Writing Prompt Wednesday #114

“If I had to choose between lonely and you, I would always choose loneliness. Anything is better than with you.” @meg.the.author on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CZJ2EP7LRgJ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

    “If I had to choose between lonely and you, I would always choose loneliness. Anything is better than with you.”
    I could tell with one look at Casey’s face that the words stung. I had a brief moment of feeling sorry, regretting my decision, before my resolve steeled. The words hurt. Good. I wanted them too.
    “Don’t say that…” she said softly, her eyes never leaving the ground. “I don’t even know what I did.”
    “You ruined my life,” I said. 
    “How? Please just tell me how.” Her eyes were watering as they were still frustratingly trained on her converse. I didn’t answer her. She’d be able to see through any lie I said in a second. “Ivy?”
    “You need to go.” I stood up taller, trying to keep my voice steady.
    “I will. After you tell me what I did wrong.” Casey’s voice didn’t waver, even as her tears dripped to the ground. It was almost frustrating how much resolve she had.
    “It will be better this way.”
    “For who?”
    “For both of us.”
    For the first time since the start of the conversation, her pale green eyes met mine. They were filled with so much pain, so much heartache. My chest clenched. “You’re lying to yourself if you think that.”
    “Hah.”
    “I’m not joking Ivy.” Casey crossed her arms as her tears still flowed down her face. “This may be better for you, but there’s no way in hell this’ll be better for me.”
    I scowled. Of course this wouldn’t be better for me. I wasn’t doing this for me. She needed to get away. She needed to be safe and sound and happy, and the best place for that would be far, far away from me. “You don’t know that.”
    “I know myself better than you do.” I sighed, leaning against the wall to my back. “Is this going to be better for you?”
    “Case—”
    “No.” She strode over to me, reaching her hands out. She hesitated for the briefest of moments before grabbing mine, as if she was afraid I was going to tug them away from her. She held my hands tight in hers. “I’ll go. I’ll grit my teeth and walk away and you won’t hear another sound out of me. But only if you can tell me—honestly tell me—that you’ll be better off without me.”
    I looked up at her, and all too quickly, tears were falling from my own eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
    “Yes it does.”
    “Case—”
    “We can figure anything else out,” Casey said, looking at me so earnestly that it broke my heart. “Please Ivy. Just answer me.”
    I looked at her. I almost keeled over at her eyes, those green eyes that I’d gazed into as I’d gone through so much. Always, throughout all of it, she’d been by my side. My cheerleader, my soldier, my biggest fan.
    Didn’t she deserve a chance to live her own life?”
    “Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be better off without you. I’m not happy here. Now go.”
    A million expressions passed over her face. Shock, heartbreak, and then the steely mask that I had grown so accustomed to never seeing again. “You’ve got it.” She turned on her heel.
    It took every morsel of self control that I had to not call out to her. To not run to her, grab her, beg for forgiveness. Tell her that I needed her, that I didn’t mean any of it. She didn’t need me. She didn’t need my baggage. She could go and be happy now. That’s what made all of this worth it. That’s what kept my feet planted to the ground.
    Instead, I just watched her walk away.