the whole recreational drug thing." He shrugged again. "I don't smoke everyday, it's not- it's not a daily thing, just a... thing."

And, as if to compensate, he explained himself... like he owed me anything. "It relaxes me, Wren has this tea blend that-"

"I'm not judging you."

He spoke so fondly, "You never do."

And it was full and knowing, a memory resurfaced. He smiled, glassy-eyed and so, so gorgeous. "Remember Malibu?"

"How could I not? We got locked out of our airbnb and it was all your fault." I remembered the night, the panic that set in around 2 am when we'd realized that our keys weren't where we'd left them, the sun had already set and Julian had a sheepish look, admitting that he'd forgotten to take the key from his swim trunks.

How could I have been mad when he was apologizing, hanging from my body, and still drunk off the three Pina coladas he'd sucked down within the 9 hours we'd been on the beach?

"We had fun that night though."

"We did."

There was a moment of rationality where we'd attempted to climb the balcony of our two story beach house, quickly realizing that they were bolted shut. Julian had looked up a few trails, determined to keep the momentum of our weekend getaway, and maybe it was poor judgement to hike up Creekwood and watch the sunrise.

But when it rose, and I could see the look on his face, everything that had gotten us there felt like collateral damage.

"I like that side of you." And it was fun to look back on the good moments.

"What side?" He laughed, joint burning between outstretched fingertips and I tugged it from his hand. "Reckless?"

"Adventurous." I corrected. "Although it was pretty reckless to drag me around Cali at 4 am."

"I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

It was too heavy, again, it was too much and my heart was beating much too fast. I took a drag, it longer than before, trying changed the subject. "So, uh, you skate now?"

"Not really." Shrug. "Wouldn't mind learning though."

That was cute. "I could teach you."

"You skate?"

"...Wow."

"What?"

"You didn't watch our videos!"

Julian smiled, it full, pushing a hand against my shoulder so gently. I missed the feeling of his touch when it was gone. "I did."

"You didn't." And it was obvious in his guilty look. It almost felt hot how he didn't look me up before we started dating... my actions spoke for me, not my reputation.

            Still, I had to pick at this. "If you did, you would know that before it became LightofDay, we made skate videos."

            They were shitty skate vids, somewhere between finding our talents and finding Rilee. I made the guys' skate decks and Brandon filmed for some low-time guys that lived in their grandma's basement and met us in Sundays. "Okay to be honest I didn't click on anything that wasn't a painting video." It was nervous, and it was blushy and God, was it gorgeous. "But that was cause it felt weird, ya know, watching you guys while I live in your house."

     "I guess."

     "Skater... twink? It's a cute look on you." I hated that I told him that, I'd never live it down.

    "So, I know you skate... I know you smoke... What else have you tried?"

                 Fuck, we were really doing this, huh? "Uhh... MDMA. Weed, obviously. Lanny's very much a stoner."

     "I didn't know Lanny smoked..."

  "He can't." Julian's brows knitted together over slitted eyes. "His lungs are trash. Uh, he likes edibles..."

  "For their sixteenth, Brandon bought him this big ass bong and he definitely almost died. We took him to the ER and he was diagnosed with some pulmonary disease so ever since then, he puts everything into music... in case it's gone one day."

"Why does the universe do this to good people?"

               That was a question I had to ask myself consistently. I shrugged. Brandon was a wreck for months after that, the doctors said if we didn't come in when we did, there was a high chance that Lanny would never speak again.

                The D.A.R.E content we put out after was, albeit extreme, and a little anticlimactic, but it soothed that ache a bit.

"...Um... I stayed away from pills but shrooms, nothing too crazy." I hoped the look in his eyes wasn't so judging.

"Nothing too crazy?" But he was giggling. "Shrooms, Pablo?"

                  "It was one time." And it was a terrible trip. "So, Lanny and I were at this rager in New York, right? Some really weird EDM party with a bunch of white YouTubers and honestly it kinda sucked... so bad that shots didn't even make it better-so... we bought shrooms off this random guy and headed back to our hotel."

                  "They kicked in when I was by myself in the elevator."

                  "Oh my god."

       At the time, it was one of the scariest moments of my entire life, and trips hadn't really been that eye-opening for me due to over-saturation. I did too many drugs, I drank to excess, the point was really moot. Now, looking back, I could laugh, so that's what I did.

