A fictional memoir

**Content has descriptions or opinions of characters that might offend the LGBT community**

All she ever wanted was a side-splitting, life-changing, end-of-the-world type of love. The kind of love you’d see in romantic comedies and Disney fairytales. The kind of love that makes you feel like you could never love anyone ever again. The kind of love that would make people gag at the sight but internally long for. Yet, she never thought love could feel this way — lonely, deafening, and impossible to keep. Sitting alone on her bathroom floor wrapped in a thick green towel, she realized her world was ending, just not how she’d hoped.

“I’m sorry you had to find out that way. We’ve had sexual tension for the past four years,” Reagan read from her bright turquoise slide phone — her fourth phone of the month. It was a text from Lana. For the past four years? Reagan thought, tightly clenching her phone, fighting the urge to throw it at the wall. Her face felt like she had been dehydrated for weeks as she slowly ceased to see through the built-up tears in the corners of her eyes; her chest was like a ticking time bomb, waiting to split open the flesh covering her cracking heart as her deep breaths tried to sedate it to no avail. This was not happening; her nightmare wasn’t coming to life. That’s when we were dating. Reagan desperately grappled her composer as if in front of the witch herself.

“This is the first I’ve heard of this,” Reagan replied.

“Oh. I thought you knew,” Lana texted, “We’ve liked each other for years.”

A forceful sigh exited Reagan’s nostrils, adding to the gaping eye roll she unknowingly gave. She knew they liked each other — everyone did. It was as evident as Reagan’s ongoing deteriorating mental state.

“No. I didn’t,” Reagan paused momentarily, contemplating whether to mention “it,” then continued, “The only thing I knew was that he was going to prom with you, even though he promised to go with me. I should’ve known.”

“I’m sorry,” Reagan read Lana’s words aloud, slowly lowering her phone to her raised knees. Her head fell back against the wall, and her lower jaw filled with enough tension to break a tooth. You’re sorry? Really? This thought was interrupted by another message from Lana: “He told me he promised that freshmen year.”

Reagan’s filter dropped, ignoring Lana’s evident disregard for the bond of a promise, “I thought you were a lesbian.”

“I thought I was, but I guess I was wrong,” replied Lana. Reagan felt this was an insecurity for Lana but was in no mood for remorse, focusing on every word and how it was typed until Lana added, “I didn’t know I liked guys until I met him.”

~*~

Elijah was the boy who stole many hearts, especially Reagan’s. From the moment the average-looking, pastel-hating, Converse-loving emo looked into the big brown eyes of the adorably scrawny hoodie-wearing gamer boy in the middle of the lunch line, she knew he was the one. Whether it was his gorgeously wide smile or anime-esque eyes that attracted her, she didn’t know, but she felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have met such a uniquely unmatched guy.

They dated after several months of texting back and forth when Reagan had told him she loved him. They had their first kiss shortly after, soon becoming the cutest freshmen couple in their graduating class — at least in Reagan’s eyes. She could easily carry him in her arms and was even taller than him. However, the following year seemed different. His popularity soon skyrocketed as he grew taller and removed the braces covering his perfectly white teeth. He seemed to always have girls around him, which made sense to Reagan as she thought no one truly knew what she saw in him till then. They admired his long brown hair and goofy personality, being able to make anyone laugh with his impressions and one-liners. Even his laughter was contagious. He had told her many wonderful things during their first year together, making broken confessions while using empty words he would no longer remember, such as the time he gave tribute to Reagan with the song “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars just to forget he ever made this sentiment months later.

After a year of continual dating, Elijah ended things with Reagan after confessing to her that he was still in love with his ex. Months later, they broke up, and he and Reagan got back together, carrying the pattern for several years. However, all the girls seemed to pass by as quickly as their relationships started. Reagan knew she would never leave his heart — until Lana entered their lives.

