I’m sitting on the plane, staring at my phone, knowing my dad is expecting an update. He knew all about my plan coming out here to see Paige, but when it came time to do it, I chickened out.
I can’t do this anymore. It’s killing me only getting to see Paige for a week at a time here and there.
I’ve been losing focus with football, my practices getting increasingly worse. My coach sat me down and told me that if I was serious about football, I needed to get my head straightened out.
The plan was to come here, see her and break up with her in person – although that certainly wasn’t my original intention when I booked this trip – but I couldn’t do it. I saw her at the airport that first day and felt like the weight on my chest had been lifted for the first time since she left. My week with her was perfect, and I was feeling stronger than ever.
It wasn’t until she snuck out of my room early this morning before her parents woke up that the crushing sadness returned again. I was leaving. She was staying here. We’re fucking 17. How realistic is it to think we have a future together when we have to deal with long-distance for at least two more years?
I wanted to do the right thing by Paige and tell her before I left, face to face like she deserves, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t see her already hurting and intentionally make it worse.
I feel the burn behind my eyes and put the heel of my palm against my lids to keep it back. I love Paige more than anything, but this has been harder than I thought it would be. I can’t do it anymore.
My chest burns and constricts at the idea of never seeing Paige again. And to top it all off, I couldn’t even tell her I love her before I left, knowing that I had to break things off.
The truth is I’ll probably love Paige for the rest of my life – actually, scratch that, I will definitely love Paige for the rest of my life – but it doesn’t change our current circumstances.
My coach is right. I need to focus on football.
I land at PDX and fill my dad in on the trip. He keeps glancing at me with concern written all over his face. I can tell he wants to ask. I’ve confided in him a lot lately. He knows how much this whole situation has torn me up. He always liked Paige, but he can see how everything is wearing on me.
He finally asks, “How’d your talk go with Paige?”
“I couldn’t do it,” I mumble, looking out the window.
“Jack, you know I support you no matter what, right?”
“Yeah, dad, I know.”
“It kills me to see you like this, kid.”
“I know, dad. It’s killing me, too.”
As soon as we get home, I head straight to my room. I can’t wait any longer. It’s going to hurt no matter when I do it, but the longer I wait, the worse it’ll be. I know Paige could sense what was coming at the airport.
Me: I made it home safely.
Paige: I’m glad. I miss you already.
I take a deep breath. I don’t want to do this over a text, but I think it’ll literally break me if I have to hear her crying over the phone. I can’t stand to hear Paige cry, ever, but knowing that I’m the one causing it will gut me. So, I take the coward’s way out.
Me: Paige, I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I think we should break up.