Here We Go Again

I closed the door behind me, stamping my boots on the mat my mom had laid out. I pulled off my mitts, laying the grocery bag on the floor. I hung up my jacket before running my fingers through my hair, in which tiny icicles had formed in the time it took to get from the driveway to the house.

The snow had really started to come down, and the beautiful sight had cheered me up. The houses I passed by were all lit up, and the background of fresh snow added a perfect touch to the scene. My spirits lifted even more as scents from the kitchen drifted past my nose.

As soon as I entered the kitchen and offered to help, my mom shooed me away.

"Go get ready, honey. I'm almost done here," she assured me as she took the grocery bag from my hand. Before I could speak again, she had turned her back to me and was working at something on the stove.

I headed upstairs and into the bathroom. I grabbed a shower and headed into my room, rubbing my hair dry with a towel. My thoughts were on my family - I was excited to see them. There were a lot of them that I hadn't seen in a while.

I slipped on my red skirt and white blouse, humming along to some Christmas carol I had heard on the radio. I headed over to my bedside table, looking for my straightener. I felt a lump form in my throat as my eyes landed on a picture of Taylor and I that I hadn't moved since summer. It was one he had taken himself of the two of us, and we were squished together, huge smiles on our faces from laughing so hard at his previous failed attempts.

My heart sank, and I stifled a sigh.

I didn't know why I even kept the picture there. Every time I saw it, I felt my stomach drop.

***

I had looked at the ceiling for so long that I could have sworn I was in a mental institution. When I finally rolled my head to the side to glance at my phone, the colors of my dorm room seemed abnormal in contrast to the white I had been staring at for, it seemed like, hours.

My eyes adjusted to the screen of my phone, only to find the same thing that had been there the last five times I had checked. Nothing.

My eyes wandered to the clock on my beside table. It read: 12:15 am. 15 minutes past my birthday... 15 minutes to realize that Taylor had actually forgotten it.

***

I woke up in morning to a beep from Skype on my computer. My roommate had gone to class, and so I was alone. I squinted to see who was calling me. As I read the name Tay, I felt angry. That was the only way to put it. I was mad.

Our Skype dates had gotten shorter and shorter, and though that had hurt, it was kind of expected. But when phone calls and texts that took two seconds to type stopped coming in, I had found myself about ready to give up.

And then he forgot my birthday.

I closed my eyes as the beeping stopped, trying to hold back the frustrated tears. I rolled over onto my side, my eyes flashing open as my phone began to buzz. A tear slid down my cheek as I stared at my phone without making a move to pick up the call.

***

I burst into laughter as my uncle finished telling a joke, my smile growing bigger as my whole family joined in. When I managed to breathe, a took a sip of water, the smile ever present on my lips.

I loved my family. We didn't see each other often, but when we did, we always had a blast.

We had long since finished dinner, but the adults had been chatting around the table while the kids went downstairs. The dessert was being passed around now, and I listened with a grin as my two older cousins, Luke and Jake, bickered over who would get the bigger slice of strawberry pie. I rolled my eyes, taking the lemon meringue pie from my aunt and setting it down in front of me, ready to take a slice. I had finished cutting myself a piece and was about to fork it onto my plate when the doorbell rang.

"That's probably aunt Lisa," my mom piped up. "They called and said they'd be late, and to save them supper."

I stood up from my chair, since I was the closest to the door, and dodged a whack from my uncle. I let out a giggle and hurried to the front door. I opened it, about to give some big, sarcastic, dramatic speech to my aunt about being late. I stopped in my tracks, mouth open to speak, when I realized it wasn't my aunt standing in my doorway after all.

"Where have you been?"

The words left Taylor's mouth as soon as our video call connected. I bit my lip, looking down at my bed and picking at a thread in my blanket.

"Here. You?"

"Everywhere." He paused. "How are you? I've missed you." His voice got softer as he spoke the last three words, and I let out a remorseful laugh, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

"No, you haven't."

Taylor didn't say anything. I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand as a few tears slid through. I looked up at him through the computer before looking away again. I rested my elbow on the desk and my face leaned into my hand.

"Babe?"

I let out a tiny sob, my hands and shoulders beginning to shake. I shook my head, lifting it up to look at him once more. "Please don't call me that." Taylor's face grew concerned, and I knew I had to just get it over with. "Taylor... I..."

"Vee." His voice was strained and quiet and I knew it wasn't because of lack of connection between our locations.

"This isn't working," I whispered. I closed my eyes, and another tear slipped out. I waited for him to say something, anything, but all I heard was my own breathing.

"What's going on?"

I bit my lip and opened my eyes. "It's just not working."

"That's not good enough. If you're breaking up with me, I deserve to know why."

His tone was harsh, and I winced. I looked down at my hands before saying, "You... You're busy, I get that, but you don't even text me anymore... And I mean, texting takes two seconds, but you... You don't even have that."

"...I'm sorry." Taylor said quietly, and I looked up to see him with his hand over his face. I shrugged, feeling my heart break. "Vee..." He looked up, and I felt like I had been punched in the gut. "I love you."

"I know," I whispered as silent tears rolled down my cheeks.

"And I've never felt this way about anyone." Another kick to the stomach. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I really wish there was," I whispered. "But it hurts too much, being forgotten."