The Fate Of Broken Hearts

Chapter 64

Aiden's POV

'Dear Emma,

     I have wondered what it might feel like to hold someone's hand as my mother did to me for many years. Often, I found myself thinking that one day, I could remember what the warmth of love would feel like in my palms or sound like in my ears. The truth is, I've been lost for a while. I haven't been able to live the way I wanted because I felt the same every day I was alive.

      I can't be sure of the exact moment that changed, but I know that I found a breath of air in you. I found courage and strength because you showed me that surviving wasn't the same as living. You became my comfort, my constant, my safety net when things went wrong. But I realise how selfish I had been to think that you could catch me every time I fell. I realise that the only person who can truly catch us is ourselves.

     We both know you deserve more than I can give you right now. You always deserved more since the start. You deserve someone who can be strong for you, who can support you and know what to say so you never feel alone. I've made so many mistakes. I've been drowned too many times by those mistakes that each time I fall, I sink further down. I thought that I could get better on my own. As long as I had you, I never needed anything else. But I can't ask you to forgive me for the hurt I've caused you. I know that no number of apologies could ever erase the things I've done. You don't deserve to lie on the kitchen floor, bleeding because I was too selfish to let you go.

     I've stayed up all night trying to put everything into words so I could understand how to be the person you need me to be. However, I am a man who can't stand to look at his own reflection. There are too many broken pieces that can't be put back together, and you aren't responsible for fixing them, Emmeline. You have dreams and goals and a wonderful life I wish I could be a part of, but there's always been a truth I refused to admit. I knew that if I chose its path, I'd have to confront every part of myself I despised. I ran away from it so many times, too afraid to look inside and face what stared back.

     Many times I've wondered if I was beyond help. Could someone like me ever look at themselves and not hate what they see? Could I really be fixed, or was I just another lost cause? When I fell in love, I was truly afraid to know the answer. I wished so many times I could be someone different for you. I wanted to be someone who woke up beside you every morning, unafraid of nightmares becoming a reality. Like the past weeks, I wanted to become someone who could look over and see you wearing my shirt with beautifully messy hair. I wanted to cook breakfast with you, buy you lunch every day, and watch your favourite Disney movies, listening to you sing along no matter how terrible you sounded. But most of all, I wanted to make you happy, to hold your hand without fear of a simple tremble. I would be brave for you. I would be everything you needed me to be because I love you. But I can never do any of those things as long as I feel so tainted with who I used to be. I don't know how to love you when I can't love myself.

     I spent so many hours trying to forgive myself for my mistakes, past, and family, but no matter how hard I try, I only resent myself more. I can't stand the sight of me. I feel sick. If you ever saw me the way I see myself and became afraid of me the way I am, I don't think I could recover from that.

     So, I owe it to you; I owe it to myself to face the truth I've run away from. I know you will be angry with me, but I hope you can someday understand that I need to do this myself. Between the ocean of your gaze and the memory of your smile, I found the courage to admit that I needed help. That I am far from okay. And maybe if I weren't so terrified to hurt you, I would be able to go through it all with you by my side. I know it might seem selfish, and maybe it is, but I'm okay with doing one more selfish thing if it's for you.

     Maybe you won't find the tears on this page or the love in the curves of every written word. Maybe with time, this letter will be lost or thrown out. These months will have meant less, and I will have been just another relationship to you. But for me, you meant every single breath.

    You will be in every record store I pass.

    Please, let me find a way to get better on my own. Let me be someone worthy of you.

    Love, Aiden.'

Emma looked up from the wobbling page. I watched silently as her lips parted, eyes enveloped by a shade of red. Her cheeks were flushed and drowned, yet she still looked breathtakingly beautiful.

When she spoke, her voice trembled. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

My entire body caved in on itself. A fierce ache plummeted from my heart into my stomach, crushing everything in its path. My tongue twisted and sat heavily between my teeth. What could she be apologising for? What had she ever done wrong? "I don't understand... What-"

The moment Emma's arms caged me firmly, securing me as close as possible, I was overwhelmed by the blur in my eyes.

"Please don't make me let go," she cried, resting her forehead on mine.

"I love you, Emmeline." I buried my face into her shoulder, inhaling every sweet smell. I don't know how long we stayed like this, holding each other, desperately wishing I could stay with her a little longer before I finally let go. My voice broke as I said, "Goodbye, sweetheart."

I didn't register the movement of getting into my car and driving away. I couldn't numb the pain settling inside my chest, battling my heart to turn around and take it all back. Instead, the roads became a giant, solemn blur as cries filled my ears, clogging my throat while trembling hands tore through my hair.

I used to believe I didn't have the heart to love. But now, it broke every day, knowing it might never hold her again.

***

Nine people sat in a circle of black chairs. It was like a small, intimate classroom filled with people from many places and cultures. Each had a different story to tell, different grief to face. Yet, regardless of their differences, they had all attempted the same thing: to die.

I found myself more engrossed by what they said than the first time I was here, five years ago. I still remember feeling so small and insignificant compared to everyone else. I thought no one could understand what my situation was like. But once I really started to listen, I discovered I wasn't the only one who had felt alone. I was just like these people who sat beside me, sharing their weaknesses and moments of vulnerability. The more I heard, the less anxious I became.

"We have a new member today." The man two seats across subtly gestured toward me. "Would you like to share something with the group?"

I scanned over every person, overwhelmed by the number of eyes suddenly staring at me. I swallowed, the nerves darting and growing. I had sat in my car for twenty minutes, trying to calm my rapid breaths from breaking out into a panic attack. When I finally got out and entered the building, it happened all over again.

"It's okay to be nervous," said another man. His smile was kind and generous. He was sitting directly on my right, dressed in khakis and a knitted sweater. "The first time is always the hardest. Just start with your name and why you're here."

I rubbed my sweaty palms over my jeans and sat forward. My thoughts raced to find Emma. Flashes of her skidded across my mind, slowing the race of my heart.

There were so many moments where I found myself thinking about her. I wondered what she might be doing, whether she still met William at the same coffee shop every day. Or whether she still played those records I gifted her for her birthday.

I promised I would get better for myself, but I was also getting better for her. So I wasn't going to let her down.

After all, I promised to play the piano for her someday.

I held onto the faint memory of her hand in mine as I looked around the room once more. "Hi. My name is Aiden, and I tried to kill myself when I was sixteen."

The End.