Something to Remember

SARAH:

“Sarah…” John’s voice came out no louder than a whisper, yet it still sent butterflies fluttering through my stomach. I recognized his old leather jacket and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his worn jeans. The sight of him alone was enough to get my heart racing and I knew I still wasn’t over him. That seriously pissed me off.

“It’s been a year and a half, John. Long time no see,” I said in a stony voice while trying to keep my face emotionless. I was not going to give him anything here; I wanted to see how he would react without knowing how I was feeling.

We hadn’t broken eye contact since I approached him and I was being reminded full force how expressive his hazel eyes were. I had stepped closer in front of him than I had meant to and at this short distance, I could easily see the scar on his left eyebrow, even in the dark.

“John, uh, I think Matt and I will go see if the others need any help. You good here?” John and I both looked at Jared, although it was more difficult for me to because I had to lean around John’s shoulder. Truthfully, I had forgotten that he and Matt had been standing next to John this whole time.

When Jared’s words sunk in though, I let out a bark of disbelief. The guys’ heads all whipped to look at me.

“Good here? It hasn’t been ‘good here’ for a long time, Jared. You of all people should know that.” I addressed him bitterly, but had already returned my attention to John when I emphasized the word “long”.

“Yeah we’re fine Jared. Just go,” John said quietly. He was staring me down too and I had the feeling whoever looked away first would be the loser.

As Matt and Jared’s footsteps faded away down the alley, John finally spoke.

“Why are you here, Sarah?” His voice was hard, but matched with the intensity of his eyes, it made my knees turn to jelly. Suddenly I was questioning my decision to confront him. How was it possible that after all this time I was still as raw as the day he left me?

His question hurt though. After detachedly walking out of my life, this was the best he could come up with? Yet on the flipside, he somehow managed to write a song about us that was so filled of emotion, I had felt every stinging pain our separation caused all over again. He was pretending to not care, he had to have been.

Well, I was ending my own façade now. I was tired of acting like I was ok, because I wasn’t. He deserved to know that.

As John watched my face, I saw his expression change. I think he noticed my shift from purely angry to totally crushed and livid. He looked scared of what was coming.

I could feel my eyes beginning to water as I got ready to speak and my vision started to blur. I knew I was inevitably going to break down, but I just needed to say what I wanted first.

“Why am I here? Well, I let me think. Maybe it’s because a year and a half ago, you decided to show up at my front door, tell me you ‘love me but we’re over’ and then walk away! You fucking walked away from everything we had and never looked back, John! That’s why I’m here right now. Because there’s a goddamn hole in my chest where you ripped out a part of me! Is that good enough for you, John? Will what I say or do ever be good enough for you?” My chest was heaving when I finished and the moment I stopped speaking, a quiet sob made me cover my mouth. Tears were trickling down my face.

I tried to wipe my face with my sleeve while I waited for a response, but the tears kept coming. My hands were shaking.

John had his eyes closed, but I noticed that he was clenching his fists by his sides so hard that his knuckles were white. Slowly, I saw him let out a breath and he opened his eyes.

As he took in my wet face, I noticed a single tear drop from his right eye. Soon enough, another one fell, and then another from his left.

I had made John O’Callaghan cry.

John tried to put his hand on my cheek to catch some of my tears, but I brushed it away. I wasn’t about to let him comfort me out of guilt, only to have him walk away tomorrow and leave me twice as crushed. He looked hurt at my rejection, but I didn’t care. He was the one who made me like this. Why should I give him any right to touch me?

So here we were. I was standing in an alley with a guy I should have been completely over by now and we were both staring at each other, crying. It was completely pathetic.