January 3, 2010
By MeagA BRONZE, Elmhurst, Illinois
MeagA BRONZE, Elmhurst, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Because they hadn’t yet met, she was sitting in the classroom a half hour early for class, reviewing old notes, organizing her thoughts for the upcoming lecture, when he whipped the door open and stumbled in.
“Oh my God, is it over?!”
“The chemistry lecture? It’s at ten.”
And that’s when he noticed her. Of course. She was the small, brunette girl. Overly interested in this and every other class he had with her. Where others were fighting for the back row, hung-over and half asleep, she was front and center with hand held high in the air. The teacher’s pet he had thought to himself at first. The generic sort of prissy girl who is clearly going for the gold. But then, he hadn’t really noticed her.
Because he never looked at her as closely as he did that day. With long, curly hair and a scrawny look about her. She had brown eyes. Funny, he had always imagined his ideal with blue eyes, but somehow those brown eyes were what really caught him now. And as he talked to her his curiosity grew. He wanted to know her. She seemed like that kind of girl. The one he might date for a few years, maybe marry. He had planned on meeting her later, maybe junior year, but here she was; the Fates had spoken.
Because she was ambitious, they had gone their separate ways. She comforted herself with the reminders of their constant arguments, the little they had in common, his lazy attitude, and her potential. This was it; she was graduating and already had a job lined up. This had always been her dream. And although it seems contradictory to all love stories, there was no little empty spot in her heart.
Because she didn’t miss him.
Because she had rejected him. When, from the very first day he talked to her in that God forsaken lecture hall, he had assumed that, like any other girl, she had been searching for love. Searching for someone who she could connect to. Connect with, in the way that all girls idolize. She had cared enough to be with him for almost three years. But when it came right down to it, she wasn’t the kind of girl who wanted someone to spend the rest of her life with. The truth was she never thought she needed anyone. As cynical and narcissistic as that sounds, she always believed herself strong enough to survive on her own. And even after she met him, after the first year, and then two more, she knew she loved him. But never needed him.
Because he made mistakes.
Because they fought.
Because he made her cry.
Because he hurt her.
Because she hated feeling like he needed her.
Because he said he loved her.
Because she said it back.
And as she sat there, in the hospital waiting room, she revisited the reasons why she hadn’t been there for him. She relieved those moments in her life where she thought that maybe he was all she needed in life to be happy. She remembered their first date. And then their last. How had they gotten to that day where it was all she could do to stop herself from telling him how much she loathed him? She recalled the surprising effortlessness it took her to get over him. The delight she felt in her independence.
And the horrifying feeling she felt when they told her he was hurt.
Because now she realized the truth. That after a year of living her dream and building the kind of lifestyle she always dreamed for herself, it wasn’t enough. That he was miles away learning to live his life without her. That he wasn’t living his dream.
Because she had robbed him of that. And now she realized that this wasn’t her dream either. This. Sitting here surrounded by others waiting to hear news. Hoping for the best. Dreading the worst. Praying to God that by some miraculous chance, this truck hadn’t killed him. That she would get another chance.
Because now she didn’t know what to do, as the nurse walked towards her shaking her head sadly and she began to cry.
Because she couldn’t live without him.
And now she had to.

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