Saving Boston (Rewritten)

Flowers Don't Belong Under The Dirt

The sound of Bo crying out my name awoke me. My back lifted from the mattress as the darkness of our room consumed me. I reached out to find the curly-haired girl, but my palm collided with the empty space beside me. As I slipped from the comforter, her cries continued filling the air. My eyes searched the hallway, but I could hear her sobs below me.

I flipped the lights on as I hurried down the staircase to find Bo sitting on the couch. Her face hid between her knees as her body violently started to shake. The confusion filling my veins made me question when she slipped out of bed. Rarely had Bo been able to leave our bedroom without me realizing it.

The caramel eyes I adored so much opened to look at me. The terror in her eyes would haunt my dreams forever, but before I could question why she had been crying, her arms shot out for me. My body collided with the couch as tears soaked my shoulder. Her grip tightened around my neck as sobs racked through her body.

I caressed her skin, hoping to soothe every ounce of discomfort she felt. My lips pressed against the top of her head. My lips touched her ear as I softly whispered promises to keep her safe.

"Bo -"

"I can't remember," she choked. "I can't fucking remember."

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion as I looked over her face. The horror written into her expression was evident, but I questioned what caused it as she sat on my lap, telling me she couldn't remember something. Her eyes swelled from the tears that would never stop falling, and they crushed me as much as they confused me.

"What can't you remember, baby?"

"The party," she raked her fingers through her hair. "I can't remember the party."

"You are having dreams again?"

"I've had them ever since we split up."

My shoulders fell in defeat as her head fell against my chest. As my palms felt the vibration of her violently shaking below me, I felt the guilt eat away at my consciousness. As the girl below me fell apart, I knew I could never fill the hole in her heart. Nothing could fill the cracks broken by the man who claimed to love her.

"Maybe you should talk to somebody," I murmured into her hair.

She pushed away from my chest. "Like a therapist?"

"Yes -"

"After what happened with my last one, though, I can't."

"Baby, you tried to do something that could have cost your life," I cupped her cheeks. "The circumstances are different this time."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"Then it doesn't work, and we try something new."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," my forehead rested against hers. "It can be as easy as you want it."

"I can call around in the morning."

"I'll be here the whole time."

I breathed the same air as her, and it brought me comfort. When she inhaled, I felt my lips dry with the cold air. Just as she exhaled, the warmth brought me back to life. At the moment, it felt as if I only survived off the air she provided me. It had been true regardless. Bo had been the air in my atmosphere, for she was the only thing giving me life.

"I need to remember what happened that night."

"What if you can't?"

"I have to," her words rushed out.

"I'll help you anyway I can."

"I love you."

A chuckle left my lips as I kissed the tip of her nose. "I love you."

"Not as much as I love you."

I wanted to tell her how impossible that was. The woman sitting on my lap hadn't known the feeling inside my chest and how it amplified every time she was near. She would never understand what she has done for me. The curly-haired girl is oblivious to the difference she made in my life. I am a better man because of it.

"You would have loved me more if you knew me before everything happened."

"Why?"

"I laughed more," her shoulders tipped upward. "I was happier then and carefree."

"I love you now."

"But you understand -"

"I don't need to," my head moved back and forth. "I love you now. I fell in love with the woman you are, not the woman you used to be. Would I love you regardless? Yes. But I love you now."

"I can't let go of who I used to be."

"I know, baby," I kissed her shoulder. "You might think everything is dark right now, but how do you think seeds feel? We pile dirt on top of them and drown them in water. And still, they grow."

"It isn't that simple, though."

"You're right," I nodded. "But whoever said it was simple being a flower? It never knows the weather or the circumstances in which it will grow, so they are vulnerable. Yes, in the winter, they die, but they come back in the springtime to sprout all over again."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You are like a flower, Bo," I laced our fingers. "You have been planted. The growth is uncomfortable underneath the trauma piled on top of you, and as your roots spread, you never know when you will surface or if there is one. Everything is dark right now but you have been planted. All you need to do is grow."

"How do I grow?"

"Flowers don't belong under the dirt," a soft chuckle left my lips. "So, no matter how heavy the soil gets, it will never be enough to keep them down. You are stuck under the false pretense that you have to be who you were before everything happened to you, and you don't. Everything about you has changed because of your trauma, and that is okay. You aren't worth any less than the person you used to be because of it."