What Have I Done?
Guilt had led him here. Led him to this place. To these stairs. To the door before him. Guilt had made him pick up the phone and apologize. Guilt had made him pick up the phone and say he was leaving. Guilt had made him suppress his sinful feelings and rush back to where he believed he belonged.
"Oh, baby," Cameron cooed as she opened up her front door, "I've missed you so much." She fell into his open arms and melted into his embrace. Justin kissed the top of her head and stared blankly into space.
"I missed you too," he whispered, "I'm sorry."
"Me too," Cameron pulled away slightly and looked into his eyes, "I shouldn't have hit you. I'm sorry." Her hands caressed his stubble-covered cheek and she stared into his eyes lovingly.
"I deserved it," he mumbled, looking downward.
"No," Cameron argued, causing him to meet her gaze, "No, you didn't. I was out of line." Justin knew she was out of line at the time, but after what he did in Philadelphia, he knew he deserved more than just a few smacks.
"Believe me, I deserved it," Justin said softly as she took his hand and led him inside, "I called you a bitch."
"First of all, you didn't call me it, you implied it," Cameron corrected, "And secondly, I was being a big bitch, so you were right."
"I had no right to-"
"Justin," Cameron interrupted, "You were right, I was wrong. You usually just take that and run with it." Cameron smiled weakly to encourage him to form his own, but he simply shook his head.
"I should be a better fiance," he whispered as he stopped her from walking any further, "I should be a better father." His hands gently rested against her stomach and Cameron smiled at the warmth of them.
"Justin, you are the love of my life," she confided, "And you're going to be the best father any kid could have." Love of her life? Justin thought as he internally frowned. That was a title Justin wasn't so sure he could take, nevertheless, a small smirk curled the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you."
"No, baby," Cameron said softly, "Thank you." Her hand rested against his chest as she tilted her head upward to receive a kiss. Justin gently placed one on her lips and Cameron smiled against his mouth, "I love you." Cameron's words were flowed out so naturally, so lovingly, so sincerely that Justin was freightened by his hesitation to reply.
"I love you too," he finally responded once they pulled apart. Cameron didn't seem to notice his pause as she once again intertwined their hands and led him towards her stairs.
"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I haven't been sitting around, wasting time," Cameron said as they made it to the top of the steps.
"What do you mean?" Justin cautiously asked as they made it to the end of hall where Cameron's master bedroom was located. She simply smiled in response as she opened up the white door. Justin's blue eyes widened and his mouth parted slightly.
"I know I might've gone a little overboard," she admitted sheepishly, "But lonliness and an unnerving feeling of being an unfit mother is a bad combination." He didn't respond. Instead, he let go her hand and walked around the crowded room.
Strollers. Cribs. Toys. Diaper dispensers. Walkie talkies. Bottles. Clothes. Teething rings.
She had gone on a shopping spree and probably bought out every store in LA.
"There's no way we're going to use all of this. . ."
"Well, we might. . ." Cameron argued weakly.
"Yeah, if we have fifty kids," Justin chuckled, "Damn, you're not playing around with this parenthood thing, are you?"
"It wasn't just me," she smiled shyly, "My mom did this too."
"Sure, blame your mother," Justin smirked, "Wow, this is. . . crazy."
"I know," Cameron pouted, walking over to where Justin now stood. She hugged his arm and Justin laughed, kissing her forehead gently.
"It's okay though," Justin assured, "We're going to be so prepared now."
"Can you believe it though?" she asked dreamily, "We're going to be parents, man."
"I know," Justin said in a monotone, "We're getting married too." Cameron slipped her arms over his shoulders and stood in front of him. Justin rested his hands on her widening hips and looked her straight in the eyes. "It doesn't feel real."
"But it is, baby," Cameron grinned, "It's so real. And I'm so happy."
"Good," Justin replied, wishing he could feel the same way.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
I hate those fucked up situations. . .
You know, the ones that only happen to me.
Here I was thinking that my feelings weren't one sided, but it's obvious that they are. He left to go back to Cameron because he 'loved' her and wanted to make sure he didn't do anything to 'jepordize what they have'. . .
That's a fair thing for him to say, but why am I so pissed off? Why am I so hurt? Why am I more confused and stressed and overwhelmed than I was before?
I don't know.
Well, I know why I'm hurt. He did get on a plane and hightail it out of here before we could really talk. . .Plus he hasn't called in three days. . .And he did say he was leaving when he was already at the airport, waiting to board his flight instead of coming here and telling me to my face. . .
