A Loss Of Oxygen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
When things between Kaitlyn and William end on a bad note, she wants nothing more than to be able to clear her head of bad memories. But when she goes to a party to try and cheer herself up, her feelings only get ripped apart more.

Submitted: April 21, 2013

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Submitted: April 21, 2013

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The floor was crowded with people, and Kaitlyn was fed up with the lack of space that she contained. The room was hot, and began to smell strongly of a mixture of alcohol and cheap perfume. It was dark, almost too dark to make out anyone directly. Plus, there were too many people all around her, blocking her vision anyways.

She was alone.

Then again, she was always alone these days. Being ditched countless times for what some might say was a \"better option\". She still wasn't sure as to how or why his opinion of her had changed so quickly, and frankly the mystery of it all was beginning to drive her mad. She didn't understand how one day he was in love with her – holding her hand under the covers when they were at their friends apartment watching movies, kissing her good-bye when he would walk her home, making-out with her on his mother's couch – and the next, he was over her. For Kaitlyn, when feelings arrived, they were in for the long run. Now she just assumed that William was like all other boys: capable of changing his mind, and heart, at the snap of his fingers. She only wished that she shared that talent. It wasn't like he had been her boyfriend or anything, but it was as close as she had ever felt to another person. Didn't that count for something?

She never should have come to this party. She had assured herself that it would be fun to just get away from everything eating her inside. All she had wanted was one night to escape it all, just one night to forget about how William had abandoned her. Yet as she looked around the room, feeling dizzy from the scent, and the mass of people, it was all she could think about. Her thoughts were moving a mile a minute: that traitor, that liar, that backstabber. She couldn't control the thoughts anymore, they were just pouring through her, consuming all of her. A scene began to set in her mind, something that had taken place almost a month ago: Willaim and her sitting on her bedroom floor, with good foot in-between them. She could feel things changing between them, there wasn't that rush of emotion radiating from him anymore. She already knew, even before the words left his mouth. \"I don't feel that way about you...anymore.\"

Now, back in the hot mess of this party, this memory brought a lump in her throat, but she swallowed it down and looked on ahead of her. Suddenly, it was almost like magic, the crowd in front of her seemed to part, almost as if to create a pathway leading to the center of the room. She glanced down it, to see Willam. There he stood, in her direct line of vision, with some skinny blond girl.

They were holding hands.

Everything around her began to spin, and the walls were closing in. All oxygen was lost. Tears prickled in her eyes, begging to escape, but she was stronger than that. She had been holding all these emotions in for the past month, so she could hold them in until she got out of that party. She set her half finish drink down on a coffee table that was covered in rims from other cups, and a cigarette tray full of ashes. The rest of her exit was a blur: her running to the door, pushing past several people, swinging the door open, and bursting through onto the front porch, only to find herself tumbling down the porch steps and landing on the cool strip of grass next to them. She looked down at her white jeans to find them dirt and grass stained from the fall.

Not an ounce of her cared.

She began to take everything in: William had moved on. She had known that he had gotten over her, that much was obvious, but until now she always had a smidgen of hope that maybe; just maybe; he would come back to her. Seeing him with someone else just intensified how wrong that thought was. He would never love her again. When this realization crashed over her, the first tear fell. It swept down her cheek, making a clear path along the way.

Suddenly, another realization hit her. Crying over him wouldn't make him come back to her, and it certainly wouldn't make him love her again. The only way to get anything good to come from this situation was for her to get over it herself. She had to do exactly what Willaim did: move on. So she stood up from the filthy ground, brushed the dirt off her pants, wiped the tear from her face, and changed her mind set. She no longer wanted to be hung up on him, and only she could direct her future in such a way. But she wasn't going to sit around and wait for her feelings to fade, feeling sorry for herself every step of the way. She was going to be the strong girl she was, and fight on.


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