How A Heart Breaks-Chapter Twenty Five
Title: How A Heart Breaks
Rating: PG-NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened.
Summary: They met, they fell in love, they learned to know better.
The days slipped by, grains of sand through a child’s fingers. I kept pretending to myself every day when I woke up that today it wouldn’t hurt. It had to be true eventually, didn’t it? Nothing can hurt forever.
I felt like I was drowning. Worse yet, I was drowning in the middle of an audience that had gathered specifically to watch that event. Everyone was watching me flail and struggle through my day.
And yet no one reached out to help me. No one threw me a line and tried to save me. No one, of course, except my Lily.
Lily was my salvation. Just when I was about to be pulled under the current, just when things were going black, and I could feel the air growing stale in my chest, he was there. He grasped me up and pulled me back to the surface, even if it was just for one breath of fresh air.
It was in the way he caught my eye as we passed in the hall. It was in the way he sat next to me at lunch, pressing his knee against mine. It was in the way he stood behind me, bending his head next to mine, his dreadlocks tickling my face.
These were the little ways he kept me alive. These were the little things he did to remind me that I wasn’t as alone as I thought. These were the little things that happened to let me know I didn’t have to let the pain swallow me alive, to let me know that I didn’t have to drown.
Of course, some small part of me knew that Lily couldn’t save me. He couldn’t save me no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted it. I simply didn’t belong to him. I wasn’t his to save.
The weeks wore away, ocean waves pounding on the shore. I couldn’t tell if I was being pushing closer to that shore, closer to something I could hold onto, something I could use to pull myself out of the water, or if I was being pulled farther and farther away from it, farther away from anything that could save me.
And there was a part of me that didn’t want to be saved. There was a part of me that couldn’t, wouldn’t let go of Bam. Couldn’t walk away from him. Part of me that knew as long as I was hurting, then I hadn’t let go of him. As long as I was hurting, I was still clinging to him, and then maybe there was a chance that he would take pity on me.
I knew then, as I know now and have always know, that Bam was what was pulling me down. If I could have let go of Bam, I could have kicked to the surface of my own will. I could have gotten to the shore; I could have pulled myself out. He was tied to my ankles, pulling me, yanking me, torturing me.
There was torture in every time he turned his head away from me, torture in every hesitating footstep, every time I felt his eyes burning into the back of my neck, every hiss I felt more than heard coming from his mouth.
It was Hell. I was in Hell.
Rating: PG-NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened.
Summary: They met, they fell in love, they learned to know better.
The days slipped by, grains of sand through a child’s fingers. I kept pretending to myself every day when I woke up that today it wouldn’t hurt. It had to be true eventually, didn’t it? Nothing can hurt forever.
I felt like I was drowning. Worse yet, I was drowning in the middle of an audience that had gathered specifically to watch that event. Everyone was watching me flail and struggle through my day.
And yet no one reached out to help me. No one threw me a line and tried to save me. No one, of course, except my Lily.
Lily was my salvation. Just when I was about to be pulled under the current, just when things were going black, and I could feel the air growing stale in my chest, he was there. He grasped me up and pulled me back to the surface, even if it was just for one breath of fresh air.
It was in the way he caught my eye as we passed in the hall. It was in the way he sat next to me at lunch, pressing his knee against mine. It was in the way he stood behind me, bending his head next to mine, his dreadlocks tickling my face.
These were the little ways he kept me alive. These were the little things he did to remind me that I wasn’t as alone as I thought. These were the little things that happened to let me know I didn’t have to let the pain swallow me alive, to let me know that I didn’t have to drown.
Of course, some small part of me knew that Lily couldn’t save me. He couldn’t save me no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted it. I simply didn’t belong to him. I wasn’t his to save.
The weeks wore away, ocean waves pounding on the shore. I couldn’t tell if I was being pushing closer to that shore, closer to something I could hold onto, something I could use to pull myself out of the water, or if I was being pulled farther and farther away from it, farther away from anything that could save me.
And there was a part of me that didn’t want to be saved. There was a part of me that couldn’t, wouldn’t let go of Bam. Couldn’t walk away from him. Part of me that knew as long as I was hurting, then I hadn’t let go of him. As long as I was hurting, I was still clinging to him, and then maybe there was a chance that he would take pity on me.
I knew then, as I know now and have always know, that Bam was what was pulling me down. If I could have let go of Bam, I could have kicked to the surface of my own will. I could have gotten to the shore; I could have pulled myself out. He was tied to my ankles, pulling me, yanking me, torturing me.
There was torture in every time he turned his head away from me, torture in every hesitating footstep, every time I felt his eyes burning into the back of my neck, every hiss I felt more than heard coming from his mouth.
It was Hell. I was in Hell.