But Lord knows what I would've done to him if he had come over. Something tells me I would've done anything to get him to stay. But that would've just comfirmed Cameron's suspicions that I'm a backstabbing, Justin stealing bitch. . . Not that I care at this point.
I still respect Justin's decision to leave. It probably would've saved us some awkward confrontation that probably would've made things worse. . .
Cameron's most likely doing cartwheels now, knowing he, once again, chose her over me. I've already come to terms with this being the norm now. She is his fiance and soon to be the mother of his child. Who am I? The friend who's secretly in love with him again after abandoning his ass for three damn years?
I've got nothing on her.
"If you keep pouting like that, your face is going to stay that way." My eyes followed the direction of Adam's voice and landed on his hazel ones. The small smile on his face caused my weak one to subconsciously form.
"I know," I sighed, "But I can't help it. I'm having a bad week. . ."
"Let me guess," he said, "It has something to do with Justin."
"Yes," I admitted, "All of it has to do with Justin."
"And his leaving, right?" I nodded, "I guess you would be upset. You guys. . .um. . ."
"We what?" I asked.
"Look, I heard. . . what you did," Adam stammered, "It was a little weird, I'll admit it, but I wasn't surprised-"
"Whoa, buddy," I interrupted, "We didn't do anything. He was just being stupid. . ."
"What?"
"He was making the damn noises and jumping all over my bed," I laughed lightly, remembering that night clearly, "Nothing happened."
"Oh," Adam chuckled, "Okay, then nevermind-"
"What do you mean 'I wasn't surprised'?" I asked suddenly. Adam shrugged.
"Nothing," he dismissed, "I was just saying, since you guys were so loud, it was really obvious what was going on and-"
"Shut up," I smiled, "That's not what you meant and you know it."
"Maybe," Adam admitted, "But that isn't the point, Lonnie. I'm trying to get you out of your funky mood. It's been four days since he left."
"I know, but I don't know. . ." I didn't really feel like pouring my heart out to Adam. No offense to him, but he really wasn't my best friend.
"It's cool," Adam assured, "You don't have to tell me anything."
"It's not that I don't want to. . ."
"I'm not Tiffany or Allison," he smirked, "I understand that our friendship isn't quite there yet."
"Exactly," I sighed, happy that he understood.
"But can I give you a suggestion?"
"Sure. . ." I said, "Suggest your heart out."
"Okay," Adam chuckled, "Write it down."
"Write what down?"
"Whatever it is your feeling," he explained, "It's a great way to express yourself."
"I can't even think straight, how am I suppose to write?" Adam laughed.
"Honey, it's not a term paper," he smiled, "It's okay for it to be incoherent and have crossed out words. . . This is for you only, alright?" I nodded my head and smiled at him.
"I'll try it," I told him.
"Good," he said, "It really works, believe me."
"You've done this before?"
"Of course," Adam paused, "When I was coming out, I wrote a letter to every family member and friend. I never mailed any of them, but it helped when I sat down and talked with everyone. . . It prepared me. Granted, my letters were much easier to do, but it helped lessen the anxiety. It wasn't as overwhelming because it felt like I already told them." I nodded again, not really knowing what to say.
"Well, if writing helped you, it can definitely help me."
"Yeah. . ." Adam paused, "But. . .just out of curiousity, what exactly would you write in this letter?"
"I thought it was just for me," I smiled. He shrugged.
"I was just asking. . ."
"You were just being nosy," I corrected as he laughed, "But to answer your question, I don't really know. I guess I'll let the pen work it's magic."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It's ten o'clock and here I am, wide awake and sitting at my desk. A mini lamp is illuminating the blank sheet of loose leaf in front of me as my pen taps on it. I've staring at this shit for twenty minutes now and nothing is coming to me. I have a million thoughts in my head, but not a single word to express them. . .
What the fuck am I doing anyway? How is writing a letter to nobody going to help relieve me of any stress or pain? I need inspiration. . . I need motivation. . . I need a topic sentence. . . A subject. . . something. . .
Justin.
Why didn't I think of that before? He's the reason I'm feeling like this, so why not use him as my motivation?
Dear Justin,
See, there's something. . . Now what? I need another line. Dear Justin what?
Dear Justin,
I'm writing to you because
No, that sounds like a business letter. . .
