Interlinked

Chapter 33

My apologies for any slight mistakes. 

Chapter 33: 

    You forget how it feels like to be loved when you are the person who is falling for the other deeper with every passing day. One touch becomes sweeter and hurtful and one look at them enchants your world and wings your life around.

  The world serenades for you, tunes and notes you've never heard honestly, in which leaves you dazzled and in awe, for knowing that only you are able to hear a serenade made for you. And that’s when you start feeling the vortex taking a hold of you before it pulls you deeper and deeper.

  And you wonder: am I crazy?

The answer is: who isn't crazy? For we are human beings, and sensitive by nature, caring or heartless – which is due to giving up so much that you've realized you never received anything . We are irrational and insecure, maybe even sane when we've reached the extreme level of our insanity, because this is us.

  When the world turns around under our feet, we just believe that the world is simply black and white, and our skin color is gray. We're united when we are in pain or we are afraid. When the world spins swiftly with every exhaled breath we just throw our hands carelessly in the air to see whose touch might awaken us.

   Just imagine it, with your heart turning around and your mind throbbing vigorously in the back of your head as your body lightens with every cavernous breath that floats within you. Afterwards, just lift your hands higher than they were before until you've reached the limit – your limit and patiently wait for a hand to interlink with yours. Because we ask for hope even if we know we’re unaided and alone in this abyss.

  Days in and out, you just think that you’re crazy because you make decisions that don’t even make sense to you. Where you desire to take control over a fear, over a voice, a whimper or a heart that does not belong to you.

  We cannot control many things: fear is one of them. Time is the other, and bigger part in which we cannot ever stop, but we certainly can ruin or make the best out of it.

  Still, what hurts is when you count the days. For instance: when you fix your life on a calendar that will only show you how terrible that decision you've made was and will remain until you fix it or make it better.

  Day one: was the hardest after hanging up on Zayn and never answering his phone calls, or accepting his visits where I’d tell mom that I’m sick, going to bed or too exhausted to keep my eyes opened or even go to school whenever I can.

  Day two: it got worse when I read the texts that he sent me but I've decided to ignore them until I – myself- have found the right words to say whenever I crash down or get a visit from reality. It’s hard to read those messages that plead with me to give him an explanation and maybe confront him and let him know if this has anything to do with Ellen or Amanda or maybe something he did before and I decided to punish him for it now.

  Day three: and may the Lord Almighty have mercy on me for I started to notice that the times he called me were countable.

  Day four: I stare at my phone with a gap that sucks in the cold air into my chest before it spreads widely in my body, and just wanting to see my phone vibrating in my hand as it informs me that Zayn either sent a message or is called me. But, today is different from the last three days since I did not even receive a missed call from him all day long and I believe that this is both well and bad.

      “You could be pretty stupid some times,” Laura sighs out in frustration while staring madly at me as I shrug my shoulders slowly and remain silent. “Why did you break up with him?”