Too Much of Anything

Meeting Jack for the first time, I'll admit was a coincidence. I hadn't been in Baltimore for a while, I've been across America, to a few different states and now I was back home. I didn't really have a plan of what I was going to do here, but that's how my life had turned out, never knowing where the next day will lead me. I should have figured that there was a slight possibility that Jack and the others may still be here but I hadn't thought about it too much. My reaction to seeing him nearly gave me away. There was no way I could let him know who I was.

I saw him through the window of the shop before I entered and I really don't know why I decided to disguise myself. Or maybe I do, because, truthfully I wasn't ready to talk to him or even see him yet. And I guessed that if he did recognize me the reception that he and Zack and Rian would give me would make me want to run back out.

I convinced myself before entering that everything would be fine, I wanted to look at the guitars anyway, even if I couldn't buy any of them yet. So I went in, trying to act indifferent and unaware that my ex boyfriend and my ex friends were working there. I should have realised though that there was a possibility that one of them would come up to me, I was a customer after all.

It was Jack who did it, and I hadn't really laid eyes on him properly until then. How long has it been since I last saw him? Five years? It felt longer than that, much longer. He had changed a lot, of course. He'd grown up amazingly and just looking at him made me wish I could go back in time and fix it.

It's too late now though, so many times I've thought over what life would be like if I hadn't messed up our relationship. Maybe we'd still be together now, maybe I'd be working in this shop too with all of them instead of what I'm doing now.

What am I even doing, anyway? I wasn't doing much at all, actually. I decided to go on a road trip, playing a few one man gigs here and there. I had a guitar for most of it, but at some point I got myself into a fight and it got broken. Since then, nothing much has happened to make my life the slightest bit eventful.

But anyway, laying eyes on him made me acknowledge I shouldn't have been there at all, no matter how much I wanted to see him. I had to go away, there was no way I could ever come back now. I was stupid to think that it would have even been a good idea. Although, I hadn't completely gotten away with it. I'm sure before I left the shop, Jack had recognized me. And that's dangerous in itself and another reason why I had to leave, leave town and never come back.

I was going to do it, I was going to get out as soon as possible before my stupid thoughts took over any sensibility and I ended up going back to Jack.

It lasted for a while, of course. But I kept on wondering whether Jack would listen. He didn't know much at all, nothing really. Nothing about how much I missed him, how much I was sorry for messing up and how he had no idea what the real story was behind all those stupid incidents.

It began as me writing a letter just to get it off my chest, I hadn't addressed Jack in it but it was supposed to be to him. He never would see it, but it made me feel calmer about things. When I had finished writing it, my intentions were to throw it away, burn it. But I never did, I took it with me everywhere I went as if one day I could have the chance to give it to him.

And then, not that long after that, I got my big break. Well, sort of anyway. I'd borrowed a guitar off of an acquaintance and was playing a small show, surprisingly, I had been noticed. Heck, I was so excited. Maybe this would be it and I could actually start my life over again.

So it was good, great, brilliant. Everything I ever wanted was falling into place. Of course, except from that missing piece.

And that's why I decided to give the letter to Jack, at first I was going to mail it, but I wanted to give it to him myself. After I did, I'd get out of his hair for good. So that's how I ended up back at the shop, shocked and somehow relieved that Jack was letting me talk to him and I felt ecstatic because I got to properly talk to him again. I'd missed it, I really had.

He'd taken me round back away from Rian and Zack's prying ears and was looking at me now, waiting for me to speak. I felt the letter in my trouser pocket and its presence made me suddenly feel nervous and heck, I don't usually get nervous about these things. Right now, however, I felt like I was on edge.

"So?" Jack urged me on, folding his arms. "What exactly have you got to talk to me about, Alex? Didn't I tell you that I never wanted to see you again?"

When Jack mentioned that again my mind immediately went back to that awful night. I scrunched my eyes shut, trying to get it out of my head for two seconds so I could just think.

"I know you said that, I can never forget it," I admitted, meeting Jack's eyes.

He raised his eyebrows at me, teetering from one foot to the other. "I just want to know something. Did you hate me? Did you hate me from the beginning, even before we dated? Because if you didn't, do enlighten me with the reasons behind why you decided that it would be okay to break me."

What had started off confidently had begun to change into despair, Jack, who had been snarling at me beforehand, now had taken away any kind of wall and he looked absolutely torn apart. Of course I hated myself for what I had done, never him, I could never hate him. The fact that he had thought that I hated him was so outstandingly ridiculous that I was gaping at him, my jaw slacked and my eyes wide. I probably looked stupid, but I really couldn't think properly at all.

I shook my head, stepping closer to Jack. I wanted so much to reach out to him and try to comfort him in the only way I could. But I knew doing that would be crossing a line that should not be crossed. So my arms were restricted to my sides and all I could do was feel like I, too, was breaking apart.