I turned over, hands clasped under my head, Jules doing the same and we stared at each other for a second. I tried not to look at his lips.  I tried to make it friendly with a smile. "The elevator was moving, and I couldn't get off. And I was hallucinating, and-and mushroom trips are, like, weird."

                   "I thought that the only reason why I couldn't get to my room had to be that the receptionist knew I was high and the feds were coming to get me. So, in order to not get caught, I pressed all the buttons and was just riding the elevator up and down like 30 floors."

           "There was like a mirror on the ceiling and the floor was this super psychedelic, Vegas-y pattern and eventually I just accepted that I was gonna get arrested so I just laid down and stared at myself for 30 floors."

"Brandon had to come get me and I just threw up like, everywhere."

"Dude, gross!"

What the fuck? "Did you just dude me?" And I couldn't help myself, the laugh I let out was guttural.  "What's with this new..." motioning a hand around him, I tried to contain the chuckles at whatever new character he was, "whatever this is?"

"What?"

"You play guitar now, you fuckin' smoke weed. You're so..." hot. "...relaxed."

"I... I'm not really relaxed, per-say, I think I just realized that I can't be in the same place anymore."

I couldn't help myself. "That's hot."

"Paris Hilton."

"Gay."

He was so cute, "You have stuff to do today?"

"Not really." It was already noon, I should've expected that: "I gotta work at four. The guys were gonna go to the lake so I might do that."

"Are you gonna go back to school?"

"Come in with the hard questions then."

"Sorry."

           "It's okay." He seemed to think for a second. "I don't know."

"Why wouldn't you?"

And I worried it was too personal when he turned onto his back, eyes on the ceiling instead, we sat in silence for a moment.

With Jules, there were a lot of silences. He liked to think, overthink.

I took the moment to take in his features, I almost couldn't believe his side profile was so stunning. A button sat upon a perfectly sloped nose and freckles covered everything down to his ears. He had a sad smile on when I took a glance. "The only place I wanted to go was Santa Barbra and that was just cause everyone told me I was gonna go pro."

"It's very mentally taxing you know? I don't think college is for me."

"Jules." Guilt hit me, and it hit hard. "It's.. it's not for everybody."

"I-I think I wanted to go for my dad, you know?" He smiled, it more sincere. I'd hoped in recovery, he learned to stop beating himself up over his mother. "Cause I kinda ruined everything. I think I wanted him to be proud of me."

"He is proud of you."

He laughed, smile over rosy, bitten lips. "Yeah, I hear that twice a week from Dr. Thorpe."

"It's true." In fear of my gaze being too much, I turned to my back now, watching the ceiling fan spin lightly. A chill brushed over my heated skin, a shiver was felt in my spine. "You should hear the way he talks about you."

"It's so weird that you talk to my dad."

"Jason Douglas is a person without you, excuse me." He laughed at that. "And he's bought some of my art so..." I was grateful his family still had love for me. It made everything easier, and I felt guilty again. "Seriously though, you should be proud of yourself."

"What would you do if you didn't go back to school? Learn a trade?"

He shook his head, I could feel it against the pillow, and an oak-y smell encased me. "I think I wanna work with kids."

"Kids?"

"Yeah." I could see that. "Keenan's so smart, you know? And-and I go to his games. They play cause they love it, and that's really... nice to be around? I don't know." He shrugged. "There's some purity there."

"I'll probably go back. Save up, get my bachelors in kinesiology or something."

"What about writing?"

"It's a hobby. I don't love it enough to make it a career." And I understood that.

"I think I'm starting to-to like myself again. I don't wanna do something that makes me miserable." He shook his head, again, "I can't live like that." It was a whisper.

It was silent again, and that statement felt heavy but I remembered how he'd once asked me to make space for his bad thoughts, to let him let them out. I let it linger in the air until he felt comfortable again.

"I think we've overcomplicated this."

"Over complicated what?"

"Life." It was simple, the way he said it. "Like we push ourselves so hard sometimes. We're told that we have to have all of this shit figured out but it's just waking up everyday and thinking about what you're doing and deciding if-if you like it. If things bring you joy."

"You've really thought about this." Julian Samuel Douglas, the philosopher, it had a ring to it. "So, what, you'd coach like kids soccer? Little league? That what it's called?"

"Yeah."

"You'd be good at that."

"You think so?"

I did. "You're great with kids, and you're really kind." At his deadpan, I scrunched my nose. "Okay, you can be an ass sometimes."

