My body aches all over, but it’s not the good kind. It’s like I’ve been mentally and physically beat up. I feel like I could curl up in the fetal position and stay this way for days. Just hide under the covers and lock the world out.

It’s hard to believe that over a short week he could unravel me like this. My body and emotions are trapped like a prison and I can’t break free from it. For years, I kept myself guarded and locked, but within a few days he broke in and stole everything.

Now I’m here, all alone, contemplating what to do next. Hell, who am I kidding? I’m just trying to get up and move. Life was easier without him complicating it. I had a routine, a goal and a plan. Now it’s all gone to shit.

The picture in the paper was one thing, but then what happened at the game was another. The newspaper I could handle. I prepared myself to talk about it. We had to if we wanted to keep moving forward.

Jack has a past, a checkered one. I always knew that about him. In fact, it’s what tore us to shreds. I’m not even sure he realizes how badly. I made up my mind on the ride to see him today that I would tell him everything. Come clean about my hurts and wipe the slate for us.

I rehearsed it in my head, which totally sucked. It brought back a crap memory that I worked hard to forget. It made my stomach hurt recalling each detail, however, it had to be done. Committing myself fully with that hanging in the balance isn’t possible. I never told him the whole truth about that day and he needs to hear it. It’s the right thing to do if we have a chance.

When you open your heart and let love in, there should be enough power there to heal you. At least that’s what I was hoping. Then I saw her and him, and every sane and rational thought got kicked to the curb.

So here I am, knees tucked into my chest, blanket over my head, and rocking like a baby. It’s like every heartbroken love story I’ve read, except they end happily. This ending sucks ass and needs a rewrite.

The same question keeps running through my brain. “Why me and why now?” Why is a tiny word with only three letters but it’s anything but small. It’s never easily answered because we are typically not satisfied with the results. Quite simply, we always keep asking why.

It also feels whiny, too. But when else can a girl be whiny? This is a perfect excuse to be miserable, eat ice cream, and binge watch the Hallmark movie channel. I’ve done break ups before and helped with Sam and Ben’s heartbreaking pasts, but I’ve done an excellent job keeping myself away from it.

Not this time. No, this time I’m full on in it.

I hear a light tap on the door followed by Sam’s soft voice. I know she’s worried about me. I basically abandoned her at the car to flee to my room. She’s been great giving me space but I knew she would check in. I was hoping for more time to wallow but that’s not going to happen.

“Come in.” My voice is cracking and barely above a whisper. It completely matches my mood. The door creaks slightly as she enters. I force my head out from under the covers in a futile attempt to show interest.

“Hey, there, Jenny girl, are you ok?” Sam’s hand touches my covered feet at the end of the bed before sitting.

“To be honest with you, I’ve been better.” I rub my eyes to try and stop any tears from falling. If one escapes, then they will all fall and I can’t let myself cry. At least, not yet.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? You seemed fine this morning.”

I know Sam is being my friend right now but I really don’t want to talk about it. I’m not ready to. I would rather loathe in self-pity for a little while longer. “I was fine earlier today but then I started to feel sick. You know how my stomach gets when I’m anxious.” Lifting my body out from the under the covers makes me feel like I could throw up. My hands cover my belly in a lame attempt to help.

Sam moves up the bed getting closer to me. It’s a sweet gesture but my body is craving space right now. “So what made you upset? You can talk to me. We help each other. This is what we do. We are each other’s rock.”

My eyes try to lock in with hers but they quickly turn. It’s better for me to not look when I talk. “I’m just worried about Ben. I want him to be happy and I think that begins with you.” It’s a lie, well not a complete one, it’s a partial truth. I truly want them together but it’s a perfect deflection right now. I’m not sure if she’s totally buying it but she doesn’t push.

“Jenny, leave it be. Let's just see what happens. We are taking things slow. We both have a lot of hurt that needs to heal first.” She grabs my hand and holds it. “I don’t think you’re telling me everything, but I’m going to let this go for now. We will talk.” Sam gets up and heads to the door but before she exits, she adds, “and soon.”

She’s right. I’m not telling the truth. Heck, I’m not even facing it. I turned into a coward instead of handling this shit dead on. I can’t seem to follow my own advice. My big girl panties need to be pulled up.

Getting off the bed, I try my best to shake the image of Jack and his whore. Technically I don’t know if she’s a whore, but it makes me feel better calling her one. Looking in the mirror I note how hellish I look. Grabbing my Red Sox hat, I throw it on and look for my keys.

As far as this is concerned, I can react two ways. Number one, I shut Jack down and get on with my life. I’ve done it before and I can do it again. It won’t be easy, especially after admitting our love for each other. Oh, and the incredible, hot sex. But I digress.

Number two, I can drive to the city and talk to him. This option kills me the most because what comes out of his mouth can either make us or break us. Hearing the truth can be worse than pretending. If he doesn’t want to be with me, it will hurt worse than just letting him go.

Both options suck because the end result is the same. But then there is that other little voice inside my head. The one that makes you think…maybe…the one that you rest your hopes on. It’s a quiet whisper but I can’t ignore it. Maybe it wasn’t what I thought. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe you should chill the fuck out.

That’s the one I’m listening to as I grab my things and head out the door. In the end, this has to be resolved. I could continue to lie here and avoid, but what good would that do me? I would keep asking that why question. It’s time to get my answer and figure this mess out. Being broken is not an option but sometimes we have to break a little before we can heal the cracks.