"Billie, This Is So Wrong, but I Love You."
Chapter Eight.
I vaguely remember the day my Aunt and Uncle died, now. I hardly ever replay it.
The only thing I think about is Billie. I loved him so much.
Being locked in this psychiatric hospital for five and a half years has taught me something.
Never, ever trust a boy you love. Never.
Sure, he'd come to visit me sometimes, of course he did. Frequently at first, and then less and less. The last time I saw him was that day.
The day he told me he had found a girl. He'd found a new love.
I couldn't breathe, I was so upset. I tried to mask my pain, pretending to be happy for him.
"It just can't work with us, Clara." He'd said. "You're still only seventeen. And I love Adrienne, I really do. Maybe... Maybe more than you."
My heart cracked. It broke in two the second he said those words.
"I know. I feel the same. I've met someone in here, too. But we can still be friends, right? Always friends?"
"Always. As soon as you get out come and visit me, promise."
"I promise."
"And I forgot to tell you, but I have this band, called Green Day, and we're recording our first album soon. Adrienne and I are moving into my house together. I'm thinking about proposing. What do you think?"
Was he stupid? Asking me what I thought? I loved him! We just broke up!
"Well, I don't really know her, so I can't say. But if it makes you happy, go ahead."
It was getting hard for me to hold the tears back by now, so I stood up.
"I have to get going. I have group soon. Bye, Billie."
Our hands linked in a shake, and I knew this was going to be our last encounter. He did too, and lent in to kiss my cheek. Those fucking stubborn tears had creped out of my eyes by then, and I knew he could taste them. I knew he could see how upset I was.
"Bye, Clara."
He turned on his heels and walked out of the hospital, and I made my way back to my room, crying and screaming so hard my throat turned raw and my eyes so puffy I couldn't see out of them.
See what you did to me?
See what you did to me, Billie Joe?
The only thing I think about is Billie. I loved him so much.
Being locked in this psychiatric hospital for five and a half years has taught me something.
Never, ever trust a boy you love. Never.
Sure, he'd come to visit me sometimes, of course he did. Frequently at first, and then less and less. The last time I saw him was that day.
The day he told me he had found a girl. He'd found a new love.
I couldn't breathe, I was so upset. I tried to mask my pain, pretending to be happy for him.
"It just can't work with us, Clara." He'd said. "You're still only seventeen. And I love Adrienne, I really do. Maybe... Maybe more than you."
My heart cracked. It broke in two the second he said those words.
"I know. I feel the same. I've met someone in here, too. But we can still be friends, right? Always friends?"
"Always. As soon as you get out come and visit me, promise."
"I promise."
"And I forgot to tell you, but I have this band, called Green Day, and we're recording our first album soon. Adrienne and I are moving into my house together. I'm thinking about proposing. What do you think?"
Was he stupid? Asking me what I thought? I loved him! We just broke up!
"Well, I don't really know her, so I can't say. But if it makes you happy, go ahead."
It was getting hard for me to hold the tears back by now, so I stood up.
"I have to get going. I have group soon. Bye, Billie."
Our hands linked in a shake, and I knew this was going to be our last encounter. He did too, and lent in to kiss my cheek. Those fucking stubborn tears had creped out of my eyes by then, and I knew he could taste them. I knew he could see how upset I was.
"Bye, Clara."
He turned on his heels and walked out of the hospital, and I made my way back to my room, crying and screaming so hard my throat turned raw and my eyes so puffy I couldn't see out of them.
See what you did to me?
See what you did to me, Billie Joe?