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shortcake ; ❛it's not your fault❜ ────────────
ꨄ
Good things must go bad, sooner or later.
It's only natural for things to deteriorate; we must not get in the way of nature. It does what it wants.
We, too, deteriorate. But, we hate the idea of it.
Too scared to leave the comfort of our bubble, fearing that we'll meet our expiration date sooner than desired.
But stars aren't scared of death.
They meet their expiration date, and become something bigger, something greater.
So why can't we?
ꨄ
I held her tight, my hand resting upon the back of her head to keep her tucked in the crook of my neck. Blair wept into my shoulder, uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry, Blair. I'm so sorry." I whispered by her ear.
Her nails pierced through my back.
"I loved him so much. How can he be dead?!" She asked in pure disbelief, but I didn't hold the answers she so desperately wanted.
"What kind of world does this?," She backed away from me, and collapsed to the ground like a feather.
"Who does this?!" The young girl cried into her hands, grieving over the boy she had planned to spend the rest of her life with.
ꨄ
I was unable to reach her after that day at the hospital. It had been a whole week since then, and her absence was worrisome.
I had left my fair amount of text messages and attempted phone calls. She never picked up, never even read through our chat.
The police had been very strict with visitation; her home address was unknown to me. I thought about sending some flowers, but things never worked out.
Blair was, literally speaking, alive and breathing. But, grief had turned her into a walking corpse.
She was unreachable, rotting away on the same old bedsheets she wouldn't bother to wash. Almost unresponsive.
