Shannen Camp - The Breakup Artist

“Amelia, it’s not like I’m going to judge you because of that. I just want to be able to make you happy.” He put his arm around me, and I let my head rest on his shoulder. As I closed my eyes and took in his scent, I was overcome with just how exhausted I was. If I had any more emotionally stressful days, I’d have to start getting more sleep. My breathing slowed as a heavy lethargy rolled over me.

“Are you tired?” he asked, though his voice seemed distant.

“Mmhmm,” I answered wordlessly. I could feel David moving beside me, but I wasn’t quite sure what exactly he was doing. After a little jostling I knew that he was lying behind me with an arm draped over my shoulders. I took his hand and held it against me like a blanket. Then I let myself fall asleep in his arms.

“Amelia?” I heard a soft, familiar voice whisper in my ear. I could feel a warm body beside me and the weight of an arm resting over me, which made me smile. David even smelled wonderful in the morning. I nestled my head against his chest and breathed him in, keeping my eyes closed in an attempt to fall back asleep. “Amelia?” came the voice again. “Amelia, we’re late for school… really late for school.” The words spoken by the voice vaguely registered with me, but I knew they were something I should be reacting to. As much as I tried to stir panic within me, I just couldn’t seem to pull myself out of this comfortable place.

“How late?” I mumbled against David’s neck.

“Let’s just say that if we don’t leave now, we’ll be in danger of walking in late to our second class… first period’s already over.” Now I was awake, but still, there was just no room for panic right now. I’d spent a lot of last night crying, and the whole ordeal had just worn me out, so to wake up next to David was the best possible feeling in the world at the moment. I didn’t want to wake up in an empty house with a note from my mother lying about where she was.

I yawned and pulled myself closer to him so that we were completely entwined together. “I don’t want to get up,” I whined wearily, letting my foot rub against his. I could hear him laugh softly at this protest, and he began to move. I knew he was getting up, but I just didn’t want to have any part of that. “If we walk in late to our second class we’ll be drawing more attention to ourselves,” I said reasonably. “We should go in during lunch when lots of other students will be leaving and returning to campus.” I waited for his response, now finally opening my eyes.

David’s shaggy blond hair was sticking up in various directions, and his cheeks looked a bit stubbly, but his green eyes were just as bright as ever. I didn’t even want to think about what I looked like. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “I guess that makes sense.” I had won. It was a nice feeling, and I celebrated the victory by giving him a small kiss. It felt somewhat scandalous that I had woken up in the arms of this boy and was now kissing him while lying on the couch, but I knew it was innocent, so it didn’t bother me. He smiled at me and pulled me against him so I could rest my head on one of the throw pillows on the couch. Our faces were just inches away, and he rested his forehead against mine.

“Are you hungry?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“I’m more tired than anything,” I admitted. We must have gotten a good ten hours of sleep, but I felt more exhausted than when I’d fallen asleep the night before.

“Well, then why don’t you get some more sleep and I’ll make some eggs… do you like eggs?” I nodded happily and closed my eyes once more. He gave me the smallest of kisses and stood from the couch, allowing me to spread out. We didn’t have a particularly large couch, and it felt good to be able to stretch my arms and legs. I could only imagine how poor David had to feel. I’d slept on his arm all night, which couldn’t have been too amazingly comfortable for him.

I fell in and out of a light sleep and was eventually awakened by a wonderful smell. When he’d said he was going to make eggs, that must have been a code word for eggs, bacon, and toast, because there was a lot more going on in the kitchen than just eggs. I stood up groggily and made my way to the bathroom to do some damage control before going back into the kitchen. Looking in the mirror I was met with a frightening sight. My hair was everywhere, my face had little red splotches from being warmly nestled against David, and my eyeliner made me look like a raccoon. Sleeping in my clothes had been uncomfortable enough, but the collar of my shirt had left deep red lines all over my neck, no doubt from my constant wriggling during the night. I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face, which at least got rid of the red splotches and makeup. Then I ran a brush through my untamed hair and pulled it back into a short ponytail.

Feeling that this was as good as I would be able to look on such short notice, I made my way into the kitchen where David already had two plates of food set up for us, complete with glasses of orange juice. I wasn’t quite sure where he had found all of these ingredients, but then again my mother and I never cooked. We lived on take-out food and leftovers. Who knew that so much could be made with whatever we had stored in our cupboards?

I breathed in the aroma of the freshly made food and gave David a satisfied smile. “I still can’t believe you can cook so well,” I said as we began to eat.

“I can’t really do much. Just basic stuff,” he answered modestly.

“My cooking skills extend to reheating… and that’s all. So that makes this pretty impressive.” He looked down at his food, but I saw a pleased smile on his face, which I pretended not to notice.

We talked about our upcoming date on Friday and conveniently stepped around any conversation having to do with the events of the previous day. When we had finished breakfast I told David I’d get the dishes so that he could run home to change his clothes and meet me at school. We had a brief farewell on the doorstep, and I went back into the house to take care of the breakfast dishes. I couldn’t believe how everything had turned out all right after what I’d seen yesterday. I still wasn’t ready to really mentally examine the ordeal, but I felt that I had a secure enough grasp of the situation that I wouldn’t break down anymore.

David had been such a help both intentionally and unintentionally that I couldn’t seem to comprehend just how much he was beginning to mean to me. I tried to ignore the little nagging possibilities that this couldn’t last forever and that we would someday join the ranks of failed high school relationships, but it made me wonder if that was how everyone felt. Surely David and I had a special relationship, far above the ones I had helped to destroy. But what if that wasn’t the case? What if all relationships started out with that same exciting hope that maybe you’ve actually found something special? Did that make me a bad person for destroying what little spark of hope these people had? Was I just an embodiment of social failure because I wasn’t able to interact normally with other people? And had I made it my life’s work to bring them down with me?

That had certainly never been my intention, but what if through all of my self-assurance that I was helping people, I’d actually become something bad? These thoughts were exactly the reason I needed David around. I didn’t think so much about these kinds of things when he was with me. But then again, did that mean I was simply using him as a convenience? Did I want him because he fixed something in me? Wasn’t that what made people love each other? They found their missing piece, the person who completed them, and they wanted to stay with that person so they could continue to feel whole?