i really was angry with you. first of all, the party you dragged me to this time was a frat party at a college three hours away. at this point, i have gotten used to the local house parties. i still don't enjoy them, but i've gotten used to it. but this one… by the time we arrived, i was already tired from driving for so long without rest because we "should have left two hours earlier."
second of all, you disappeared on me during the party. i don't mind it if you go and have fun on the dance floor anymore (i mean, you dance pretty well), but i couldn't find you at all at the party. i even asked around about you, and one of the many people whom i asked claimed that she saw you climbing into a cab with a random guy.
i'm sorry to say that my reaction was an overpowering mix of fury and concern. i can't recall much from that night after i heard about you leaving because i drank myself into oblivion while waiting for you to answer my calls, my texts, anything. yet nothing could drown out the images in my head of you giggling and reaching for the crook of his elbow, of him smirking and leading you to the cab, of— i can't even finish my sentence because even just my thoughts add up to huge mess of worry and doubt and fear and confusion.
i didn't want to believe that you betrayed me, my trust, and my love. i really didn't. but there was something in me that couldn't ignore the possibility that you might have made a drunken mistake. a drunken mistake. somehow, trying to justify it that way doesn't make it any better, even now.
when i managed to find you (cozy and warm in your bed like you had never disappeared on me), you were crying. your sobs racked through your whole body, and it looked as if your small and fragile figure couldn't contain the sadness that had welled up inside you. and that was all it took for me to forget my anger and hurt.
i don't know how much time passed with me cradling you in my arms and you crying into my chest, but i suppose that doesn't matter. any time spent with you is still priceless to me. perhaps there is no way to measure how much a moment with you is worth, and perhaps there is no limit that describes the way i approach you, infinity, and perhaps there isn't one of your namesakes big enough to contain the way i feel for you.
as i just mentioned, i don't know how much time passed while i tried to comfort you, but your brother happened to enter your room at some point, and he looked exhausted, to say the least. he didn't even bother glaring at me or anything. instead, he took you from my arms and told me to help myself to the kitchen while he calmed you down.
i didn't fight him, and maybe i should have, but i knew that what i was doing wasn't helping much. so i let him take you from me and fretted alone in your kitchen (but i didn't take any food because i wouldn't have been able to stomach it anyway). comforting you is not a technique i've learned, but i am determined to learn it soon.
your brother joined me in the kitchen some time later, saying that you had gone to sleep. i began to leave, but he asked me to stay. to say i was as confused by that as i am by how ordinal numbers work is an understatement. but i stayed regardless, if only to be in your brother's good graces.
he wanted to know how our relationship was going. i told him that we were fine but also that we'd been going to more and more parties as time went on. (i didn't mention that you had allegedly gotten into a cab with someone other than me.) he gave me a resigned smile and told me that i could leave if i wanted to, that no one would blame me. and i couldn't believe he said that nor could i believe that what he said was true for a second because i would blame myself. it's my job to stay by your side, and i'm going to do my best to make that happen or die trying regardless of what problems we might face.
his smile only grew more tired.
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