Imperfect | est. 2015

27. Distance

I thought that I was going to lay in that yard forever.
I'd gotten to that point when I would ask myself questions. Things that I already knew. And Connor knew not to answer them. He just watched me, in concern. He had an innocent look on his face that broke my heart to look at... so I didn't. I stared up at the stars and wished I didn't draw so much attention to myself from the situation.
But there wasn't exactly a way to avoid it.
I wish there was.

Grams had completely lost her memory. And her mind... Probably forever. And I still didn't understand how I was expected to handle that.

Connor knew that if he didn't say something, I would be sitting there forever, "Do you want to go to our place?" He said, nicely.
I sighed, trying to remember what exactly he meant by that.

"Our place?"

He bumps me with his elbow while he lied next to me, "You know," he muttered, "Twelve O'clock?"

I smiled over at him, "Twelve O'Clock."

****

I never thought that not having a car would feel so relieving. We walked to the cement bridge that stretched over the pond and had no problem with it. There were no mosquitos, the moon was bright enough to look like a dim blue sun, and there were enough stars to fill dozens of other planets. Not only that, Connor couldn't do anything without some kind of music playing. So he played his favorite Ed Sheeran song from his phone and slipped it into his back pocket.

And even though we didn't say anything yet, moments like that were when we continued some silent conversation that only we understood. There wasn't much to say in order to get Connor to understand. He just always did.
He only needed to look at me once, and he knew exactly what to do.
So I stopped in the middle of our path on the sidewalk and sighed. FOr a moment, all he did was look at me. Then I sighed and pressed my hands to my forehead.
He knew what to do.

He tilts his head to one side, "Are you okay?"

I stressfully took my hand from my face and scoffed at him, "Yeah, I'm fine."

And all he had to do was shake his head, "No you're not."

... even though it was something I already knew, it still hurt like a bullet when someone said it for me.
I stared up at him, feeling the reality crawl back over my skin again. I felt like my lungs were shriveling.

He opened his arms and made his way toward me so he could embrace me like he usually did. He set his chin on top of my head while I resisted any tear that I'd feel burning in my eyes. And he ran his fingers through my hair, "Skylar," he whispered, "you need to talk about it. There's gotta be something you need to say."

"There's nothing," I felt my voice becoming raspier by the second, "I don't want to talk about it."
He held my head closer to his shoulder and all I could do was hold my breath so I wouldn't fall apart.

"Trust me, I know you," he says, then pulling my head away from him and holding my face in his hands, "you won't last any longer if you don't do something."

I looked into his eyes and he saw the tear that finally fell down my cheek and onto my t-shirt, "What do you mean?"

"You," he started the sentence but took a pause while he moves a strand of hair behind my ear, "are the strongest person that I know... you faced the worst fear out of the three of us and you still walked out of that hospital like you were fine...," then he looks me in the eyes as deeply as had when things were going wrong, "but even the strongest people break... and I don't want you to break."

I held my ground, but my chest was still tightening.
There was a shakiness in my hands that I couldn't control and I could no longer look him in the eye.

Maybe he was right.

Eventually, I would break.