Holding On (2 page)

I
can
feel
my
heart
beginning
to
crack,
knowing
that
this
will
not
be able
to
last
much
longer.
He
begins
to
graze
kisses
along
my
jaw.
When our lips meet, I know that I will be broken for a long time. I could
kiss him forever, and I want to, but I only have minutes. I want days. I
want
weeks.
I
want
forever!
As
he
pulls
away
and
our
eyes
meet,
I
realize that
I
don’t
get
any
of
those
things.
All
I
get
is
one
last
swift
kiss
before
he’s
gone.

I lie down on my bed, curl into a tight little ball, and begin to
cry.
When
I
hear
his
car
start,
I
feel
the
crack
in
my
chest
getting
bigger,
and as the sounds of his engine start to dissipate, knowing
that’s
he’s
gone, realizing
that
I
was
head
over
heels
in
love
with
him
but
didn’t
tell
him,
that’s
when my heart shatters
completely.

It’s
freezing
cold
outside
and
I
should
have
brought
a
jacket.
The
sweat
still
dripping
between
my
shoulder
blades
was
making
me
shiver
even worse. I tossed my bag in the backseat of my car and
immediately pulled out my running pants and slipped them on over my tennis
skirt.
Why
I
didn’t
change
inside
was
beyond
me.
I
was
so
excited
to
have
my last “ordered” therapy that I just want to get home. Plus, it was my
best friend’s birthday, and I couldn’t wait to
celebrate.

Pulling
out
of
the
parking
lot,
I
noticed
the
fresh
snow
that
had fallen while I was inside. Michigan winters can be rough, but they
are also
very
beautiful
and
very
unpredictable.
Last
week,
we
had
just
a light
dusting
on
the
ground,
and
now
it
looked
like
we
had
close
to
three feet. It made me wonder how much more we’ll get before
Christmas. Last
year,
we
didn’t
have
any.
We
had
a
warm
spell
a
couple
of
days before, and it all melted until after the
holidays.

As I pulled into our apartment complex, I started to go through
my to-do
list
in
my
head
when
I
realized
that
my
mom’s
car
was
home.
Why was
she
not
at
work?
I
glanced
down
at
the
clock
on
my
dash,
and
it
was
7:03
p.m.
She
was
supposed
to
start
her
shift
at
the
hospital
at
seven.
This has to be bad
, I thought. Mom never misses work; we can’t
afford it.

I trudged inside, not really wanting to leave the warmth of my car since
I
was
just
beginning
to
feel
my
legs
again.
When
I
opened
the front door, I was immediately surrounded by the smell of dinner. 
Not
just any dinner, either, but enchiladas! 
That’s
my
mom’s
famous
“bad news
dinner.”
Crap!
I
didn’t
need
this
right
now.
I
had
to
be
ready
in
less than forty-five minutes if we are going to make it to the movie on
time. Rounding
the
living
room,
I
decided
to
head
straight
for
the
shower.

Her
news
was
going
to
have
to
wait.
As
I
reached
for
the
handle,
thankful that
I
made
it
past
my
mom
undetected,
I
heard
my
sister.
The
door was locked, and I could hear she was crying to someone on the
phone.
Crying?
Double
crap!
This
was
worse
than
I
thought
it
was
going
to be. My sister never cries. Broken finger, twisted ankle, softball to
the eye,
she
is
tougher
than
I
am
and
has
her
emotions
completely
in
check. I
am
the
family
cry
baby,
and
it
has
always
been
that
way.
I
wear
my emotions on my sleeve—you never have to guess how I
feel.

Choices?
I
could
try
to
slip
into
my
room
and
go
to
the
movie without
a
shower.
Yuck!
I
couldn’t
sit
that
close
to
someone
else
and fear
that
I
smell
bad.
I
could
beat
down
the
door,
but
that
would
not solve
anything,
and
my
mom
would
know
that
I
was
home.
If
she
knew I
was
here,
she
would
corner
me,
and
then
I
was
stuck
talking
about her news. The only other option was to leave and go somewhere else
to shower. That would put me way over my forty-five-minute time
limit though.
Crap!

Just
as
I
was
about
to
tangle
with
option
1
and
which
perfume
I
was
going
to
overspray
on
myself,
the
door
opened,
and
my
sister,
bloodshot eyes
and
tear-stained
face,
walked
out.
I
gave
her
an
“Are
you
all
right” look, and she started to cry again and bolted for her room. I heard
the lock
click
into
place
and
began
to
wonder
just
how
bad
my
mom’s
news really
was,
but
I
needed
a
shower.
I
needed
to
get
ready
to
go
out.
I needed
to
avoid
my
mom
at
all
costs
now,
or
my
eyes
and
face
were
going
to
look
twice
as
bad
as
my
sisters,
and
that
was
not
what
I
needed right
then.

Shower,
check.
Hair,
check. Makeup, check. Time, 7:35
p.m. Excellent! I had ten minutes before I had to be
ready.
Just enough
time for
me
to
pick
out
what
to
wear.
I
opened
my
closet
and
grabbed
a sweater.
It
should
work,
but
now
to
find
some
clean
jeans,
I
don’t
think
I had
any.
Looks
like
I
was
going
to
have
to
wear
a
skirt
and
my
legs
were
going to freeze. I really needed to do laundry this
weekend.

A knock on my door brought my thoughts back to reality. I bet
it was
my
mom.
She
had
left
me
alone
this
long,
but
I
knew
she
would
get me before I was able to get out of the house. I heard her open the
door and
walk
in,
but
I
kept
my
back
to
her,
head
still
in
my
closet,
pretending to pick out my clothes. I pulled my sweater on, but I needed to
change out
of
my
sweatpants
still.
I
stared
at
myself
in
the
mirror
and
continued to pretend that I hadn’t noticed
her.

My
hair
looked
great.
I
had
straightened
out
most
of
the
natural curls, curled the ends, and pulled it up into a high ponytail. My
friends always
wonder
why
I
straighten
my
hair
and
then
curl
it.
I
was
so
used
to the
natural
curls
that
this
made
me
look
different,
and
I
liked
it.
It’s
such
a
dark
shade
of
brown
that
I
really
should
consider
doing
something
special
with
it
over
break.
Maybe
I
could
try
blonde
highlights?
I
gazed at
my
reflection
in
the
mirror
and
tried
to
picture
myself
with
highlights when
I
noticed
my
face.
It’s
flawless
this
week,
and
the
little
bit
of makeup I put on really brought out the natural rosy tint on my
cheeks. My
eye
makeup
had
made
my
bluish-hazel
eyes
pop
and
look
a
little
smoky.
Wow!
I like the way that made me look.