"Am not!" He was sitting up on his elbows then, turned towards me and fuck, did that make my heart spin.

"Jules you are not the nicest person."

"Name one instance where I've been an ass."

"Well..."

"To children."

Lol. "You have a good heart, that's what kids see."

He tried to hide his smile and then he was leaning over me to grab his ashtray. Sitting up, he crossed his legs and I caught a peek of a new tattoo on his thigh. It was some wavy pattern, abstraction and I tried to avoid staring. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

He was sparking up again. "You know, how's life?"

The shrug was accompanied with a passing of his joint and I found myself leaning against his headboard. "Decent."

"You been to a meeting?"

"I don't wanna talk about that."

"You never wanna talk about it." Not talking about it did me good. "Pablo, you gotta go..."

"I know."

"It'll be better if you talk about it." It won't, I'm not like you. My alcoholism is my fault.

"I'm 22 days today." And this was probably around that make amends time, it weighed on me heavy but there was so much pride in his eyes. He looked at me like his heart had burst out of his chest and he was putting the joint down, putting the ashtray on his bedside table.

And he hugged me.

I choked up when he placed his hands on my cheeks, pulling me away so gently. He was staring into my eyes, so much love in his it scared me and I knew I was crying. "I'm so proud of you." He pressed his forehead to mine for a moment, and then leant up to kiss in between my brows.

: : :

                  Somewhere around Isaiah moving his things out of our apartment, I found it in me to clear the air. Being with Julian the past few weeks had helped, talking to him had helped.

                 Re-remembering the fact that what had happened to me was simply, not my fault, that helped.

                  Isaiah was taking a break from packing, apparently he'd asked around and Deon, that model he'd been dating before, they'd reconnected... and he had an extra room. I wondered if this was the universe giving Izzy his happy ending.

                 A slight jealousy bit at me.

                 Sitting on his bare bed, watching him go through DVDs, I overthought how much I wanted to say, I reminded myself that this might be the last chance I'd have. So I tried to be honest. "I've been sexually assaulted, a-a few times."

                 It caught him by surprise, and he turned to look at me. His brows knitted together and I continued. "The last time was really bad." 

                  He didn't look like he knew what to say, I was used to that. I didn't tell a lot of people but when I did, they all gave me that look. "I should've told you that before engaging in a sexual relationship with you. I'm sorry—"

                  "Never apologize for that."

                   Just that, just that was enough to make me remember our relationship before, how important he was to me, how much he cared for me. "I need to focus on me."

                   The way his face fell, I knew he was still holding on to some semblance of us. I interlocked our fingers, holding his hand to my face, I placed the softest kiss on his knuckles. "And I never, I can never do that. I've always been scared to do that."

                   "I can't be scared anymore."  And he seemed to understand that. "I let my relationships with men take... everything from me. My-my family, my career, who I am."

                    Isaiah frowned. And I motioned between us. "Whatever this is?" And it hurt, it hurt cause part of me loved him. "It's real and I know that I'm not ready for it." I'd ghosted Carlos with the heartbreak from Iz.  "I'd ruin it."

                    "I like you... a-a lot more than I wanted to. I can't let you love me..."

                    "...I just, I do this thing where I fall in love with someone and I-I stop working on myself. You know, I-I make me about them. And I haven't been single, like really single for so long... I-I have to care about me."

                    "I didn't say anything about falling in love, Paul. We can take it as slow as you need." He was getting off the bed, turning to squat in front of me, he was holding my hands and he was looking up into my eyes with so much hope. "We don't even have to-to call it a relationship, I just want us to be honest with each other."

                  "I'm not good for you."

                   "That's a cop out."

                    "I—"

                    "I'm being honest, Iz, I don't do slow."

                     "Paul-"

                   "You are so easy to love." He needed to know that. "It's why I keep this wall up."

                      "But you don't want me, I don't need to hear it again."

: : :

Twenty minutes of silence later, Julian's hand was re-wrapped around the neck of his guitar. A gentle strumming of some Hozier song I forgot the name of and he was spilling all his secrets. "Can I... can I tell you something?" It was soft, nervous almost.

Julian didn't look up from his guitar when I nodded.

Still, he offered truth. "It -uh- it hurt me... a lot, that you were with him."

I let it linger, gave it a second cause I knew it took a lot to say. We were trying this whole blatant truth thing these days, trying to get to know each other without the fear of judgement.

