Oh, logical, logical. Love is never logical. I know I'm half responsible. And that makes me feel horrible.

Oh, logical, logical. Love is never logical. I know I could've stopped it all. God, why didn't I stop it all?

— Logical  by Olivia Rodrigo

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Theo 

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It is truly perplexing how you can have a routine so ingrained into your brain, your body, and being for so long — for years even — and yet something can come along so suddenly for which it is swiftly abandoned without any objection or awareness. 

I've learnt that this is the case with Ella Adams. 

It has been one week since I have seen Ella and in this week I have tried to return to that same routine I had relied on for years. Wake up, shower, go to work, run, shower, eat, sleep.  Every day. The routine is down pat. 

But it all feels completely unnatural now because there is no longer the one string that ties it all together; the one piece every facet of me has grown so accustomed to. I no longer have messages that come from her every couple of hours breaking apart the banality of the day. Nor do I have the activities that I needed to plan to achieve my endless mission to have that timid grin of hers appear. Nor do I have the hours that trickle away effortlessly on the couch talking to each other menially or in the confines of our bedrooms.

Yet, when I find myself lingering on these thoughts I also dredge up those which had landed me here. The frustration, the utter disappointment, the exhaustion. I can't shake those words out my damn head — "no capability", "test run". 

Part of me is shouting in my head well why should you expect her to have thought better about you when you don't even think that way about yourself?  I can't deny that there have been times when I've questioned whether I am capable of commitment or if I could ever convince myself to consider it. 

But one of the main reasons that led to me feeling this way — this reluctance to let someone in and keep them there — has just been proven right. People hurt you, people leave. Sometimes they even creep into your body and soul, and you might feel as though they are a medicine spreading through your veins healing you meanwhile they are also tearing down your immunity and leaving you weak. 

I still can't quite comprehend just how differently things could be right now if I hadn't had read that email; if I hadn't had opened the damn app to it sitting there in my inbox. I had been preparing to meet up with her later that evening to talk about us and to say that I wanted us to be more— to be in a relationship, to say that she was the only girl in my life and I wanted to be the only one guy in hers, to confess that I'd never felt this way before and that I didn't want it to end. I had given us some time — for her to talk with Lexi and for me to emotionally prepare myself for this massive step. Yet, I found myself opening the email with the article attached that I had asked for from her boss and instead was feeling nothing like that hopeless fool that had only moments earlier had his heart opened. 

I had asked her boss to email me the article when it was being published. I had told Monique that I was her close friend and that I wanted to celebrate Ella's achievement by framing the article or something. I received the email shortly after I had arrived home that day with the explanation that there'd been a last minute change and that the article would be published that day. Either Ella had not known as she was caught up in everything that had happened in the last day or she unsurprisingly had no clue that I would know about the article, because I could see it all over her face that day that she had no expectation of me reading those words ever. 

Yet here I was as the collateral of her prose, slumped into my couch and legs stretching out to atop my coffee table as I flick through TV channels, a fragile vessel both ravaged by the so called medicine that was Ella but also craving it with every fibre of my being. 

When my apartment buzzer chimes through the room I don't notice it at first, completely inattentive to the world and thoughtlessly watching whatever sitcom was playing. Having no work today with it being a Sunday, I had quickly completed all my necessary tasks for the day and these were my thrilling plans. 

When the second chime of the buzzer rings out, there is an advertisement on the screen on so I realise that this sound is in fact coming from reality. But just because I know that it is real does not mean that I care enough to do anything about it. I ignore it, not in the mood to get up or to deal with the human race, just wanting to be alone. 

My roommate Dev will be back from his trip in a few weeks and I certainly won't have it then, especially as his fiancé Yasmin moves in with us. Don't get me wrong— I miss those two clowns but I really can't be bothered to socialise right now or to garner the energy to reciprocate theirs. 

Despite my wishes the buzzer sound . . . just . . . keeps . . . going. It forms a melody as the culprit obviously makes it their mission to frustrate me, though I can't quite pin point what song they are trying to replicate or if they've just made up their own tune. 

Desperate for some peace, even if it is only temporary, I decide to respond. Devastatingly slowly, I pull myself upon from where I had sunken into the couch cushions to make my way over and slam my finger down on the intercom. I begrudgingly say "Yes?" and await a response. 

"Theo, it's me Jess. Can you please let me up? We need to talk."

Jess? Well, I wasn't expecting that. 

How does she even have my address? Surely she would have gotten it from Ella and does that mean maybe she's here on her bidding? No, that doesn't sound like Ella, especially after watching the faith in me vanish so rapidly behind her eyes as she walked out of my apartment. 

I guess how she got her doesn't really matter. What matters more is why she is even here? Because I don't see any point in her visit. 

"No offence Jess but I really don't feel like socialising right now and I don't think there's much for us to talk about," I tell her, getting straight to the point. 

"Oh my god, can you just suck it up and let me in already. I'm not going to go away so you might as well just do it before I annoy you more with this damn buzzer."

