“I’m sorry,” I said into the silence. No two words had ever been truer. Or so completely inadequate. “Please know that. I…I love you, Maggie. Always,” I said in a rush of desperation. I needed to say it. Needed her to hear it. If only one more time.

I could hear Maggie sigh. “I know you do, Clay. But that stopped being enough three months ago.” Fuck, that hurt. And there went my heart breaking all over again

“Yeah, I get that,” was all I could say. I couldn’t argue with her. She was right. Love had never been our problem. No, the issues rested entirely on my shoulders. So we sat there, listening to each other breathe for another few minutes as though we were both afraid to sever whatever tenuous connection we had in that moment.

“I’ve got to go, Clay,” Maggie finally said. I rubbed my fist over my heart, feeling the constant dull ache kick up a notch into an almost unbearable pain. The finality of her words couldn’t be any clearer.

“Okay,” I replied, biting my tongue on the millions of other things I wanted to say. Because I knew it was useless. “Well, I’ll…um…well, take care,” I stuttered.

“Thanks. And, Clay?” Maggie said quickly before I could hang up. “Happy Birthday,” she whispered and then I heard the click indicating she had hung up.

“Thanks,” I muttered to no one in particular before hitting the end button on the telephone. I gripped the phone in my hand and had to suppress the urge to smash it against the wall. But I loosened my hold and dropped it on the table. I leaned back on the couch and covered my face with my hands.

Well that went way worse than I pictured it in my head. Yeah, I can admit that I had clung to the delusion that Maggie would want to talk to me. That she would be over the moon to hear from me. What a f**king joke.

Sitting up, I pushed a pile of papers on the table, watching them flutter to the floor. Then I noticed the pair of scissors that had been underneath. Picking them up, I pressed the tip of my finger to the sharp edge and winced at the sudden slice of pain. And just like every other time before, I felt like I was in a tunnel and all I could focus on was the physical sensation of the slice. Anything to take away the pain inside. If I could focus on the other, the heartbreak wouldn’t feel so bad.

I pushed my finger onto the blade of the scissors until I saw a bright blot of crimson come to the surface of my skin. It was fascinating; the way the blood rushed out and dripped down my knuckle. So I pushed a little harder and started to slide the scissors down the length of my finger. All the way to my palm. A straight line of perfect red. Pain, real and constant flooded through me and for that brief time, it brought relief.

“What the hell are you doing?” a voice called from the door way and I dropped the scissors onto the table. I pulled a tissue from the box and deftly wrapped it around my finger, pressing into the cut, trying not to enjoy the bite I felt at the contact.

Maria was frowning, her arms crossed over her chest. She was staring pointedly at my hand, which I hastily shoved into the pocket of my jeans as I stood up. Now that my moment of weakness was over, I felt the shame and guilt that always accompanied my cutting. I felt my complete failure for giving into the urge.

“Maria. Hey. I just called Lisa…” I started, proud of how steady my voice sounded but my friend cut me off.

“Cut the bullshit, Clay. If you were talking to Lisa, then I just got off the phone with the Pope. I’m not stupid.” She glared at me. I walked over to her and nudged her playfully with my shoulder.

“It’s all good,” I said as convincingly as possible. Maria rolled her eyes, in a way that was entirely too reminiscent of Maggie. I swallowed hard and clenched the hand in my pocket until my hurt finger started to throb again. Once I felt the pain, I felt the tightness in my chest ease up a bit.

This was so screwed up. Maggie used to be the one that kept me from cutting, now she was the very thing hurtling me toward it. I wanted to pull my hair and scream. I was so beyond sick of being this f**ked up guy!

Maria must have recognized my deadened expression because she didn’t push me to explain what had happened. That was the cool thing about her, she had enough of her own darkness to know when to leave me alone with mine.

“Come on, let’s go watch the rest of the movie. Nothin’ like a little Will Ferrell to make things all better.” Maria wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me in the direction of the common room. I wasn’t really up for company right now, but I let Maria pull me along anyway.

And the truth was I was sick and tired of living this f**ked up drama I called a life. Watching some stupid comedy may be just the thing I needed. The thing to stop me from obsessing about Maggie May Young for the rest of the night. Because god knows that would only mean more cutting and more shame.

I had been doing so f**king well. Just when I thought I had turned a corner, I hit the wall at a hundred miles per hour. Enough of this shit! I forcibly put Maggie out of my mind, convincing myself that it was high time I moved on. Isn’t that what I wanted for her? To have a normal life full of normal relationships? Something that made her happy?

Well it was time I started wanting the good stuff for myself as well. And while I would never give up on my love for the girl in Davidson, Virginia; I had to try and learn to live my life without her in it. Because tonight’s conversation made it very clear that a life together wasn’t in the cards. Particularly while I was still far from being the person I wanted to be.

That phone call had been the ultimate test. And I had failed big time. There would be no do over. This was it. I had been obsessing since leaving Virginia about talking to Maggie again. How would she react? How would I react? Well, I had my answer. And if it wasn’t the one I wanted, it was the one I was stuck with.