Endings are bittersweet;  the last page of a novel, a curtain coming to a close, or the last note of your favorite song. Our ending began on an unsuspecting Thursday, when I went to see him after his last class. It was a fall afternoon, and I smiled up at the sky, the light shining sweetly down on me through the bare branches. Everything seemed to be falling into place. The autumn sun shone warmly, it’s rays gently kissed my cheeks, while the wind softly fluttered the scarf that was draped around my neck. I walked into the campus’s parking lot. It was a seemingly peaceful scene with crisp, red maple leaves scattered around the few remaining cars. I had made cookies and wanted to surprise Owen with them. My heart fluttered blithely at the thought of spending such a cozy afternoon with him. We had come so far from when I had met him and my heart still pounded with the same passion as when we first fell in love. He occupied my thoughts all the time and my love for him had never faltered.
As I ambled my way to his car, a feeling of dread fell over me like a looming shadow and trickled down my spine like ice water. My heart dropped into my gut as I discovered he was already there. I took a few more steps in my state of shock, unable to drop my eyes from the car’s window. Suddenly it seemed as if the cozy autumn breeze turned chillingly cold. They were in the backseat of his worn-down mustang. The plate full of cookies tumbled from my hands and clattered down onto the pavement, breaking the silence. I stood there, my eyes wide with uncertainty, frantically trying to fathom what was going on. It seemed surreal. Eventually I gathered myself enough to leave.
As I was turning around I heard his voice scratch out, “Aria?”, a pause, “baby wait please”. Owen’s words were weighed down with guilt, but not regret. A deep feeling of melancholy brewed and smoldered in my gut. He watched me leave, my steps growing quicker as my eyes brimmed with tears. I got in my car and rested my forehead on the steering wheel, my face burning with shame and embarrassment.
The following Monday came too quickly. My sandy brown hair brushed my arms as I cowered through the hallway. I couldn’t help but feel the staring eyes on my back, suffocating me like a itchy wool sweater. I kept imagining the perfect life I had built around him tumbling down silently, and I realized how fragile it all had been. I kept moving down the hallways, my head down to avoid the sympathetic looks. Whispers floated around me like a constant reminder of the fact that I hadn’t been enough for him, they echoed in my head until I felt empty like the wind was knocked out of me.
Keeping my eyes down I managed to make it to my next class just as the bell began to ring. Quietly I slid into my seat. My professor mumbled something not yet comprehensible to my still flustered brain. No matter how hard I tried to be invisible everyone knew what happened. Until the next hormone-filled teenage tragedy occurred I would be isolated and thrust in the limelight.
Without my realizing it, class had gone by. The blank white walls were restricting, and I was yearning to leave. Luckily the bell rang and I could escape. I was so relieved to see my best friend waiting for me outside of the lecture hall. She wrapped me in a big hug and I nearly broke down crying in the middle of the hallways. It was so comforting to not feel alone anymore. Pippa and I had been closer than sisters since the first day of third grade. She pulled away and I was brought back to my reality.
We were already running late to our class so we skipped it. It felt pointless anyways.   Sitting on the floor of the bathroom I tried to pour my heart out to her, hoping it would relieve me of the weight on my chest. “Is it bad that I’m not even shocked?” I asked, “I just hate that he got away with it.”
Pippa seemed confused by this, “Wow... if I was cheated on I would not be as calm as you are, we should egg his car or something.”
“Calm” wasn’t the right word for what I was feeling, it was more of an emptiness in the pit of my stomach or a numbness I couldn’t quite explain. Like the empty gap left from a tooth that got pulled out. I had always felt like Owen and I had some unspoken arrangement. We were on the track to get married and live our suburban-dream lives together. He would have a 9-5 job in the city and I would stay home and raise the kids. It never sounded particularly satisfying to me, but such was life, and it was a stable plan. Now I was completely abandoned. I couldn’t blame him for wanting more, I did too honestly, but I felt betrayed and humiliated at the thought of him with another girl. A mistress was something that should be the concern of matronly housewives with post-baby bodies, not 19 year old college girls like me! It felt like gravity hit me twice as hard and I couldn’t stop sinking. I didn’t understand how you could stop loving someone so suddenly.
I could still remember the first time I had met him. We were both still in high school, it was nearly three years ago. I had been waiting for my mom to pick me up from the front steps of the school. He confidently slid down next to me and introduced himself. I recognised him from my math class and already had formed a slight crush on him. He had strikingly deep brown eyes that lit up like a warm auburn bonfire every time he spoke passionately, his smile was a tender grin that made the world softer, and his skin was strewed with constellations of faded freckles. We talked for a while about nothing of real substance. A few more minutes went on, then there was a comfortable silence. His hand slowly grabbed mine, our fingers becoming interlaced. I could feel my cheeks turning flustered and pink as I scrambled for something interesting to say, when he interrupted my thoughts with a kiss. It was over as soon as it began, but it lingered on my lips like a sip of champagne. He gave me a smirk while I melted into the seat from embarrassment. After that we got along fairly well and few years later I followed him to college. Our relationship had become like a well-worn sweater, it was comfortable and tender but had lost the luster of novelty. He had become the first boy i’ve ever loved, and I thought he would be the last. We had a real chance of spending the rest of our lives together.
Pippa waited for me to gain my composure before we decided to leave. I felt exposed to the world as I stepped out of my hiding spot. The lights shined on me harshly and with every step I took the tiles echoed down the lonely hall. As soon as I got out of the building l I locked eyes with Owen. His eyes washed over me and I wanted to be wrapped up in the comforting embrace I knew so well. He looked at me with a plea for forgiveness. I nearly melted inside with longing but my expression remained fixed. He seemed bashful as he walked in my direction.
“Aria, c’mon, you can’t be mad at me for something dumb like this!” He said, his expression tinted with desperation. I could tell he knew how much we needed each other, even if he stopped wanting me long before.
I tried my best to remain stoic and brave as I responded, “ Owen, I don’t think we can go out anymore”, the words came out croaky as they escaped my throat. I didn’t even wait for him to respond as I walked away, not wanting him to see the hot tears forming in my eyes. I mourned the relationship that we shared, thinking of everything I would miss about him. As brash as he could be, we still had tender moments. I wanted so badly for him to care about me and to fight for our relationship. I would have denied the fact he was unfaithful if he would just stop me from walking away, but he stood still watching me go. I could think of a thousand reasons why I should call him and live the life my parents had lived, but when I looked past my shattered heart I knew I deserved more than someone who didn’t want my love.