Profoundly alone

chapter 5: Freedom for the broken

Ethan went inside to wash his face. He said that he felt weird but I didn't give it much thought.

And so here I sat. Inside my car, yet no longer driving it. I let a sigh escape my heavy chest. I felt the melancholy flow in my body so effortlessly that another halfhearted sigh came along. The soft music playing quietly on the radio did not cure it. I felt unable to pick myself up. To even achieve literally of lifting my own hand. I felt worse and better at the same time. 

How inconvinient.

How absurd.

I felt numb, my feelings had left -since all I ever done was to repress them as if they would dissapear. And they did. In they end, they wouldn't come back. I would be an alive dead person.

And I was so broken, so exhausted and in lack of hope, and sleep also, that it didn't sound bad at all. That numb feeling was and always would be the best option. 

But it wasn't. What was I thinking?

 I was so confused. 

And I knew that, deep down. Deeper than the hate for my thoughts... for myself even, sometimes, deeper than from where my imagination bloomed and came from. I heard small sounds, muffled really. The rain, the music, myself breathing like I was gasping for air -or choking on it. Steps. Distant voices. Engines. Yet, I couldn't once again concentrate to any of them, -my mind wondered on its own and left me confused and...tired.

I saw a light between the trees and it made the leafs appear more poetic and beautiful. There were red, green ones at the end of the brunch and the other ones were too dark to even care what shade of color they were or appeared to be.

I sighed and looked blankly in front of me. What was there for me? What would there be? I didn't want to leave, I  couldn't. I tried to imagine the senario -me leaving... the town... Ethan. I shook my head so that I dismiss the threatening close thought.

I preffered this moment. I preffered to stay here forever. Unable to think or feel. And no one able to hurt me, not even my now peaceful self. 

But as a poet once said: If you are alone, do you call that freedom or loneliness? 

I didn't know the answer. 

I was so lost in the back of my head, yet so intently clunged onto the moment that I couldn't even tell the difference anymore. (a difference that once seemed obvious and clear to me and my young and happy mind). I sighed once more, -it was becoming a habit to do that every five minutes.

And I let the darkness consume me, my thoughts and let the tears embrace it and take a form around it.

Suddenly the door opened and Ethan sat down. He barged into the car with such force and hurry yet with gentle movements, just like how he barged in my life.

I sighed, again.

He didn't ask me what was wrong as he normally did. He knew what was wrong. I knew that, also.

I turned and looked at him leaning my head to the seat's head.

"Listen, Ethan" I started. I took his face in my hands. "I won't leave. I promise. I am sorry for even considering it" I said, and my voice sounded defeated. How did the lonliness go away when he stood so close, warming my cold heart?

"But, I thought you wanted to"

"I don't know what I want anymore" I said the words quietly, like a whisper. "But I know one thing for sure. And that is that I can't do that. I can't leave another part of me back. I already have lost so many" my voice had turned sad and tears started to roll down my cheeks, without force, but with calmness and patience.