I'm Not Saying Goodbye

I got home as my mother pulled in the driveway. I watch as she gets out of her car and starts running at me. I laugh and open my arms, and she hugs me tightly, rocking back and forth and crying and muttering gibberish.

“I missed you too, Ma. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” I say, and I feel better. A whole lot better, actually.

But I’ve still got Jack to deal with, and until we’re together, I know I’ll always be down. Her talking is confusing me, so I grab her shoulders and smile. “I missed your cooking.” She shoves me in the house and closes the door behind her.\

“You little annoying idiot! You leave for two years, and think you can just demand food!” But she’s smiling, and I know she’s teasing.

I smile back innocently, and bat my eyelashes. “Pwetty, pwetty pwease, with cherries on top?” She laughs and hugs me again before leading me into the kitchen. We talk as she cooks, and during dinner, and she even tucks me in. I don’t ask where Dad is; he’s always on business trips, and even though I miss him now, I know I’ll see him.

Now that Mom and I are mother and son again, I really feel like I’m at home.

L.A. never did it for me. Taylor knew that, and I did too, deep down. I just needed a shove out of the deep end, and a one-way ticket home did that for me. Staring at the dark ceiling above me, I roll over and pick up my phone. It’s 3:14 in the morning, but I know Taylor’s going to be up.

I call her, and on the second ring, she picks up. “What’s up, bro?” she asks, and I sigh before hanging up. Talking to Taylor won’t help. I close my eyes before I roll out of bed. I know I left my iPod under the bed, so I reach under it, but instead of an iPod, my hand hits a notebook.

I frown, curious, and pull it out. It’s black, one of the one’s from Target that’s only 75 pages long, and like, a dollar ninety-nine. I wonder how I didn’t notice it before, but shrug it off.

I open it, and immediately recognize Jack’s writing. I read through the whole thing in the moonlight. They’re all letters to me. The first one is from when we were thirteen, and the last one is from three days after I left.

I said I'd never forget your face,
vaulted away inside my head
and memories never seem to fade,
you were the best part of my life,
my last regret.

Now I've walked this line a thousand times before,
it hurts too much to bear.
For you,
I'd tear out my own heart
and write our names together.

Your love is the barrel of a gun.
So tell me, am I on the right end?
I could be nothing but a memory to you.
Don't let this memory fade away.

And in the end, we're turning on and off again.
There's a look in your eye,
and it's screaming goodbye.
I'd hate to watch you cry.

Your love is the barrel of a gun.
So tell me, am I on the right end?
I could be nothing but a memory to you.
Don't let this memory fade away.

There's a look in your eye and its screaming goodbye.
Now it tears me apart just to look at the sky.
And I’d hate to watch you cry,
I’d hate to watch you cry.

Your love is the barrel of a gun.
So tell me, am I on the right end?
I could be nothing but a memory to you.
Don't let this memory fade away.
...
...
No. I’m not, am I Alex?
Jack

I bow my head and breathe in a few times. Then I look down at the notebook in my lap and skim my finger across the pages before realizing that the last page is ripped out. I stare blankly at the cardboard cover before smiling.

I know how I’m going to get him to forgive me.

I grab a pen and head outside. Ma’s sleeping , so she won’t ask questions about where I’m going, or what I’m doing.

Which is good, because I really don’t know what I’m doing. All I know is that if it doesn’t work, I’m going to end up broken, just like Taylor said.

I start getting ready, stopping by Target to get a notebook, and a whistle.

After I’m finished with everything, I realize I forgot my cell phone. I shrug, knowing it’s probably for the best. I call her on a pay phone, and she answers, although she almost hangs up. I tell her my plan, and it takes me twenty minutes to get her to agree. Finally, she does, and I tell her where to meet me. By the time I get home, the sun’s rising.

May’s sitting on my front porch, wearing only her pajamas and a mean scowl. I wave pleasantly, but she only hisses, “I hope this doesn’t work.”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “I know you don’t May, but I can make him happy. I know I can. I just have to stop fucking up all the time.”

She gasps sarcastically, holding a hand to her chest. “What, is hell going to freeze over too?” For the first time, I really want to strangle May. But she’s an important part of my plan, so that would defeat the purpose.

“Look May, if it doesn’t work out, you get to rub it in my miserable face for the rest of my life. If it does, your brother ends up happy. Alright? So suck it up.” At her glare, I add, “Please.”

She huffs, and says, “I don’t want to. But I want you crushed.” Again I roll my eyes, but she’s already walking next door, to get Jack. I run up to my room, grab my guitar and stop. Looking out the window, I watch May talking to Jack. I almost race outside to follow Jack on his journey, but I don’t. I wait until his car pulls out to start practicing the song over, and over, and over again.

I do it until I hear a car pulling into the driveway. I’m anxious, hearing the car door open, and then close. My heart starts beating wildly, and no matter how many deep breaths in and out I take, I still feel like I’m going to faint.

Him coming here means he could forgive me. It means he’s curious.

But it doesn’t mean I’m in the clear yet.

I hear him coming up the stairs, and my hands tighten on my lap.

I can’t do this. And then I shake my head at the thought. I will.

He turns towards my room, and I start breathing faster. No. I get my hands in position.

The knob turns.

And I start playing.

“I watched the proverbial sunrise
coming up over the Pacific and
you might think I'm losing my mind,
but I will shy away from the specifics...

'cause I don't want you to know where I am,
'cause then you'll see my heart
in the saddest state it's ever been.

And this is no place to try and live my life.