Julian looked at me, finally, a soft smile flickering on the corners of a grimace, it was gone before I could fully take it in.

And fuck, I never thought about that.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." It wasn't enough, I tried to make it so.

"I know. I just, I feel like it's something that we need to talk about."

"Okay."

How didn't I think about how much that would probably hurt? Maybe I did... maybe the part of my brain that forgot it was also the part that wanted to hurt him back. I didn't think I was capable of it.

I wanted to hurt Nic back. I slept with Brandon because of it, I slept with some random guy in Spain... I knew I could be vindicative if the circumstances allowed. He wouldn't do that to me.

I never wanted to hurt Jules. I couldn't believe that I hadn't thought about it until now.

"I just, I think that that should've been something that was off limits? Like— he-he shouldn't have been an option, cause we met him together."

He wrung his hands together, avoiding my gaze, fingers pressed back to the strings as he spoke. "It made me really insecure about our relationship after the fact, and that's on me for-for I guess, not trusting you... when you didn't give me any reason to feel that way."

"I just, I kept thinking that there was no way you could... openly be with him, without being with him for a wh-while? You never really posted me, it took a year for us to even hold hands at your events... and I know, social media is not super important but, but for a while it was your career?"

Fuck.

"It just, it felt..."

I recalled his words. "Like I didn't care."

He nodded. "About me, about what we had."

"When-when I saw him in your place-"

"I don't wanna talk about Izzy."

"Paul."

"I really don't." He must've felt the pain in my voice cause he stared for a second, and nodded.

I wasn't sure why Julian was so adamant on absolving me of sin. "That wasn't fair of me, it wasn't. It was hurtful and it-it was cruel."

"Did you love him?"

It was a lot, the question, he knew it was when he asked.

And I didn't wanna answer, not truthfully, but he had that look in his eyes again. I think he knew the answer already, he wanted to see if I'd tell him.

Abrasive honesty. He asked for that. "Yeah."

Gaging his response, I continued. "A little bit." And I tried not to cry, I tried to choke back the tears but they laced themselves into the words. I could feel myself sobbing in seconds. "My grandma... got sick again and it was-it was so hard, you know, and he was-he was kind."

He nodded.

It was so silent, I feared I might've fucked it all up but Julian was so good at anticipating my feelings before they happened. He was holding my hand in his, thumb brushing over my knuckles. He looked deep into my eyes, earnestly and unavoidably. I knew he felt his words with so much sincerity.

"I'm trying." He didn't speak. "Jules."

"I promise that I'm trying."

He didn't speak until my voice broke again. "Hey."

"You should never have had to go through all of that alone, okay? Don't apologize for that, I-"

He was taking my face into his hands now, cradling my chin and he nodded, "I'm so grateful that someone was there for you when I couldn't be." God, did I love him.

: : :

"It was Calum."

The confession was accompanied by a nervous laugh, as if he shouldn't have said it. I felt my head whip over to watch him. I hoped it was a joke. He sat in his bed, my body perched upon a spinning desk chair as I finished my assignment.

Turning to meet his eyes, I dared him to continue.

"What?"

"The guy." And he looked so ashamed. "It was Calum. At the college bars..." he was sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes on his carpet and he was running a hand up and down his arm, cowering into himself.

"I -uh- I didn't say anything cause I've been... embarrassed?" I watched tears drop, watched him shake his head and wipe them away, "I didn't want you to think of me like that." And he was leaning up, sleeve covered hands tucked between his thighs.

"Like what?"

"Weak."

He shrugged. "When I-I remembered him telling me that he loved me. I was hurting you, I was so depressed and you tried so hard to love me a-and I thought, maybe that's all I deserve..."

"Maybe I pushed my luck, and you'd finally realize how fucked up I was. I broke up with you for nothing, and I didn't think you'd take me back."

"Jules."

"I didn't feel anything." He continued. "The whole time. He-he was looking at me and I didn't feel anything. He told me he loved me and I didn't feel anything." He was red, he was coughing on tears.

I didn't know what to say. "You could've told me."

"That I have no self-respect and that I broke your heart and slept with the guy that tried to kill me in high school?" He laughed, it somber. "I didn't think we could recover from that."

: : :

ALONE

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: : :

"Thank you for telling me."

A/N:

Happy pride month loves.

Updated: Sunday, June 12th.