Your Mess Is Mine

The cool, fall air whipped strands of hair around my face as the Staten Island Ferry cruised past the tiny island which housed Lady Liberty. As many times as I’d been to New York, I’d never been this close to the Statue of Liberty and couldn’t help but to be intimidated by her imposing presence. The frosty air burned my lungs as I tucked my hair behind my ear and contemplated my small but important role in this overwhelming thing called life and questioned just what exactly my intentions were being here with John.

Later that afternoon I seized my alone time to tour Manhattan in the way that I had never been able to before. I visited the Museum of Modern Art, strolled around Central Park, and actually took in the Time Square lights. Yet, just as I reached the Guggenheim, the flood gates opened. Across the street sat a bench I had been on not long ago...

THREE YEARS AGO

Jack and I paced our way down a dirt path in Central Park. Small raindrops began to trickle down on us when he turned to me with a look in his eye that I knew I would never forget - This was it, this was our forever and it was going to be so, so beautiful.

In that instant, the sky opened up and rain came rushing down on us. Jack grabbed my hand and bolted towards the street. He attempted to hail a cab but by that time they had all been snatched up. I stuck my arm out to help but we both knew getting a cab in the city while it was raining was impossible. Already drenched, we looked at each other and laughed. He snatched me up by the waist and carried me to a nearby bench. He laid me back into a somewhat upright position and then hovered over me, planting a fiery kiss on my lips. He pulled away, water dripping from the strands of hair dangling in his face, and smirked with the knowledge that this was, indeed, our forever.

PRESENT DAY

I arrived back at the venue when I head John’s voice call behind me, “Where have you been, sneaky?”

I turned seeing the line already was forming at the front, “Not sneaking, just sightseeing.”

He wrapped his arms around me, “See everything you wanted to?”

I wiggled from his grasp noticing a few fans watching, “Uh mostly... Just missed the Empire State Building.”

He looked between me and the fans and unwillingly composed himself, “After the show then?”

I half heartedly smiled, “Yeah, sounds good.”

He nodded and disappeared into the venue.

That night I stood side stage as The Maine poured their souls out to the crowd. Now removed from the industry, it was once again clear as day why I had gotten into the business - music had of way of making emotions pure when real life had them muddled.
I had forgotten what it looked like to see people love so unconditionally and be loved in return. This was real life, what we all lived for and hoped to find. What was right in front of my face.

John traipsed off stage, sweaty and catching his breath, when I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his salty shoulder. He scooped my legs up around his waist and shuffled into an empty dressing room. He plopped me down on the counter and went to work on my buttons. I did the same, swiftly unzipping his snug jeans. Adrenaline still pumping from the show, he was rougher than normal, pulling my hair back to expose my neck as he sucked and placed bites down to my chest. I let out a sharp gasp as he grabbed handfuls of my ass and shoved his way into me. My head rocked against the mirror as he rhythmically thrusted into me. A moan escaped me, causing John to place his hand over my mouth, knowing the crew would be roaming the hallways. I crumbled beneath him, as he collapsed onto my chest, letting my final gasp out into his palm. His hand slid away from me, leaving a salty taste on my lips as we panted for air.

I laid my head on John’s shoulder as our cab whipped through the city streets. Lights whizzed past as us the Empire State Building came into view. He looked down at me and smiled as I beamed with excitement.

We took the several elevators to the top when I took John’s hand and hurriedly pulled him out to the observation deck. John wrapped his arms around my waist from behind as we took in the stunning panoramic view of the Manhattan lights. We stood in silence for several moments before John rested his head on my shoulder and whispered into my ear, “Marry me.”

I smiled and shook my head, “No”

He pressed his face against mine, laughing, “Marry me!”

I laughed and shook my head, “No!”

He picked me up and spun me around, “Marry me, Annabelle!”

He put me down as I placed my hand on his face and shook my head, “No”

He kissed my forehead and spun me back around to the view, hugging my waist once again.

John slept on the plane ride home while I remained restless. I stared out the window flipping through my music, replaying the strange events of the previous night in my head. Had John actually meant to propose to me or was he just being impulsive? I began to imagine myself in the same scenario with Jack but shut the thought out before I confused myself any more.

Back in Grayson, our cab came to a stop between our two houses. John and I exchanged a hug and went our separate ways. Inside, I threw my bags down on my bedroom floor and noticed my closet door slightly ajar. I slid it open to see a box nestled between my piles of shoes. I lugged it onto my bed and lifted the lid to find everything I thought I had thrown away the day I arrived - Pictures of Jack and I, scraps and memorabilia of our entire relationship. I hesitantly sorted through it - a snapshot of us in our first apartment in LA, an All Time Low ticket stub, a playbill, and delicately folded at the bottom, a tiny t-shirt. I threw my hand over my mouth, willing back the waterfall of tears, yet letting a few fall despite myself. There buried amongst nearly every memory Jack and I had ever made was the most important of all.

I folded the t-shirt back up and placed it on top of the pile. I slid my phone open and scrolled to Jack’s contact, the happy picture of the two of us still sitting next to his number. The phone rang only a few times before he answered, “Hello?”

“Want to come over?”

15 minutes later Jack’s rental car rolled to a stop in front of my house. I waited for him on my porch step where he took a seat next to me, “How are you?”

“I’m good I think... Surprised you’re still here.”

“You told me not to leave.”

I smiled, “I did.”

“I found a box in my closet... Of, um, all our old stuff. I think my dad put it there.”

“He always did like me,” we both chuckled.

“Jack... I want to give us another chance. I’m not saying we should get back together. I just... Want to be fair. We used to be really happy... for a really long time,” I shrugged, “Maybe we can again.”

He smiled and nodded his head, “I think we can.”

Notes