~*~

The time bomb in Reagan’s chest was nearly zero. She had never liked Lana. That’s not to say that she didn’t try, but it was virtually impossible to get along with the reason her boyfriend slipped away from her. The way she would dizzily go about her day in a knowingly airheaded bliss, practically showing off her lesbian status as girls lined up for their chance to touch lips with her. Her fakely optimistic persona and bubbly, bouncy walk made boys stop at the sight of her blossoming bust from her compact tank top and protruding bottom in skin-tight leggings, which would send most girls to in-school suspension.

However, this animosity only grew when Reagan would find Elijah and Lana flirting nonstop while she and Elijah were dating. Other times, Lana and Elijah were found chatting outside of first period, leaving his poor girlfriend, Reagan, inside the classroom to draw alone. Even at football games, halftime didn’t matter to Reagan, as Lana would take Elijah’s time away from her anyway. After he and Lana started dating, Reagan often gave Lana death glares whenever she saw them hug, which was the only thing she could do to intimidate without getting too involved. Though, as it was, she desperately wanted to end their relationship for good. It all made sense now, she thought.

Reagan never anticipated this conversation when she came home from a fun night at a JROTC ball a guy friend had invited her to. Little did she know Lana would be there, too, looking just as awkward and timid as when Reagan would stare daggers at her every morning. Lana’s fear gave Reagan a boost as she promised herself she would make the most of the night, ignoring Lana and scream-singing break-up songs on the dance floor like her life depended on it. She fully intended to forget about him that night. Her main focus was to spend time with her friends and move on, hoping to relay her apathy and hatred to Lana in the process. But there was still something that she needed to know.

“Did you text me just to tell me that you two fucked?” asked Reagan. “Because I don’t care. You guys have never cared about how I felt anyway.” She couldn’t stop herself. It was a matter of time before she would tell Lana everything, but her history of sabotage and desperate aspiration to change had halted this desire. It wasn’t her problem anymore anyway. Still, she wanted Elijah in her life, even if that meant knowing he loved someone else.

“It was while you two were dating,” Lana said, “We didn’t mean to. He came over one day, we kissed, then one thing led to another, and —” Reagan dropped her phone, unable to read the rest of the text. She wrapped her arms around her knees as she began to bawl silently so as not to make her mother suspicious. Then, another message popped up: “He said he would tell you. I’m sorry.”

He never told me a thing. Why would he not tell me? Why is SHE the one telling me? Anytime Elijah cheated on Reagan, he would always tell her, she’d always forgive him, and then they’d always be okay in the end. Yet, that didn’t happen this time. Reagan was caught in the dark, and she was afraid of the dark.

Picking up her phone off the wet floor, Reagan knew she couldn’t continue the pleasantries any longer, “Why are you telling me this? I knew you never liked me. In fact, you hate me just as much as I hate you.”

“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. I thought we could’ve been friends.”

Reagan’s eyes rolled so far back in her head that it gave her a headache, “Bullshit.”

“It’s true. I’ve tried so hard to be your friend, but it’s only made you dislike me more. Though, I don’t think it matters what I do. You’ll still hate me either way, lol.”

Reagan didn’t know whether to defend her love for Elijah or bash Lana’s ideas on friendship. However, focusing on the condescending lol, she had another topic in mind, “Do you know why I hate you? Because you’re so fake. You never show your true feelings, only curated ones. You walk around and show off to all the guys, even though you’re supposed to be gay. You act like you’re okay with everyone when I know that I piss you off. Yet, you’re too scared to admit it. But why?” Reagan’s thumbs grew numb as her thoughts spewed out of them, unable to stop herself from the destruction that only seemed to get worse, “I don’t even know what Elijah sees in you.” Any filter she had used to restrain her words had left her conscience long ago.

Unmoving from her stance, Reagan eyed her tiny screen, not giving Lana any room to debate. A hint of regret swept through her mind as she imagined the insults swinging back at her. What could she possibly say to that anyway? Maybe now, she’ll show her true colors, and I can tell Elijah that she’s not the sweet person everyone thinks she is.

