I'm Not Saying Goodbye

I’ve never been told that I need to be broken. But Taylor’s exact words were: Alex, you’re only halfway broken. You can’t love, you can’t lose, you can’t care. You need to find him, and get broken so you can get better. I bought you a one-way ticket to your hometown.

I don’t even know how she found out I lived in Maryland, but she did. And she had me packed and out of our apartment in less than three hours.

I was on the plane going across the country no less than thirty minutes after that.

Which brings us to now, with me standing around with my one suitcase and carry-on, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now. I haven’t talked to anyone in the Lutherville-Timonium area for two years, since I left.

Even my mom and dad haven’t heard from me. No emails, no calls, no letters, nothing. Which I feel bad about, but they would have asked questions. Questions I couldn’t have answered, and still can’t. They would have talked to the Barakats, and Jack would have found out. Though I highly doubt he would have cared at all.

But they also would have called the police, because leaving home when you’re sixteen is not legal. But I couldn’t go back to Maryland and I sure as hell wasn’t going to juvie for something as stupid as running away. Or, you know, whatever they do to run-aways that get caught.

Get me out of this place before I cause more damage,
a small price to pay for building houses out of matchsticks.
And when things get too hot, you've got me to blame for
every fire that breaks out in every lover's name, so...

I sigh, and rub my closed eyes before I start out the automatic doors of the airport. I’m going to get a cab, go into town, and then figure out what to do from there.

I hail a cab, and then before I know what I’m saying, I give the driver my address. My old one, where I lived with my parents.

Before I left.

I groan, glad he doesn’t try to start conversation like most cabbies I get, but wonder what I’m doing. I try to open my mouth to say to drop me off somewhere else, that I don’t want to go there after all, but I can’t.

I’m going home, and I can only hope my parents aren’t home.

And they aren’t, thank God. I pay the cabbie, take my bags and go up to the front door. I reach into the (fake) potted plant for the door key, and unlock it. I push openour the white door and the screen one before stepping inside.

I don’t close the doors behind me, only look around. It feels so unfamiliar, but everything’s the exact same as when I left.

I used to live here, I think as I close the doors and haul my bags up the stairs. I turn right and go to the room at the end of the hallway. I nudge the door open and just stare at my room. My old room, anyway.

It’s the exact way I left it.

And it's so different from the apartment I share with Taylor.

“Whoa,” I say, and sit down on the floor. It’s all too much. Coming home is like stepping back in time. Like I never left. Like the past two years never happened.

Don't forget, we've got unfinished business,
stories yet to unfold,
tales that must be retold,
and I regret not knowing when to put an end to all this madness,
keeps me wanting,
keeps me wanting more...

Curious, I look to my left to see the Barakats’ home. And there’s Jack’s room, exactly the same. Only there’s a girl with dark brown hair, down to her waist, sitting on his bed. And though it shouldn’t, my heart starts throbbing and tries to pull me towards his room.

Or at least, that’s what it feels like.

But I have to get up, to see who it is. Because she seems familiar, too. I stand and walk to the window, watching her.

I feel creepy, because for ten minutes, I’m waiting for her to turn around so I can see her face. I feel like I could major in fucking Stalkerism or teach a course on Stalker Mannerisms or something.

That's how creepy I feel, watching this poor girl.

And I mean, I left for two years, come back out of the blue, sneak into my parent’s house, and watch my ex-best friend’s house, waiting for his probably-girlfriend to turn around so I can see her. That has to be the definition of "creepy".

And then I realize that maybe it isn’t my parents house, and I’m in some freak’s house who just so happens to like to kill teenage boys like me and stuff them - but wait. That’s ridiculous.

My room’s the same. The key was in the same place. Of course my parents still live here.

But does Jack?

And then the girl turns around and I blink. She has the same haircut and is waving her hands around. She’s laughing into her phone, and I grin.

It’s May.

She probably hates me, and if she saw me standing here, she’d probably scream, and throw something at me. But it means the Barakat family still lives next door.

Which means Jack still lives next door. And because it’s the summer, he’ll be home. Which means I’ll be able to see him. My heart speeds up thinking about Jack, but I scold myself. I haven’t even seen him yet and I’m already being an idiot.

Sell me out, I'm yesterday's old news.
Phrases left on paper,
black ink bleeding through the pages where we made our history.
Call me foolish,
I feel hopeless...

I don’t get to be sad that he’s here. Happy either, for that matter. Not yet. For right now, I get to talk to him. That's it. But I know May, and I know she’s going to look over here, and too late I realize I left the door open with my bags right there, and hit the floor, hoping she doesn’t notice.

But a few minutes later, I hear the door open and curse because I have the key in my hand and left the front door unlocked. Quickly, as she calls “Hello?” from the doorway, I crawl under the bed.

I know she won’t leave and I know she’ll come into the room, but I hope she won’t check under the bed. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and squeeze my eyes closed when they turn towards my room.

I wonder why I’m hiding. I mean, it’s just May. It’s just Jack’s sister.

