Chapter 3

Rejection is what I am feeling right now. For how long will a person tolerate rejection? When will they reach their breaking point? Will it be caused by those they call family? Or will strangers make the shot? Will it be caused by repetitive rejection or is once enough?

This feeling is unbearable.

I got home after taking a walk from Nick's house more fueled with anger than ever. At this point I do not even care it is justified or not however I have a goody-two-shoes assuring me that it is not. I feel used. I feel like gave myself up only to be tossed liked stale bread. I give myself to to people all time but no one finds me worthy enough to even be liked in that way. In all truth I did not care about these things until my texts from "friends" were about them.

I head straight to my room as soon as I am inside the house. I can't even cry. I do not want to cry. I am fuming inside even though I do not look like it. I feel as though a wall is being built inside of me yet somehow I feel as though I am crumbling down all the same.

I feel like I am lashing out because my mind is racing but then again I am also keeping it in. I am not showing any type of emotion even though I am alone in the house.

The funny part? Is that feel the weird need to act like those kids on television - go punk or goth or whatever the hell gives the message that "I'm hurt but it's none of your business". I usually brush things off but today, well today I cannot brush it off. Whenever I try to I feel livid simply because I invested everything I possibly could - figuratively at least and to him is nothing ;nothing at all.

I need to recover from this. I will recover from this and when I do it will be a grand slam.

Nick is not the only boy to exist on earth; I'll move on. I just wonder if this is the end of our friendship. If this whole ordeal means the end of ice cream "dates", golf Sundays and endless memories to keep me wondering if a day is truly 24 hours (sometimes it seemed longer but it mostly felt a lot less than 24 hours. I cannot even talk to my mom about this. She has a strict "no dating under my roof" policy.

I got myself into this nonsense. I'll get myself out. I'll ignore Nick, delete pictures, contact numbers and block him. Life was so much easier in middle school, college has to be my reset button. All this thinking kept me from realising that I was pacing around in my room. I decide to stop and sit in front of the wall across my bed.

This is when it feels silent - when it feels like the headmaster has walked into a room full of loud seventeen - year - olds immediately ceasing their unrest when acknowledging his presence.

My head hurts and my heart is confused. So much so that my eyes closed up then I found my happy place; my destruction. Funny that it is all in one place - my head.

I woke up when my sister Kehlani came into my room in the evening to tell me about her day and I then realised that I had slept on the floor and it was amazingly comfortable my parents should return my bed it seems that it's useless.

"Mom and dad bought the bed for a reason, you know. It seems your use for it is rather aesthetic and not as functional as intended." Kehlani teased.

"Funny, I was... thinking" I countered.

"Great to know that hardwood floors are a great source for ideas. I'm telling mom if you don't buy me lunch next Saturday" she said leaving my room.

Although she was spicy about it she sort of made my day. It's good to have someone care. It's sad when you realise it when they do not or aren't there anymore. Maybe I should treat her to that lunch - she deserves it unlike Nick. Hopefully the bitterness will be gone by Saturday. I have better things to do with my time than be a salty "b"- word. If only mom knew that I actually call out these words when frustrated.

This was a first. People drink themselves to sleep, break things even all thanks to heartbreak and I think myself to sleep on the floor. I am an icon. An unrealised one but however still an icon.

This icon however still needs to face Nick at some point. I have to inform everyone who thought we were a thing that we (no longer) aren't? I have this thing were I cannot keep quiet about my love interests and I have come to believe that those (hopefully) listening grow tired of the details of my life it is funny how I share so much about myself but it still does not give anyone whom (I hope) cares about me insight into who I truly am. Heck ; even I do not know who I truly am. I am still trying - key word trying to navigate my way around ; surely I cannot expect someone to get to the finish line. If they do would ;before me that is would I be comfortable enough with the fact that I will be taught to fit into the person I am? Is there even an outline for any and everyone into becoming who they are?

Do we find or make ourselves? Was the person I was with Nick for Nick and everyone else on Nick's side truly me? All the carefree moments, where they acts of fitting in or really acts of living and truly and just being. Do I regret them no however I do regret caring. It was only my brain and hearts invaluable hard work.