Our love

Hope

I more than definitely believe that people can feel dead without actually having no pulse. I always wondered what it felt like because even when my life was at my lowest, I still convinced myself that it was better than being dead.

Right now is when I have no excuse or explanation. I'm laying in my bed, staring at the ceiling and breathing in dusty air. All day and night Emilio is all over me and everything else. I can't focus on anger in ways I used to anymore because if Emilio was angered, I could explain that to any extent.

Marcus has been good to me. We speak very little and despite the fact that he somehow always knows where and who I'm with, he's pretty nice to be around. We've had a couple more of those talks over the unappealing food in the cafeteria. I take a bite, he tells me things about Emilio.

All of the 5 months that we've been apart, my heart has never ached more. Every day doesn't get better and the thought of him only slips from me further. I hate when people tell me things get better with time. With my mother they never did, the heart wrenching memories of my father never do. And Emilio, even if these 5 months were 5 years, I still can't allow my heart to breath.

I exhale softly and suppress the emotion in my body. Without him here I've had other things to blur my life with. I've tried again and again to force my tears back. When I see him I don't want to cry, I want it to be some stupid happy lovey dovey moment that only appears in movies.

If I cry then he'll feel like shit and start comforting me instead of kissing me. I won't let him, I won't cry. I'll smile so big tears trickle from the corners of my eyes due to happiness.

                                         〰️〰️〰️

"What's up" Sebastian asks. Catching me with heavy breathes while I circle the field for the 6th time. "Walking" I say. Gritting my teeth in unexpected irritation. I feel his so big and happy eyes staring at me, digging through my stature and wanting more. "You know Sebastian, walking helps with stress. Asking people questions about their issues don't" I deadpan. Stopping him before he can even ask.

He laughs under his breath and slows his pace. He walks by me and towers against my shoulder by a couple inches, "5 months didn't seem long in a dark basement" I say. His breathes stop quickly and his body fills with discomfort. "I don't think I can take another month" I grumble. He places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"What are you gonna do if these 5 months turn into the end of your sentence" he says. I slam my eyes to his and hold my breath, "don't say that" I whisper.
He sighs slowly and begins to jog again.

I watch as he runs away with glassy eyes. I swipe them away when they drizzle down my cheek and bite my tongue with anger. Words never hurt me, I've been told to many things that at some point in my short life I became numb to it. But what Sebastian just said, completely shattered any hope my heart held onto.