But she was always protective of him. Besides me, May was the one closest to Jack. And I imagine that when Jack went home on that night, and maybe ones before it, she was the one who held him when he cried.

Which would explain why she started hating me a year before that.

I see her feet walking into the room and hold my breath. She mumbles to herself, walks over to the window, and is walking out of the room when my phone starts ringing.

“Fuck! Shut the hell up, shut the hell up!”

But she dives for the bed and lifts the covers. I look up from my phone, now quiet, and smile nervously. I half-wave, but before I can say anything, she’s screaming at me.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Gaskarth?!” And then her hands are all over me - but not like that. She’s grabbing my hair, my clothes, my everything, either trying to kill me or drag me out from under the bed. I can’t tell which.

“Jesus, May! Just let me get out from under the bed!” I yell. “I can explain!” She doesn’t stop her assault for a few minutes, and then she’s gone. I still see her legs because she pulled up the covers, but that’s all I see.

I climb out quickly, and step back almost immediately, falling onto the bed as May’s finger is poking my chest and in my face at the same time.

“What the fuck, what the fuck?!” she’s yelling, repeating it until I stand and cover her mouth with my hands. She struggles, trying to punch or scratch me, but I grab her and force her into my chest. With one arm pinning her arms to her side and the other stopping her talking, I finally say, “Will you shut up and listen to me?”

She hesitates, but then slowly nods.

I breathe out, and smile. “Alright. I know that two years ago, I hurt Jack-” she struggles, trying to say something, but I just tighten my grip and ignore the teeth trying to bite my hand. “-which is why I left. Because I hurt him. I know why and how now, and I know it wasn't right. But... I came back to fix it, I guess.”

Then, before I can say anything else, she elbows me in my manliness, and as I’m curled on the ground holding it, she leans over and spits at me with venom. “You guess?! You ripped out his heart and trampled on it! And now he’s finally happy and you come back in the picture. And you can't do anything but guess?”

I wince, only because she said that he’s happy. She notices it and kics my hands covering my parts and hisses, “No! You don’t get to be like that! You don’t get sympathy and you don’t get to talk to him! You broke him! You’re not allowed to feel anything at all! You can’t be here!” She’s screaming at the end of it, and I stand.

Running from lions never felt like such a mistake
(Like a deer in the headlights)
Running from lions never felt like such a mistake
(I won't know what hit me...)
Running from lions never felt like such a mistake
(Like a deer in the headlights)
Running from lions never felt like such a...
(I won't know what hit me...)

“I know,” I whisper, tenderly moving my hands into my pockets and stepping away from her, towards the window. “But I have to. I have to see him.”

“No!”

I ignore her, and continue talking. “May, I want him to forgive me. I want to be friends again. But I know that probably won’t happen. I know he’s probably going to return the favor. Knock me down and kick me until I bleed. But I have unfinished business and I’m going to finish it. Even if he hates me and hurts me back. I need this.”

“You’re not-” I grab her shoulders and sigh before I start walking her backwards. She tries to hit me, but I’m expecting it and I’m stronger than her.

We get to the doorway, and I stop shoving. “Please get out of my house, May,” I say before I close the door on her face and lock it.

Sure, she’s stands outside my bedroom door for about thirty minutes, screaming at me, but then she leaves. I watch her storm to her car, flip me off, and drive away. I sigh and take out the house key, actually locking it behind me when I leave. I'm glad May finally left, not only because it means I get to leave but because it means she won't stop me. Although she never went there, she knows enough about the park where I met Jack that she could find it, no problem.

I go because I have a feeling he’s going to be there.

And for once, the world is on my side. He’s there, sitting on the swings.

There’s nothing to hold me back. No younger sister to scream at me. Just me... and Jack.

And two years of tension, but I can overlook that.

I walk forward. Standing right behind him, I notice he’s wearing earphones and smile. Same old Jack.

I push him, sending him upward with the swing. He rips out his earphone, but I just push him higher and say, “Jack.”

He freezes and lets the iPod slips out of his hand. I push him again and he stays mid-turn, clenching the chains.

Then, before I can push him again, he jumps off the swing. “Alex.” The swing’s between us, creaking every time it sways as far as it will go until it stops.

My voice is warm while his voice is cold. He stares at me blankly. I offer him a smile.

“Look, I just-”
“Look, I just-”

I grin at the way we say it at the same time, like we used to, but he just rubs his arm uncomfortably and looks at the ground. The smile drops from my face. “Jack, I-” He interrupts me.

“I wish I could say it was nice seeing you, Alex, but it wasn't. I’ve gotta go.” He jogs off the other way and I frown, watching him retreat.

I'm not going to give up, of course. Alexander William Gaskarth always gets what he wants, and right now, that happens to be Jack Bassam Barakat.

I just have to find out how to make him forgive me.

Don't forget, we've got unfinished business,
stories yet to unfold,
tales that must be retold,
and I regret not knowing when to put an end to all this madness,
keeps me wanting,
keeps me wanting more...