TEEN FICTION: 'I Don't Want To Get Married. Not Now, Not Ever.'
This is a regular column featuring original fiction by and for high school students, provided by Figment.com, an online community writing site for young people.
Don't ask where I'm going.
I'm going away. I'm going my way.
Finally it's my time to be lonely, and lost, unloved and I can't wait.
“Please Kate, you don’t have to do this. Think it over.” I saw the tears in his eyes, but my decision didn’t waver. I couldn’t stay here anymore. I’d tried lying to myself, but I knew this wasn’t what I wanted. I’d never be happy waking up every morning dreading the inevitable ‘Sorry, I’ve met someone else’ talk. I couldn’t stand seeing his parents every Christmas. I couldn’t marry him.
Before I walked out the door, with my suitcase filled with shoes and sweaters, I slid the diamond ring off of my finger and placed it in his clenched fist. Standing on my tiptoes I gave him a small kiss on the cheek and whispered, “I’m sorry Andy.”
And I was, I might’ve been able to be happy with him, but he deserved better than me, he deserved the best. “But I’ve thought it over. I have no desire to get married. Not now, not ever.”
“But where will you go?” It was a good question, and I didn’t know the answer to it. “I’m going my way.” It made no sense but he seemed to know what I meant, just like he always did.
Stepping out of the room and into the hall, I saw a single tear fall from his eye, leaving him completely vulnerable. Feeling nothing but pity for him I lugged my bag to the elevator and waited for the familiar ding. It would be the last time I’d hear it.
When the elevator finally arrived I pressed the button that would be bring me down to the lobby, and officially end my healthiest relationship. When the elevator reach the lobby, I stood on the white marble for what seemed like forever. What do I do now?
As I stood there the hotel manager came up to me and said, “Can I bring your car around Miss Valer?” Nodding I accepted his offer, the car was the only thing I still had. I no longer had a home, or a fiance, or a job. I was doomed to fail.
When the car rounded the corner and stopped in front of the Hotel I climbed into the front seat and handed the valet a twenty, the usual amount. He tipped his head and opened the door for me, as usual. Sliding into the car and buckling myself in I thanked him, for the last time.
When the valet shut the door the ancient glove box fell open. Colorful postcard after postcard fell out and I tried to pick them up, but my seatbelt continuously hindered me. Sighing I shut off the car and unbuckled myself.
Sifting through the letters I saw what they were. Five years earlier, when Andy and I had just celebrated our second anniversary, I had gone to Kentucky, by myself, for a little R&R.
Every day I was gone he had sent me a postcard. They hadn’t seemed important to me at the time, they had no heartfelt words scrawled on them or funny jokes. They were the stereotypical postcards you could find anywhere. A beach in Tahiti, the pyramids of Egypt, the Eiffel Tower, Rainbow Falls, Buckingham Palace, the Great Wall of China, Stonehenge, Venice, Hollywood, the Taj Mahal.
Upon returning I’d realized their importance. While I was gone he had planned a series of trips, and I soon found myself visiting every single place he’d sent me. At the last place we’d gone, the Eiffel Tower, he’d proposed. In the spur of the moment I’d said yes, and I’d thought I had meant it, but after a few months I began to regret my decision. Prompting me to leave him.
But as I sat there, looking through the postcards I had never taken out of my car, the feelings I’d kept locked inside rushed out. I began to cry and as each car whooshed past me I cried harder. I was in love with him, so much so that I’d tried running away to save myself.
He’d never forgive me, even if I begged. I’d gotten my wish. I was going to be alone, and unloved. Time would pass and he’d forget about me and the pain I’d caused, but I’d never forget him. I loved him too much.
“Are you okay Miss Valer?” Jumping with shock I realized that I was still in front of the hotel, crying my eyes out. Shoving the door open, nearly knocking the valet down, I raced to the elevator.
Running through the lobby I made it to the elevator just as it was beginning to close. Rapidly pressing the button for the twenty-third floor I tried to calm myself, but my heart continued pounding
Tapping my foot I waited for the elevator to climb but it seemed to be moving at a glacier pace. Trying to pass the time by thinking of what I was going to say didn’t work, since nothing came to mind, but soon enough the elevator doors opened to reveal the familiar floor. Running down the hall towards our room I began to knock on it. ”Andy! I’m sorry!” I repeated this a dozen times, and continued knocking until my hands began to swell and turn pink.
Just when I was about to break down with defeat he opened the door. Upon seeing my face he opened his mouth to say something, but I kissed him before he could. He resisted my touch at first but after a few seconds he began to return it. Holding him as closely as I could I knew that I could never be happy without him.
When we finally parted he smiled and said, ”I knew you’d come back.” Blushing and smiling I said,”Of course you knew.” Holding my letters in one hand and his palm with the other, I walked back into our home. Content.