Dear Justin,
I'm probably never going to send this out to you, but I just wanted tell you what's on my mind.
Hmm. . . that's pretty good. Honest and not business-like.
Dear Justin,
I'm probably never going to send this out to you, but I just wanted tell you what's on my mind. I don't really know the right words to say exactly what I've been feeling, but I'm going to try. I have to get this off my chest because I feel like I can't hold this in any longer. It's just too heavy to carry anymore.
I stopped writing. This is getting to be too much. I can just visualize Justin reading this and I'm panicking. What if this gets to him somehow? Maybe I should stop. . . Maybe not. It feels kinda good to be writing this. . . Like I'm actually doing something right.
Maybe I'll finish it. Read it. And set it on fire. That way, I can get it off my chest and nobody else will know. . . Yeah, that'll work.
So, where was I? Ah, yes. . .
Dear Justin,
I'm probably never going to send this out to you, but I just wanted tell you what's on my mind. I don't really know the right words to say exactly what I've been feeling, but I'm going to try. I have to get this off my chest because I feel like. . . I feel like I can't hold this in any longer. It's just too heavy to carry anymore.
To save myself some ink and you some reading time, I guess I might as well tell you that you're the reason behind all the chaos in my mind and in my heart. The reason why is as simple as it is complicated. . . I'm in love with you. Again.
At first, I was in denial. I didn't want to believe I was stupid enough to fall for the one person I knew I could never have, but I did. . .
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
A week. A whole week.
That's how long it took to get my letter done. It's three pages long and full of shit I'd never say outloud. . . Especially to Justin, who, by the way, hasn't called me since he said goodbye.
I haven't called him either, but I've been concentrating on the center so much. We've finally got the painting and furnishing done. We're waiting for the Apple computers to arrive before we do the finishing touches. . . Then we actually open our doors to the children of Philadelphia.
I called and told Tiffany and Allison about the center being so close to opening. I also told them about what happened between Justin and I and about the letter. Tiffany almost had a heart attack and Al was actually disappointed that I didn't kiss him.
'If you can't tell him how you're feeling, you should've shown him. . .'
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Easier said than done. But at least they applauded my letter. They even suggested that I'd send it out to him. I said no immediately, but the more and more I think about it, the more I feel like doing it. I mean, why not? He's been ignoring me, which can only mean he's really focusing on his future with Cameron and moving past our little situation. . . Plus, I'm all the way on the other side of country. I won't even have to deal with the awkwardness because I won't be around to sense it. . .
"Tell me you're going to send it," Tiffany squealed happily before I got a chance to say 'hello'.
"No," I smiled as I balanced the phone between my shoulder and ear, "Well. . . maybe."
"Oh, girl, you should," she encouraged, "Why not?"
"Because. . . I don't know."
"Exactly," she said, "You've got nothing holding you back. Beside, won't it feel good knowing that he finally knows. No more burden, no more secrets. . ."
"I know. . . but I don't know," I chuckled, "Do you really think it's a good idea?"
"Yes!" she answered quickly, "So does Al and Jare and Scott and mom and daddy and Al's ma and pa and Scott's mama-"
"Damn, you told all of them?" I rolled my eyes.
"No. . . but I did tell my mom. . ."
"Who told the universe by now," I mumbled.
"Oh, shut up," Tiff laughed, "You know you love her."
"Yeah, but she loves gossip more. . ."
"Just like me," she beamed proudly, "Anyway, don't change the subject."
"I wasn't," I argued, "Look, I might send it out."
"Yay!"
"I said 'might'," I reminded.
"I know, I know. . ."
"Do you really think it's a good idea?" I asked again, feeling my stomach knot up nervously.
"Yes," Tiffany answered, more calmly, "Lon, you should do it."
"I should," I agreed, "I mean. . . why not?"
"Thank you!" Tiffany laughed, "Oh, I'm gonna let you go now so it can be mailed. . ."
"Damn, Tiff, right now?"
"The time is now, Lonnie," Tiffany giggled, "Seriously, get your ass to the nearest mail box, pronto."
"Alright, alright," I relented, "I'll call you when I'm done."
"Okay," I could feel her smiling into the phone, "This is great."
"It is."
"Alright, bye."
"Bye. . ." I slowly hung up the phone and placed it back on it's charger. My eyes shifted over to my desk where the letter laid. I slowly walked over to it and picked it up. My hands shook nervously and I sighed.
