You Can’t Erase The Pain AwayWhat feels like swirls of big and small flames circulate behind thesliver bit of space behind the nerves of my spine. It’s never-ending.I flinched at the familiar smell of his cologne reminding me of thehot breath from his exhale softly blowing against my nape. Thethoughts in my mind couldn’t comprehend the feelings that hadnot yet faded. I knew that I should take the little steps for myself,but I carelessly chose what felt like the simpler alternative.However, I did not realize that this would lead my inner voice to getquieter and quieter.It was Wednesday, March 29, 2022, the third trimester ofseventh grade. All of the students were walking to their buses aftera long day of classes, excited for the 4-day-weekend ahead.Personally, it didn’t matter much to me‒ a weekend is a weekend.What I was excited about was that my boyfriend and I were walkingtogether. Let’s call him Jimmy. Jimmy and I have been a couple for3 months, and walking to our buses together was our nonverbalway of saying goodbye. His company was very special to me.Suddenly, Jimmy stops. He hesitantly speaks in a mumbling voicewith a hint of guilt.“Hey, I’ve got something important to say… Can we be friends?”I felt a wave of shock reverberate through my chest, and my eyes widened as the words started to sink in. It felt like my heart gotcrushed by a slow, hard, and heavy weight of gravity. I thought thatwe were in a good place with each other, but I suppose heapparently thought otherwise. I felt as though I had to rush in orderto answer his prompt, worried that I wouldn't make it to my bus ontime, so I quickly agreed without a second to process what justhappened.“Oh, yeah! Sure, we can be friends!” I said, with a smile as ifeverything was okay. He sighed with relief, and his stiffness meltedas he hugged me.“Thanks for understanding,” he said before walking towards hisbus, maintaining his focus ahead. He didn’t even look back once.My feet slowly made their way up the stairs of the bus. When Isat down next to the window, I couldn’t suppress my emotions. Iquietly sobbed during the bus ride, trying my best to not attractattention. My voice huffed softly, delicate whispers of despair. Ibawled my eyes out like raindrops that downpour from the gloomysky. I realized that I’ve been left with two options. One option isadjusting to be his friend and the second is to go through anemotional journey of grief, and I didn't know which I’d have to pick.Throughout time, the pain of heartbreak hasn't left mepermanently. Yet, it wasn’t as intense as it was two years ago. Mymind was in a state where words couldn’t capture the depth of my inner emotions to even speak aloud, and yet I still drew my pencilon my paper in an attempt to write my words. Even a misspellingcan’t be erased completely. It just exists as an imprint that can’t beremoved. It stays as a reminder of what could have been.