Stop right there.
That's exactly where I lost it.
See that line?
Well, I never should have crossed it.
Stop right there.
Well I never should have said that.
It's the very moment that
I wish that I could take back.

I'm sorry for the person I became.
I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change.
I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again,
'cause who I am hates who I've been.
Who I am hates who I've been.

I talk to absolutely no one.
Couldn't keep to myself enough.
And the things bottled inside have finally begun
to create so much pressure that I'll soon blow up.

I heard the reverberating footsteps
synching up to the beating of my heart.
And I was positive that unless I got myself together,
I would watch me fall apart.

And I can't let that happen again
'cause then you'll see my heart
in the saddest state it's ever been.

And this is no place to try and live my life.

Who I am hates who I've been,
and who I am will take the second chance you gave me.
Who I am hates who I've been,
'cause who I've been only ever made me...

So sorry for the person I became.
So sorry that it took so long for me to change.
I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again
'cause who I am hates who I've been.
Who I am hates who I've been.”

I look up and smile sadly at Jack. One tear falls from his eye before he whispers, “I’m sorry.” He starts to turn, and I can feel my heart breaking.

“You’re more than a memory Jack!” He freezes, and I put my guitar on the bed before crossing over to him. I cup his face with my hand and murmur, “You can let this all be a memory, Jack. But you don’t have to. We can write our names together Jack. We can make it work.”

He closes his eyes and says, “Alex.”

And it’s there. When he says that, I know it’s over. My hand falls to my side, and Jack starts to get blurry. Like me, he quotes his song. “You were my last regret. I’ve walked this line a thousand times and it hurts too much to bear.”

He hands me back the whistle, the one we used to use when we got lost on fieldtrips and shit, and then leaves, and soon, my cheeks are wet. I don’t notice when my mother gets back. All I can do is stand in the same spot and look at the winding staircase. Over and over in my mind, I see him walking away.

And now I know how Jack felt.

Finally, I feel everything catching up to me. I have a pounding headache, and I’m still crying. But I don’t take Advil, or try and wipe my tears. I only stumble over to my bed and crawl under the covers. For a few hours, I lay like that, alone and crying, just staring at the wall.

And then my phone rings. I’ve got a text, and I reach for it slowly. I slip it open, and almost hit ignore. I don’t want to talk to Taylor. Then I decide I need to go back to L.A. My roomie will find some hot guy for me, and we’ll happily ever after.

So I open the text, and read it about a thousand times over. Go get him.

Somehow, Taylor can read my mind. Even across the coast. Go get him, go get him, go get him. And I roll over, leaving my phone on the other side of the bed.

But that makes me roll over onto the whistle. It jabs me in the hip and I open my eyes. I pull it out and hold it above me, before throwing the covers off and walking down the stairs. My mother calls out to me, but I ignore her and walk out the door. With the whistle in my hand and no shoes on my feet, I start running to the park.

And Jack’s there again, back on the swing. He’s lightly swaying back and forth, and he’s not wearing shoes either. Just like when we met.

I raise the whistle to my lips and blow as hard as I can and when he turns around, I run at him as fast as I can. He doesn’t move, and I tackle him off the swing, landing hard on him. I spit the whistle out and hurry to speak before he can.

“Jack, I’m so fucking lost without you. And I know you hate me, and I know I was a dick, but I’ve changed. And I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you, but I really need to know if you want to be my boyfriend.”

He just stares at me, so I keep talking. Because he’s making me nervous, and I can’t have this silence, because it means no, and I know it means no. “And I know it’s so cheesy, but I really meant the song, and the whistle, and I read your notebook, and I’m so sorry I hurt you, but if you give me a second chance, I promise I’ll really try. And I never really liked Holly anyway, I just dated her ‘cause she was the exact opposite of you, and you’re not supposed to like your best friend, and I was scared because you were so totally not-”

“How’d you know?” he cuts me off, and I have no clue what he’s talking about.

“Huh?” He’s so going to break up with me - or, I mean, say no. ‘Cause you can’t break up with someone you were never dating, right?

Jesus. See, this is what happens to me when I get nervous.

“Relient k? That’s my favorite song by them.” I stare at him blankly. And this time, I can hear my heart breaking.

“My roommate back in California listened to it all the time. I thought it fit, ‘cause, you know, it... does.” He nods, and then it’s silent.

So I get up, and start to walk away. Because he was obviously going to say no.

And then I hit the ground, spit out woodchips, and turn my head sideways to see what tackled me. Jack looks back at me, frowning. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home. I mean, so I can pack and go back to L.A. ‘Cause I mean, you obviously don’t want to be my boyfriend, so I’m just gonna-”

“Why do you always run?” he asks, and I frown. He rolls his eyes, and explains. “Every time something goes wrong, or you get scared, you run away. You always have. Why?”

I shrug. I honestly never noticed, but now that he said that, I realize that I do. I think for a minute before opening my mouth. “I don’t like rejection. If I run away, then I don’t have to face it.”

He smiles and leans down. “Maybe.” I stare at him for a second, then realize what he means and grin back. “Yes.” I laugh and try to turn around. He won’t let me, so I pout, and he just laughs.

“What made you change your mind?” I ask, and without hesitation, he grins.

“The whistle. Definitely the fucking whistle.”

I laugh, and then we kiss.

And that is how I, Alexander William Gaskarth, got my heart broken and repaired in the same day.

Aaaaaaannnnd in case you were wondering, May did come around. But only after she set my two bags (still unpacked) on fire, and threw my guitar out the window.

But I’ll take that. ‘Cause now I’ve got Jack.