After minutes of an argument in Reagan’s mind, Lana’s text appeared, covering the whole screen: “Do you know what I hate about you? All I’ve ever done is try to be nice to you. I defend you when people call you crazy and obsessed, even when they’ve called you a homewrecker in the past when you weren’t. But now, you bark at me because of something Elijah did. I was doing the right thing by telling you. You criticize me when you’re the one that needs to look in the mirror.”

Though it was what she wanted, Reagan was unprepared for Lana’s raw opinions. She didn’t know how to feel or what to comment on. I know I’m crazy. That’s why I hate myself, her thoughts circled.She imagined various scenarios of this conversation and where it could go if she commented on this notion. However, despite her shock and self-loathing, Lana’s response only gave Reagan ammunition for her ultimate weapon. She repeatedly reread Lana’s complaint, always landing on a particular phrase. “Doing the right thing,” huh? You act all high and mighty like you had no part in it, she thought; scenarios of cussing out Lana to her face encapsulated Reagan’s frontal lobe between her seething breaths. In her head, she was winning, but she wanted to live the fantasy. At that moment, she felt like a maniac strapped to the wall as she loured at her phone menacingly, creating small repairable cracks on its shell with her grip.

This wasn’t about Elijah anymore; her only plan was to hurt Lana. Almost simultaneously, the time bomb in her chest landed at zero, her heart palpitations making it feel like a heart attack was ensuing. She remained still as she gripped the flesh over her heart and breathed to slow the beating. No matter how hard she tried, it didn’t work. Instead of tears, steam came from her heated cheeks. Instead of resisting, every urge she held back came to fruition. The vibrations from her imploding chest seemed to control not only her vision but her fingers, too. Let’s see how you like it.

“He’s been cheating on you, you know,” Reagan confessed, not stopping to think or breathe, “Ever since you two started dating, we’d make out after class. We even planned to make love after school. I guess he doesn’t like you as much as you thought,” As Reagan sent each sentence, she checked for replies – nothing for a few minutes. You can dish it but can’t take it, huh? “I’m only telling you because it’s the right thing to do.” She was sure this would encourage her, but more minutes passed without reply. Did I go too far? As she intently watched her phone as if it were a spider waiting to pounce on her, her nails gripped her arm to the point of causing bruises. She wanted to elbow the wall, grab a hammer and smash her phone, or even scream as loud as she could. Anything to stop the unwinding thoughts and emotions that only intensified with each thought and emotion. A never-ending cycle that she can’t help but tangle herself in. She set down her phone and started to cry. Why did I do that? Why didn’t I just stop when I had the chance? God, what do I do?

After staring blankly at the wall for five minutes, Reagan looked at her phone again, realizing Lana’s reply would never pop up. Her shoulders lowered; her face showed no expression. No tears, just emptiness. She felt numb, yet her mind wouldn’t shut off, continuing its downward spiral as she decided to check Facebook on her phone. She had to know what Elijah was doing right now. It comforted her to know his page was unchanged or unaltered. After typing his name, she pressed the arrow buttons to direct the mouse to his profile. As long as they were dating, Elijah refused to put him and Reagan as his profile picture, but there it was: a behind picture of Elijah and Lana walking side by side – when he was dating Reagan. The sight only gave her the reason she needed to throw her phone at the wall, creating a shallow dent beside the mirror. Miraculously, the thud woke no one. It was as if they were used to Reagan’s antics by that point. Quiet echoed throughout the house in the aftermath. Unsatisfied but exhausted, Reagan got up, retrieved her faintly cracked phone, and entered her room a few feet away, all while wishing she wouldn’t wake up the next day. She didn’t receive any other texts for the rest of the night.

~*~

The following day, Reagan awoke to a text from Elijah.

“Are you happy now? She broke up with me!” Reagan read. Her heart skipped a beat as she began to regret her choices the night before.

Her phone sat beside her head momentarily as she thought about what to say, wide-eyed and petrified. Oh God, I should apologize. But wait, he hurt ME! “She told me you cheated on me when we were together,” she replied, tears filling her eyes as she desperately typed to clarify, not wanting a repeat of the night before, “I never intended this. I’m sorry… I love you…” I really need to stop…

“So, you had to tell her that? I loved her, Reagan! But you never cared about my happiness!”

