I have no idea how it started.
We were crumbling from the very moment we built our lives around each other, I guess. But in all true sense, I have no idea how it started.
I wonder what would've happened if I went back eighteen months in time, and gave myself a prenomination of self destruction. I would have probably smiled naively and replied; Don't we crumble and fall anyway?
No past Cara, we don't crumble anyway. Unless someone makes us.
The initiation, I reckon would be the first time that found out that you had lied to me.
It was much later that I realized that it hadn't been only one lie, but a throne of them upon which you dwelled, unwilling to be overthrown.
Ah the poetry.
You had once told me that if my mind had been a book, I would most definitely have been a Tolstoy.
I hadn't realized what you had meant by that till today.
November 8th: The beginning of the end and the day I convinced myself of many things.
I was sprawled across the carpet of your room, staring at the ceiling, occasionally reverting back to the book in my hand.
You were on your bed trying to finish your homework. I knew you were getting no where for the legendary Cigarette with a capital C was tucked between your lips producing serenading whifts of smoke at a rate I knew required your attention.
I hated them, your cigarettes.
But even I couldn't deny that you looked ethereal while smoking death.
"Cara."
I looked to the cloud that seemed to have spoken to me. The bed creaked slightly and I heard the distinct ruffle of sheets, giving me the slightest view of your pale, sinewy arm.
"I think we should break up."
I placed my book beside me and propped myself on my elbows. I could see you perched on your bed, unintentionally posing like the muse for some portrait.
Your eyes shifted to mine and a slight morose smile framed your face. It was a smile I had seen a lot since the past couple of days, our expiry date had been nearing and that smile had been a silent acceptance of that fact.
But I didn't know it ended today.
I looked at you and stood up fully. "Okay." I said, and you sighed.
"Why?" I asked out of compulsion, out of an undeterred expectancy of a reply that I believed I didn't really care for. Your smile seemed to have found its way back and you ran your hand through your dark hair.
"I hate you, Cara. That's why."
I froze.
It was the first time you had told me that. We insulted each other, and the unsaid words found ways to our hearts, but we had never said that to each other.
Never out loud anyway.
"Find what you love, and let it kill you." I mused. "Do you know who said that?"
You gave me a queer look, looking momentarily confused before replying. "Charles Buckowski, why?"
This time I got to be the one wearing your smile.
"Because he also said something else."
Your eyebrows scrunched together like paper, and I knew what would happen if I attempted to finish my dialogue. You would be ruined even if it was for a moment.
I did it anyway.
"Some lose all mind and become soul; insane," My smile deepened as I neared you and I could hear the faint whispers of Kurt Cobain reveling from your abandoned earphones.
"Some lose all soul and become mind; intellectual," I continued and now I was at the edge of your bed, glowering above you.
"And some, lose both and become accepted." I finished at the very moment the song ended, and I had the urge to start cackling. I looked amusedly at your eyes. Your eyes.
Your green eyes were anarchaic now and I finally let out a hollow laugh that seemed to echo.
"So tell me, what did you become, Theodore Archer?" I asked him, my smile swiftly replaced by a smirk colder than the harshest winters, somehow managing to make me feel exhilarated at the expression on your face.
And with that stark reply I picked up my book and before you could even comprehend or reply to what I said, I slammed the door shut.
That was how the impractical infinity of Cara Evelyn Follet and Theodore Michael James ended.
As I calmly left the building I had been eloquently acquainted with it struck me what you had meant by calling my mind a Tolstoy.
I was destructive.
And quite funnily, this time you destroyed me.
The irony.
* * * *
Authors note: M'kay so this is how these chapters go about. They're not linear as you may have made out by now. They involve flashbacks through different memories and it may get horrible confusing and I apologize for that, it's just that I've never attempted to write anything like so lol, sorraaaay.
Prolly when I finish the story, and edit stuff, will more clarity be provided, but hey I think this is clear enough lol. Any questions, hit me up :) Thanks y'all.
