tell me you love me now, or moan it when you're with someone else, I don't care//
Why does this feel like a mistake?
The morning light shines a lifeline…
Escape is what I need
“It’s quite ironic, how our hearts still get hurt by something we’ve seen coming”
- (C.B)
anyone else with the experience of heart suddenly being stopped at 3AM in the middle of a movie or fanfiction by mom soundlessly appearing in the doorway?
“You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.”
Looking for Alaska - John Green
“I need to go,” I whisper. But I don’t move. His head falls forward onto mine and I let my hands rest on his lower abdomen. I grin a little at the shudder that echoes through him at my touch. It seems fairer this way. He shouldn’t get to leave composed when he’s left me so thoroughly unraveled. I used to look down on level-headed girls who become a mass of contradictions like they don’t know damn well they should leave the boy breaking their heart. God, I was an idiot. Around him, I become an incoherent stream of inverted question marks and half-hearted periods and even those fly out the window when his hands are on me.
“I thought you were leaving,” he says after a long moment.
I laugh sadly. “Yeah, I thought so too.” Sighing, I pull away and head for the door.
“Ree- ”
“You know that nickname never made any damn sense - ”
“Ree, ” he drawls, looking every bit as arrogant and devastatingly handsome as the first day I met him.
“What?” I ask, voice raising a little higher than intended.
“Why aren’t we still together?”
I suck in a surprised breath. “Honestly? Some days, I ask myself the same question, ” I admit for the first time out loud. “Some of my favorite memories are with you.” I smile indulgently at the thought of the many lazy afternoons and weekend adventures spent in his arms. Even now as I leave, a part of me wishes I could stay. “But that isn’t enough,” I clear my throat loudly, “not anymore.”
I know he wants me to say more but I don’t know who that would help. Because the truth is that no amount of love changes the fact that he is careless with other people.
“Ok,” he says softly. I think he knows that for me, there’s nothing left to be said.
So I leave, wishing it felt better even though I knew it wouldn’t. My momma always said it was better to be the one who leaves. She didn’t tell me how remarkably similar it feels to being left.
If you’re unlucky, the first person to break your heart will be your parent, if you’re unfortunate, it’ll be both of them, but if you’re determined, you’ll be all right.
