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Goodbye, Bonnie

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

“No, you just make room for it.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and laughed. The nerve Bonnie had to ask me that. Right when I thought the pieces of my life were slowly getting put back together is when she decides to embody the essence of a tornado and pop up out of nowhere. Bonnie was the flame, I was the match she burned, and we went out too soon.

“Wow, that’s so Tumblr of you to say. I guess my spot on your ‘Worst Ex-Girlfriends’ list has been demoted to number two. I had a feeling Erica would be me somehow!” Bonnie punched my arm playfully, but I didn’t find it funny.

Maybe she thought my laugh earlier was serious, that I had completely forgotten the feeling of her breaking up with me on my 16th birthday. Maybe she thought I was over our relationship, that I had completely forgotten the feeling of love I felt for her. Maybe she thought this was all a sick joke I was playing on her as an act of revenge.

“Erica didn’t just leave me out of nowhere, but she also left her son, Mason. But no, feel great that you’re still top two on ‘my list.’” I grabbed my folders off of the shelf and shoved them into my bag. They messily stuck out, as I brushed past Bonnie and out of the door. She ran behind me and tapped my shoulder.

“Everest, I’m sorry, I really am. My humor can be misplaced sometimes.” Erica fidgeted with her hands. “I came back here because I wanted to help.” Cars flew past the two of us, as we stood on the edge of the sidewalk. Horns blared, and the streetlights’ sequence matched the beat of my heart.

“So you came all the way over here to play house? How’s that gonna work? Are you gonna stay home, while I work six days a week, barely living off of minimum wage and tips?” I questioned.

Silence engulfed Bonnie. I guess I had her stumped.

“We can make it all work out, I don’t want to leave you like this!”

A car pulled up next to me to reveal my younger brother, Eddie. He rolled the window down, his smile fell.

“Hey, Everest! I wanted to surprise you after work, but I see you’re a bit busy…” he said.

“No, I’m not. Unlock the door.”

The locks clicked, and I climbed into the passenger seat, putting my bag in the back.

“Goodbye, Bonnie.” I rolled the window up, as my brother pulled off.

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Daryl is a 19-year-old filmmaker, journalist, and photography enthusiast. He also writes for the University of Maryland's The Diamondback and The Campus Trainer.

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