𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

twenty-nine. | before/seventeen.

before
seventeen

I felt the gush of air hit my back as the train sped from the stop.

My lungs reluctantly filling with the very same cold air.

My muscles sore as the gravity of what just happened settles.

That was his goodbye.

Stepping on to a train and disappearing from my life as quickly as he walked back into it.

The idea that I could go home once I graduated, and I would find him still next door kept the little monster inside me well-fed. It was buying time. Time till I could have the only thing I've ever truly wanted.

He filled every impulse I ever had.

Gave me a high that no amount of tobacco or defiance could provide.

And he'd done so unconsciously to the point that I didn't even realize how deep I was in till it was suddenly missing.

Isn't that how all addictions are?

You don't know just how underwater you've sunk till you're at the bottom with no sight of sun.

Turning around made it real.

But then again, turning around would make me hate him. It would provide a rugged raft that might bring me just an inch closer to the surface.

I can't manage to move my entire body, so I just glance over my shoulder.

The same hands the pulled me from the ocean floor two years ago, fist at his sides as he hangs his head. His posture is rigid and his jaw clenches in the winter chill.

His left hand claws around his beanie as he slowly raises his eyes.

I see the disdain in them.

He hates himself for this.

But like all addicts... he can't so easily walk away from a drug that feels this good.

"You're shit at directions."

"I know where I'm going."

"We've been turned around twice now."

I'm not deterred.

Sure, I hadn't been to the river since Willow took me when I first arrived, on my welcome to Detroit tour, but I knew the general direction of it.

And it's a huge body of water, it's not as if it can hide.

"Have a little faith."

He scoffs. "God would smite me where I stand."

"If you're a child of God as many believe, you truly believe he would judge his own creation so cruelly?"

"The ones who give into the temptations of the Devil."

"I didn't realize you were so religious, Anay."

My arm is tucked into the crook of his elbow as we shove our respective hands in their respective pockets.

"I'm not."

"Then why are you so worried about being judged by a being you don't even believe in."

"I didn't say I don't believe," he murmurs. "I'm just not overly religious. You don't have to be extreme to understand basic principles."

"Putting faith in an invisible being seems religious."

"Morality is passed down through religion amongst other things. I can abide by the teachings that feel right to me."