Jesus, she is persistent — Ella wasn't lying. 

Not wanting to hear a repeat of her composition, I press the button to allow her into the building; making sure to take my finger off of the intercom before I exhale deeply. I do not have the energy for this. There is a reason I had been avoiding talking to anyone, especially Dev. I don't want to discuss what happened with Ella. I don't want to keep dragging it out. I just want to close the door on this all. 

It was like there was an array of clutter littering my apartment that I needed to clean up so I've just thrown it into a cupboard and locked the door even if it is pushing with all of its might to open and spill out all over the floor. Well, this mess just wasn't giving up but I so desperately wanted it out of sight and out of mind. 

Before I know it, having been stuck in my mind thinking, there is a knock on my door and I am opening it up to a very determined looking Jess. Her hair is slicked back, posture straight and poised, expression unreadable. 

Then there was me. Hair unwashed, greasy and chaotically curling across my forehead. Clad in a grey hoodie and track pants stained with the sauce from the burger I had earlier. Shoulders slumped with no trace of energy apparent on my face. 

"Hi Jess."

"Hi Theo," she says, taking a second to nod in my direction before she is strutting past me into the apartment. 

"No, of course, come on in," I remark, gesturing to the space with my hand in feigned enthusiasm.

"Why, thank you Theo." She smiles, cheeks up to her eyes in smug pride. 

"Does Ella know that you are here?"

"No, she's too busy walking around like a stubborn and miserable zombie just like you."

I'm not really sure how I feel about knowing this. Part of me wants her to be feeling just as horrible about all of this so that she feels the consequences of her words, whilst the other can't bear the thought of her feeling down after persisting for so long to do anything to make a grin appear on her face deservedly. 

Honestly, I had also considered whether she was maybe doing fine — she had walked out of this apartment with that same assertiveness that Jess had strut in with today that suggested an utmost confidence in her decision. Perhaps she was satisfied that I had inadvertently proven her right by stepping away from things before they got too serious, even if it meant disregarding her contribution in getting us to that point. It seems like something Ella could do since she was so clearly reluctant to rely on anyone else for anything as she was so used to acclimatised to being the one who everyone relied on. 

"You know, we can both save a whole lot of time by me pointing out that there's nothing that can be done here. There's been too much damage done and it's just better to leave things be," I argue, the constant swirl of thoughts in my mind at any mention of Ella evidence of this. 

"Yeah, yeah. Can you please just sit down and listen?" she directs me, taking a seat on my couch and pointing to the armchair across from her as if this isn't my apartment. 

I scoff, knowing better after hearing many a story from Ella than to challenge Jess. I follow her directions and seat myself, waiting for what is increasingly appearing like an interrogation to proceed. 

"Okay, if you want to talk — did you read the article?" I ask, shifting the inquiries in her direction to begin with. I am curious if she has the full story or if I can prove that this discussion is pointless since she is so adamant that we will have it. 

"I did." She nods resolutely. 

"So, after reading it what information am I missing that should make me reconsider this situation?" I lean forward, elbows in my news in anticipation for something because I know that Jess won't back down easily. 

"I'm here because I think you're both making a mistake and giving up on something that you are going to devastatingly regret. At the very least, I think you both deserve and need better closure and clarity," she explains, not really providing anything that has my ears perking up. 

She can obviously sense this as she immediately launches into her argument. 

"Look, I'm not here to make excuses for her behaviour, but I can pinpoint exactly what would have been going on in her mind writing that article. She would have been suppressing her feelings for you by that point, whether it be because of your history with Lexi or because she was scared of getting hurt, and you did exactly what had stopped her from putting down her walls— abandoned her. You had a good thing going and you had disappeared on her at that point in time like her mother did to her. So she probably wrote that article to make light of the situation or even put herself down for what she felt like at the time was missing obvious signs, but inadvertently putting you down too."

"But–"

Holding a finger up in my direction she instructs me, "Let me finish." I'm caught speechless like a child in detention as I nod along in reluctant obedience. 

"Now I'm not saying that it gives her the right to walk through adulthood playing the victim card and acting out on preconceptions, but I just think that maybe she needs the chance for someone to prove her wrong and for something to learn from. Maybe you could both learn from one another because, I mean this in the nicest way possible, I think you know a thing or two about family trauma from what I understand."

"What's that supposed to mean? I question, eyebrows raised as I am taken aback at this claim of knowing me so personally.

"I mean, you clearly have daddy issues and constantly feel the need to prove yourself. Plus, you were devastated by the loss of your mother so you don't want to let people in because of the fear that you'll lose them again. So you don't let them get close or share your feelings."

I admit defeat, sinking back into my chair and relaxing my position, because she's not entirely wrong and she's left me dumbfounded at her accuracy. 

"God, how do you know this much about me? And do you work in psych or something?"

She chuckles.

