Be Alone With Me

I can’t believe Matty broke up with me on fucking Christmas Eve.

I mean, we hadn’t been together for that long, but still, Christmas Eve? I really liked him. I was looking forward to having him sleep over at my apartment. I was looking forward to spending time with him. I even have a couple of little gifts underneath my miniature Christmas tree, and they’re all for him—I live alone, so I don’t have anyone else to put gifts under the tree for. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

I pace back and forth around the apartment, focusing on breathing in and out so I don’t break down. I’m not sure if this “breaking down” would involve crying or punching something (or both), but I don’t like crying, and punching something would probably be a bad idea. So I breathe, in and out, in and out.

Eventually, I sit back down on the couch in the living room and glance over at my phone, which is lying on the floor. (I may or may not have thrown it across the room after Matty’s breakup call.) I kind of want to ask someone to come over so I don’t feel so shitty, but all my friends are busy with their own families, and I’m just…here.

Wait a minute. How could I forget? I know one person spending this Christmas Eve alone. His name is Vic, and he’s another one of my exes.

Matty and I dated for about a month, but Vic and I dated for much longer—almost a year. We only broke up after a huge argument, but I still haven’t gotten over it. I miss him. In fact, that’s one of the only reasons Matty and I started dating in the first place: I wanted a distraction. I wanted a guy who could take Vic’s place and make me forget about him.

I pick my phone up and stare at it for a few seconds, contemplating. I’m still friends with Vic’s brother, Mike, and that’s how I know that Vic is alone tonight. But do I really want to call him after over a month of us not speaking to each other? For all I know, he could really hate me. He could never want to see me again. I wouldn’t blame him.

I sigh. It’s the perfect opportunity to be with him, and God knows that’s what I really want for Christmas. I want him back, even more than I want Matty back. Matty is rapidly fading away, along with my initial anger at being abandoned on a night like this. Now there’s only one name on my mind: Vic.

I find him in my messages—I really should’ve deleted his number by now, but I couldn’t bring myself to—and send him a text before I can change my mind: Want to come over to my place?

I almost laugh at myself because of how casual it is.

A few seconds later, he replies: Why?

I didn’t even expect him to answer me, but here it is. I can’t go back now.

I’m alone. You’re alone. It’s Christmas Eve.

His response is surprisingly quick: Thought you had a new boyfriend.

I snort. Mike probably told him about that.

Not anymore. He bailed on me.

So I’m your second choice then?

You know I don’t like being alone.

After that, there’s no answer. I sigh and rest the phone on the coffee table, glancing at the screen every once in a while in case there’s a new text. There isn’t.

About fifteen minutes later, I’m absentmindedly flipping through TV channels when I hear a knock at my door. I mute the TV and head over, still sort of spaced out. The person who greets me as he’s standing in the hallway definitely snaps me out of it, though.

"Long time no see, Kells."

I just stare at him for a few moments, unwilling to believe that he’s actually here. “Vic?”

Vic flashes me a tiny smile that seems to be laced with memories, both happy and not-so-happy. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re the one who asked me to come over. Maybe I don’t really like being alone, either.”

The only thing that stops me from kissing him is the fact that we’re not dating anymore.

"Um…yeah, okay, uh, come on in." I step back and motion for him to come inside, and he does, closing the door behind him. I can’t help but notice that he’s wearing a slightly oversized crew neck sweater and a Christmas-themed knitted beanie—it all looks so fucking good on him. He wears things like that all the time in the winter. I remember when we first started dating, and I’d always look at him wearing a cozy sweater like that and think about how badly I wanted to wrap myself up in his arms and just lie with him.

I remember what it felt like the first time I got that wish.

I want it back.

"Are those for him, then?" Vic asks, once again snapping me out of my trance. He’s pointing at the gifts underneath my mini tree. "That other guy?"

"Yeah. They were, at least. I don’t want to talk about him, though."

"What do you want to talk about, then?"

There’s so much tension around us. It’s as if all our memories are floating in the air, making it harder to breathe.

We stare at each other for way too long. I don’t know what my face looks like, but Vic’s is completely unreadable. Finally, I sit down on the couch and simply say, “I don’t know.”

Maybe it would’ve been better to just be alone.

Vic sits down next to me. I un-mute the TV, and for a few minutes, we just sit together in silence, watching the Christmas special that I’ve turned to. I don’t think either of us are really watching it, though. I know I’m not. I’m thinking about him.

Vic grabs the remote and turns the TV off. I turn to him, about to ask why, when he says, “I didn’t mean a single word I said, Kellin.”

His expression is serious and lonely and sad and desperate, and I don’t have to ask what he’s talking about; I already know. He’s talking about the argument that ended us.

"You didn’t?" I say, genuinely surprised. Both of us said some pretty nasty things, but I regretted it all afterward. I didn’t think he did, though. "But I thought…I thought you hated me."

"I’d never hate you." Now his voice is sad, too—I’ve known him long enough to be able to tell. "I wanted you back so fucking badly. But I knew you hated me, and I should just shut up now because you probably still hate me, and I know I deserve it for everything I said, but I just want you to know that I don’t hate you. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I made you think I hated you."

At first, I don’t know how to respond to his sudden admission. Then, when I find my voice again, I manage to say, “I don’t hate you, either.”

It takes a few moments to sink in, but once it does, I can see the shock written all over his face. “You don’t?”

"Vic, I’ve missed you so much." My voice is getting shaky—fuck. I’ve always hated crying in front of him. "I regret everything I said that night. I’ve been trying so fucking hard to forget about you because I knew you’d never take me back. Why do you think I started dating Matty? I was trying to forget how much I fucking missed you, damn it.”

For what feels like decades, we both just stare at each other through watery eyes. Then Vic says, “I missed you more than you’ll ever know,” and before I can react, he’s kissing me.

Our lips are fast, our hands roaming everywhere, as if we’re starving for each other. One minute he’s touching my face; the next, he’s tangling his fingers in my hair; the next, he’s touching me underneath my shirt, pulling me as close to him as possible. This is what I’ve been missing, and Matty could never compare.

When we finally pull away, we’re breathless and crying a little, which amazes me—Vic never cries.

"Can we please put that horrible argument behind us?" I ask. "I want to start over. With you. Not anyone else. You."

He smiles at me. “Absolutely.”

Then we’re kissing again, laughing through our tears because we’re both so fucking happy. “I love you,” Vic says, looking me right in the eyes. “Do you know that? I never stopped. I love you.”

I hug him tightly, both of us shifting our positions so that I’m resting on his lap, my head against his chest. “I love you, too,” I whisper, and I mean it. It doesn’t matter that Matty’s gone. I’ve got the one I really want.