“Yes, I do! I couldn’t help it! I’m sorry… Maybe I can fix this!”

“No! You’ve done enough! Just leave me alone, Reagan! I never want to speak to you ever again! You ruined my life!”

“I’m sorry, Eli! Please forgive me!”

Elijah’s anger was unheard of to Reagan. She’d seen him sad but rarely angry, let alone angry at her. The last time he was, Reagan punched him in the stomach on the way out of the classroom because she saw him flirting with another girl. He then ripped a page out of her diary, putting her into instant tears. It seemed so long ago to Reagan, yet it’s a memory she tries sincerely to forget.

After multiple texts and phone calls, Elijah never replied to her. What does this mean? He can’t NOT talk to me on Monday. We’re best friends! What if she told him more than just the cheating? Her mind had spiraled into a pit of suicidal thoughts and anxiety-inducing pleas to God, begging to end the torture induced by her own doing. She locked her door, wrapped herself in blankets, and cried to her “Professional Depressive” playlist on her iPod nano. Music videos about falling off buildings played in her head as she wept to every word that resonated with her; her stringy black hair stuck to her face from the tears.

~*~

When Monday came around, Reagan had to force herself out of bed after rolling over to check her phone notifications, only to find that Elijah had not replied. She could stay home and hear her mom’s lecture about why she never bothered to attend school, or she could get on the bus and face the music with him.

Little did she know this wouldn’t be a problem. As she waited for the first period to start, she tried to make herself scarce, hunching over at her desk to draw in her notebook. Now and then, she would look over at the front door, watching as Elijah, wearing a light brown hoodie, desperately tried to talk to Lana, the perfect-figured redhead wearing a tank top and leggings. They broke up, and yet Lana still came here to greet him. What I said must’ve not messed things up too much. Then, why isn’t he talking to me? Lana glanced over at Reagan, Elijah following her gaze, making Reagan snap her head back to look at her notebook. Don’t look at me… I’m sorry… Relieved at the sound of the bell through the intercom, she let out a sigh, her heart rate decreasing but the pain still there. Luckily, Elijah sat a few rows behind her so she wouldn’t have to look at his luscious locks for the whole hour.

Reagan tried to text Elijah with apologies and a not-so-subtle request to stay friends throughout the period, but there was still no reply. After class, it was like Elijah was a race car; by the time Reagan quickly packed up her things, he was gone. She lost hope of ever talking to him again, but there was still lunch.

All her classes were endlessly the same as the first. Her friends would try talking to her to the best of their ability; she would give vague replies, checking her phone every five minutes. When lunch hit, she briskly walked to the lunchroom and through the lines, looking around for Elijah’s table — where he wasn’t. Reagan immediately knew where he was, peeking over at the table Lana usually sits at to find a laughing Elijah across from her. Reagan stared daggers at the back of Lana’s head, then exhaled a giant shoulder-lifting breath. She decided to cut her losses, waltzing over to one of her friends, handing them the tray of food, and zombishly proceeding to the bathroom to cry until the bell rang.

~*~

It wasn’t until the end of the day that she would find a moment to talk with him. It wasn’t what she had hoped for, but it was something. After the last period, when everyone crowded the halls on their way to the buses, Reagan noticed a familiar long-haired boy wearing a light brown hoodie. Elijah! This is my chance! Reagan inched her way through the mess of classmates, trying not to use too much force to get around them, scared of what they might do or say. Now behind him, her arm stretched out to touch his shoulder, but there was hesitation. She didn’t think about what to say or how he would respond. Instead, she followed behind him for minutes until someone accidentally bumped her into him, willing him to turn his head to see who it was.

“I’m sorry,” Elijah and Reagan let out, making him stop as soon as he saw her.

“Hi, Eli,” Reagan shyly greeted, slightly smiling and drooping her head as if wounded in battle.