"Nope, I'm just your standard run-of-the-mill ER nurse but you'd be amazed by how many strangers tell their nurse all of their life problems and ask for advice," she explains. "Also, as if you haven't been running off to tell your best friend everything about Ella."

She's right. Dev has heard just about everything — from the frustration to the intrigue to the obsession with every aspect of Ella. Yet, I haven't told him a thing about what has happened in the last week. As far as he's concerned, he'll be getting back in a week to a very much smitten Theo sneaking Ella through the apartment door and off to my bedroom. If I confessed that to expert Jess right now she'd probably say that I've done that for a reason, that I don't want to hear the truth from my best friend right now because he'll say what she's saying right now — that both Ella and I have had our faults in this situation but these are worth battling through. 

But I'm too scarred to want to take that risk anymore; my skin too fragile to bear any more cuts.  

"How am I supposed to continue on and pretend like she hasn't said all those things about me; like she hasn't admitted to thinking all the worst things I think about myself? How can I consider the idea of taking the next step with her when that thought is now tainted by the memory of that day and reading those words?" I rebut, feeling comfortable now with Jess after she so easily analysed me that I am rambling to her as though she is my therapist. 

"Because they're not contingent on one another. You need to disassociate these two things from one another and I know that's easier said than done but it's true — what you wanted and felt for each other that day is separate to what you both did weeks before when neither of you had no idea what the other was feeling and had acted out in defence. The things that made you feel the way you did that day — that you wanted to commit to one another and that you cared about one another — all remain true. Love is meant to be when you love someone despite of their flaws, right? So take that plunge— love each other despite whatever one another did. Feel those same things you did a week ago despite the mess that got in the way."

Sensing my hesitation, she continues her side of the debate while I formulate all my arguments in my head. 

"Look, Ella has walls up higher than the Empire State and I can't really blame her. You've probably noticed by now, and if you haven't then you're oblivious, but Ella offers her heart up and would do anything for the people she loves. So, if you're one of the few that gets to feel that love you better not take it for granted. But, unfortunately, she's let in a few people that haven't treated her right and have taken advantage of her so the chances of her opening up get smaller and smaller. God, I even felt how difficult it was to get her to put down her shield at one point when we first became friends but it was worth it in the end." 

"Now, I'm not justifying any actions that might have made you feel like crap, but ghosting her after you slept together? That's low. And if I didn't know you better by now and also know how happy you've been making her I would have told her to drop you and forget all about you," she points out and I try to conceal my wince at what I can admit now looked like incredibly sleazy behaviour from me. 

"But you do make her happy, and from what I can tell you are a good guy, at least usually. So what the fuck are you waiting for? You both have things to learn, but why not appreciate and acknowledge one another's strengths and weaknesses and learn together? Especially if you're happy together for the most part while doing so."

She's raised a multitude of questions that require deep consideration and so I am rendered speechless as I take them all in; the answer to them all resting solely on my shoulders at this point as I remain oblivious to what Ella is thinking or wanting. 

"All I'm asking you to do is think it over and talk with Ella. I feel like humans really undervalue how much simpler things could be if we just talked things out and communicated openly. "Do you think you could do that?"

I take a moment to consider her suggestion before I cautiously nod, feeling like a guilty schoolchild who had been rightfully chastised by his teacher. 

"I'm glad." She smiles, but not the in the smug way she has been doing since arriving her but in a calming way of acknowledgement as she is pleased with her work. 

I don't allow myself much time to contemplate the magnitude of what I had just agreed to, knowing that this would overwhelm me. I had agreed to open up my cupboard of mess and I knew that things would come spilling out everyone with no way to prepare me for how they might hit at me.   

"So, how'd you even get your hands on my address because I know Ella wouldn't have handed it over?" I ask, eager to steer my thoughts away to something different for the moment. 

She chuckles before she reveals her source. "I actually got it from Lexi."

"Lexi?" I'm shocked at the revelation having been informed of the complexities of Jess and Lexi's relationship from Ella in the midst of a rant about her role of Switzerland between the two of them. "It's my understanding that you two don't usually team up."

"Oh, it's your understanding is it?" she teases. 

"Hey, Ella doesn't just talk to you about things." I point out, playing her card on her. 

"Well, then I'm sure Ella has also told you that I'm very persuasive and that I'd also do anything for her."

"She did." I nod in both acknowledgement and appreciation, grateful that Ella has someone like Jess looking out for her. She was right earlier— that is, Ella does assume the responsibility of being the shoulder to lean on for everybody in her life whilst neglecting the fact that even she needs someone to fall back on sometimes. I had evidently failed at being this but I was comforted by the fact that at least she had Jess. 

"Well, as much as I'd love to sit here all day and talk about how great I am, I better be heading off and leave you to think about some things anyway," she announces, lifting herself off the couch and signalling that class was out of session. 

I follow along as she makes her way to the door, making as swift of an exit as she did an entrance. As she walks through the doorway, I know that I need to show my appreciation to her for pulling me out of my deep