"This was never my intention. It was only supposed to be a simple bet," I began, "I never wanted to break your heart, Jack."

I guess it's just too late now for second chances.

He was trying to figure me out, I could tell from the way his eyes were scanning over me. Of course, he didn't believe me. I mean, I wouldn't believe me if I were him either. If I were Jack, I wouldn't even give myself a chance, I'd tell myself to bugger the fuck off because I always ruin everything.

I wondered how long this silence between us would go on, whether we'd spend it just staring at each other, a tension so deadly in the air.

Jack finally spoke and it was everything that I expected it would be. "I don't even know what is real or what is not with you any more. I can't even tell whether you're lying to me again for some sort of sick pleasure or if you're telling the truth," he bit his lip, "But it would be stupid of me to let you back in, Alex. And I'm not going to do that."

My right hand was dug in my pocket now, clutching onto that letter. What Jack had just said made me feel like there really was no hope left and there was no point in me trying. I was becoming extremely negative with all of this and who knows what Jack's reaction would be if he read it. It would be better to know that he understood what happened properly than to never know at all.

I knew though that no matter what I couldn't come back here. I was a bad influence for Jack, a bad person who should just stay out of his life permanently. That's why I did that awful thing those five years ago and of course I regret it, I regret it so damn much. But Jack is better off without me, I can see it, he's happier.

Any sort of courage that I could have had left finally pushed me to doing it, I took the letter out of my pocket slowly, and held it out to him. He looked at me questioningly.

"I want you to read this," I instructed him, "That's all I want from you now. After this, I'm going to leave and never come back here because I owe you that much." A sad smile inflicted itself upon my face and Jack, well, he looked really confused.

He reached out for it with precaution, in a way like if he got too close to it, it would burn him. He took it, my hand falling back to my sides as he looked at the envelope.

I didn't want to wait around for him to open it, I didn't want to see that expression on his face when he read it. I wanted to leave. I had to go now.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye now, isn't it?" I shrugged, "I hope you have a wonderful life, Jack."

-

I'm not going to start this off with Dear or anything, because then I'll feel like I'm still a child. And heck, I'm not any more. I may kid myself and think that I am, but I'm not. None of us are any more. At first, I decided I would never come back to you, it was hard to do so, terribly hard. You don't know many times I've spent looking at your phone number on my mobile, writing texts, deleting them, my thumb hovering over the dial button. But yeah, I never had the guts. I thought it would be best to delete your number from my phone, but I never had the guts to do that either.

I wonder, do you ever think of me? Do you ever look back and wonder: where did it all go wrong? I do, a lot, and my answer to this question is always that it was me. Of course it was me. No one ever suspected that Alex Gaskarth could ever commit to a relationship, and yeah, they were right. But they had gotten one thing wrong, they believed I'd never fall in love.

Do you know how bitter and ironic it is? That right underneath my nose was the one? You, Jack, all this time you were the person who could help me get my feet back on the ground. You were my anchor and without you, I'd surely drown. No, I am drowning. Right now. I am drowning in these tears that won't even leave me my eyes because I am that lost inside. I had something, something so precious and so wonderful and I threw it away.

But I did it all for you Jack.

Yes, I made out with that girl. But I was so angry with you and with what this bartender said about us that I wasn't thinking properly. My mind was in the gutter and when that happens it's hard for me to even think properly at all. I regretted it as soon as I realized what I had done. I felt horrible and I was scared. I was scared that if I told you, if you found out some how then you'd never want to talk to me again, and I didn't want that. So I kept it a secret, I thought it would be best if I did. Of course, I made a mistake. You found out.

I made out with Zack too, and for that I feel even worse. Zack was our friend and I went and did that. I just needed someone, you weren't there for me so who else could I turn to? My mind was playing tricks on me that night and I thought that it was you, not Zack, but you.

And then it all goes horribly wrong and I find myself hated by Zack, hated by you and back to where I started. As a Casanova. You know, I really do hate that word now.

I'd figured out that nothing was going to go back to the way it was now. It was too late, I had already made my bed and the best I could do was sleep in it. So I thought that you didn't need me, that there was no point in me being in your life so I should make the wall between us permanent, completely unbreakable. So I did. And I broke you. I wasn't sober when I had made this decision, but now that I think about it, you are much happier now, aren't you? I can tell, and even me being here is taking that happiness away from you.

But I want you to know that I never meant any of the things I said. I didn't win the bet, Jack. You did. I was and still am the one crazily in love with you.

I'm not asking for forgiveness because I know I don't deserve it.

Anyway, I don't expect you to forgive me, Jack. If I were you I'd hate me too.