This was it.
I grabbed cell phone and held the letter tightly before I exited my room. Some of my housemates were walking down the halls, coming up or down the stairs, sleeping with their doors open or blasting music from their stereos. It was noisy, to say the least, but I didn't hear a sound. The beating of my heart was resounding in my head and blocking out any other sound as I made my way downstairs. I squeezed past Alex and Jordon, who decided that they would talk in the middle of the steps.
I sighed, finally making it to the bottom. The hall stretched out before me and the door resided at the end of it. Slowly, I made my way down to it, trying to keep calm so I wouldn't lose my nerve.
"Just a few more steps, Lon. . ." I whispered to myself before I finally reached the door. My hand quickly unlocked the door before resting on the cool metal of the knob. I turned it and pulled the door open. I sucked in a sharp breath when a male figure stood before me.
"Didn't mean to scare you," Tom laughed lightly as I simply stepped aside and allowed him to come in. For a moment there, I thought he was Justin. I should've known better.
After I recovered from my heart attack, I made my way outside and down the long city block. At the corner, a blue mail box rested, waiting for my letter. I approached it and stared at it. I'm pretty sure I looked insane, watching a mail box instend of putting my letter into it, but I was debating whether or not I should really send this out. Once I put this in here, there's no turning back. He'll know that I love him and however he reacts to it will change our relationship forever. . . If we even have one after this. . .But I can't keep holding all these emotions inside. All that bottled up shit is what made me run away in the first place.
I have to do this.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
I walk back inside the house feeling somewhat liberated. I had actually let that letter slip out of my hands into that mail box. Justin was going to know all that I've been feeling by the end of this week and I was actually more excited than I was scared. Tiffany and Allison are going to be so happy once I tell them. I can already hear Tiff squealing into the phone. . .
"Alonsha!" I turned toward Keshon's voice and see her jogging over to me. She was my new mentor. A female version of Chris, I suppose. The poor thing was out of breath by the time she made it over to the door.
"What is it?" I asked curiously. I chuckled when she bent over and held herself up on her knees, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern.
"Where were you?" she asked after a moment, "I was running around here looking for you."
"I just took a walk up the block," I answered, "Why? Is everything okay?"
"Yes, everything's great, actually," Keshon said, "Especially for you." Her wide smile confused me as I smile back awkwardly.
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, come sit down." She walked ahead of me quickly, making it into the living room a few seconds before me. Surprisingly, it wasn't packed with my fellow counselors, so I got a spot right next to Keshon on the sofa.
"So what's up?" I asked curiously, "Why is everything great?"
"Well, I got a phone call from the center in LA," Keshon shifted in her seat to face me more, "And they gave me some news. . ."
"Great news, I assume."
"Fantastic news," she emphasized, "I was so estatic to get that call. I knew you were the exact person to choose."
"Choose for what?" I asked.
"The location switch," Keshon explained, "We're actually going to trade counselors. We'll get Ralph and you get to go back to the LA branch."
"What?" I asked in disbelief.
"I know!" she exclaimed, "Look, Ralph got divorced about a month ago."
"I know, he told me," I said.
"But he didn't say his ex-wife was going to move in next door," Keshon said, "Ralph said that he couldn't deal with her and that he would gladly switch places with you."
"Are you serious?" I smiled.
"Have I ever lied to you before?" she asked rhetorically, "I'm just sorry we moved you all the way out here just for you to go back home again."
"Don't be sorry," I assured, "I'm happy to go home, Keshon. I've been homesick and I can't wait to go. No offense to anyone here." Keshon laughed.
"Believe, none will be taken."
"Good, so when do I leave?"
"Actually, you can leave tomorrow if you want," Keshon informed me.
"Oh, well, I might as well get packing," I chuckled, "Thank you so much."
"Don't thank me, thank Ralph," Keshon said, "It was a pleasure having you here, Alonsha."
"It was a pleasure being here," I told her, shaking her hand.
"Okay, well, I'll let you go pack," she said, "I'm going to make flight arrangements."
"Thank you again," I said before she got up and walked out of the room. I stayed seated, grinning widely and squealing happily. . .
But then I remembered. I remembered what I had done. . .
My letter.
I sent it. I put it in the mail box and it's on its way to Justin's house. I told him that I loved him. He's going to read it. He's going to freak out and I'll be there to waitness it all. . .
Oh Lord. . .What have I done?
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