ANSWERED, @hatesghostsâ
 âWhy are you â saying all these things ââ
The thing was, he could see it all with her- the cozy home, a dog, a family. The late, lazy Sunday evenings snuggled under blankets eating ice cream. The way heâd find ways to enjoy the parties he always dreaded, because heâd know she was just around the corner, and it made her happy to be there.
How the hard times wouldnât be so hard; even when he didnât know how to communicate, because sheâd just hold him- that much, theyâd already experienced. Jess knew she was it for him, but there it ticked in the back of his mind, closing up the back of his throat.
Every safety heâd ever felt, Jess recoiled from, or struck it with his venom. Why would this be any different? Jess was impulsive. Most of the time, his impulses were lead by emotions that came on quick and harsh, and thatâs what had led him to moving across the country. Itâs what made him foolish enough to think that his dad was going to finally step up and take him in, now that he was old enough to be less of a burden. Itâs why he was stuck living in his car, and itâs what finally made him realize that he was simply no good. This was always how it was going to be for him; a short fuse, a closed off hermit. Life had not been gentle with him, and he didnât see that changing anytime soon. He couldnât see himself changing anytime soon. Everything everyone had always said about him was true.Â
Jess had made a mistake- he knew it was a mistake, but he couldnât dare go crawling back now. Not when heâd painted a picture in his head of how everything she loved about him would one day be the things she would hate. The way he always had a smart comment, or how he didnât like going to parties, or meeting new people. How quick he was to defend others, even if it meant taking a beating.Â
Jess also knows that his mind likes to play tricks on him, lie to him, tell him that everyone leaves; he knows this, and still he canât make himself stop seeing the lie. Try as he might, he canât stop the words from leaving. He canât stop himself from tearing everything apart.
The more she hated him, the better off she was. Truly. The sniffles he hears over the phone werenât ones he was a stranger to, but heâd never known himself to be the cause. The tear he feels inside isnât something that makes him stop for a moment to think straight; instead, it fuels his thoughts that all heâs going to bring her is pain and disappointment. Even if sheâd not once expressed that; deep in his head, he just knew it was coming. It was better to get it over with, so she could move on with her life.Â
âBecause you need to hear it.â The usual venom in his tone when he pulled the final string nowhere to be found. The steam he had was running out, and he knew he had to get off the phone before he caved. âI think I met someone,â And as the lie leaves his tongue he feels a white heat wrap around his throat. â- and we shouldnât be wasting our last year of high school stuck on someone three-thousand miles away.â Maybe he could convince himself, too. âIâm sorry, itâs just not realistic.â