“Hey,” Elijah said stoically. It was like he was looking through her, which only made Reagan sweat and stammer. She stood there waiting, hoping whatever he would say would help her express her thoughts to him, but this only gave him a chance to continue where he had left off, “Haven’t you done enough?”

“What do you —”

“You’ve been harassing me all day, trying to tear me and Lana apart,” Elijah seemed to roar the words, making Reagan flinch where she stood.

“But I’m not —” Reagan stopped, looking into his eyes with half-confidence and half-panic. “Are you guys back together?”

 Still standing tall, Elijah deflected his gaze away from her, “I’ve been trying, but she won’t forgive me.”

“I’m sorry,” Reagan mirrored his affliction. She always had a habit of taking his pain as her own.

“She said we can stay friends but can’t date while I’m not over you yet.”

Elijah’s words, though nonchalant, made Reagan’s heart skip a beat. I knew it! Is there still a chance? She couldn’t help but grin like she had just been proposed to, “You still love me?”

His eyes quickly shifted back to Reagan, his face turning from uncaring to pity. He sighed and relaxed his posture before speaking, “Reagan, I do still love you.” He watched as her beaming smile depleted. She quickly understood the meaning behind his expression.

“But you can’t be with me.”

Elijah remained silent, giving a gentle head nod.

“But why?” Reagan slipped out, almost sounding like a whine. Her eyes peered away from him as he continued to look at her with that wilting look of his.

Elijah didn’t seem to have an answer or at least one that would satisfy her.

Regardless, Reagan knew why. “Because you love her.”

“I really do,” Elijah responded in such a matter-of-fact way that Reagan couldn’t help but swallow a sorrowful lump down her dry throat. “I’ve never felt a love like this before.”

With a regretful nod, Reagan couldn’t utter anything but “I see.” She always thought Elijah’s love for someone else wouldn’t bother her as long as he remained in her life, but hearing him say those words broke her.

“I’m sorry.”

All Reagan wanted to do at that moment was burst into tears. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and knew he would return to her soon. She wanted to hug him and kiss him and never let him go. Yet, at that devastating, crucial moment, she said, “I hope she loves you as much as I loved you,” walking past him — a headache infusing in her temples as she held back her tears on her way to the bus.

Reagan wanted to accept their ending and let it grow into a new beginning, but she couldn’t shake his confession. If only you felt that way about me, like how I feel about you. Her wretched longing for change started looking like a silly little dream as she rested her head on the bus window, dreading another sleepless night before a meaningless morning. What does she have that I don’t have anyway? A perfect figure and sunlit hair? Then, an idea emerged amid the doubt and anguish. An idea that could win his heart back. He didn’t have to love her; he only needed to want to be around her instead of Lana.

~*~

When Reagan woke up the following day, something snapped in her mind. She arose early, put on the makeup she had hidden away under her bathroom sink, and straightened her newly dyed bright ginger hair like a flower girl from the ‘60s. She was sure this was the only way Elijah would notice her as she leaned in front of the mirror and admired how much the lavender spaghetti strap tank had pushed her bosoms forward just the right amount. She turned to examine the black yoga pants that hugged her backside, considering whether it would be worth the comments and ridicule from her classmates. Elijah then popped into her thoughts. He would surely change his mind after seeing me. He won’t be able to look away. With a giddy squeal, she could hardly wait till he held her in his arms once again. She won’t be much competition now. Adding an oversized jacket to hide her revealing outfit, she opened the front door and eagerly pranced to the bus stop up the hill in a bouncy, bubbly way.

~*~

Arriving at school, Reagan remained covered until she entered her first-period classroom, where she met with Elijah and — a familiar-looking girl. Reagan had initially hoped to spark envy and interest from him, accentuating her chest, yet murmurs and whispers could be heard around the room as she stood inches from her ex-carbon copy. Thinking it was because of her, she ignored them at first. Yet, her thoughts turned to the girl standing beside Elijah. Reagan was sure the girl was Lana, but she no longer looked like a ginger-headed bimbo. Instead, she was an ordinary-looking emo girl with short black hair, loose black jeans, a printed long-sleeve deep purple shirt, and Converse.

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