A Starting Point

CHAPTER SIX- A STORM INSIDE ME

Heloyse

Another month has gone.

I always woke up after lunch. I distracted myself with movies, music... At night, I always sat at the back of the house, in my rocking chair. I covered my legs with a blanket and enjoyed my coffee. Everything is so lonely. Everything so far from me.

Sometimes there were tears, sometimes just frustration. I went to understand that love was nothing more than several shots of drink. People were getting drunk with the pleasure he gave us. The other day, it all boiled down to a headache. The nights became too long and the days interminable. And how painful were the memories I had of him. The sound of his laughter echoed in my head, along with the vivid memory of his touch. All this tormented my nights. I was afraid I was loving him more than before.

I needed to get out of there. I needed to get away from everything that reminded me of him. Everything made me want to be with him. I was definitely in pieces.

Christmas came and I didn't even leave the house. I refused to accept a visit from Ashley and some friends. There were no trees, decorations or gifts. There were no warm companions and no voices. Only the silence of my house and the sadness that welcomed me in a hard and cold way.

And so, it's been five months since he left me. Damn months! Damn hours!

Sometimes I distracted myself by looking at the rain outside.

This rain thing is interesting. The blue turns to gray and the clouds are heavy. And you run so as not to get wet. Sometimes you even protect yourself, but sometimes getting wet is inevitable. So the first drops are the worst. Until we get used to the temperature, we have the impression that every drop that falls on our body makes us feel pain. And with time, after a good time in the rain, we get used to it and we don't regret anymore, because the way is to move forward in this rain until we find shelter.

Life is like that. Just when you think you're at your best, when you think your comfort zone is fine the way it is, disappointment comes, like storm clouds clouding the day. She is as cold as the rain. And you run from these rainy moments. Throughout life, he even tried to protect himself or thought he was protected. As I said, sometimes getting wet is unavoidable. And the first few days, months or even years are the worst. Until you put your head down and come to terms with what happened, it's painful. But with time, after a long time, going through this stormy weather, you'll get used to it, because the way is to move on and stop complaining. One hour or another, you will find your shelter...

I'm going through these stormy days. The first days, months, have passed and everything is still painful. I still haven't found my shelter to protect myself from this rain. And I'm constantly inside a storm.

04:55 AM.

When he was with me, I slept well.
I sat on the edge of the bed. My body aching from this marathon of sleeping late, waking up late, and lying on the couch. This was killing me. I leaned against my bedroom window. There wasn't a living soul out there. A few minutes later, I went downstairs and into the kitchen for a glass of water. Our pictures were still on the fridge door. I still hadn't worked up the courage to take them off, as Margot suggested.

How could I get them out of there, without even taking it out of my heart, could I? How to say "I loved you", if I still loved him? How to say "I forgot you", if my mind refused?

I put on my slippers, put my hooded coat over my nightgown, grabbed a bunch of keys from my drawer and left the house.

The cold took over the dawn along with the light drizzle that fell. It was a bitter cold, where every breath of air felt like razors cutting my skin.

I know it was absurd what I was doing, but my mind wouldn't obey me.

I pulled up in front of his house, across the street, behind an old parked car. My heart warmed just being there. It was the home of the person who held my heart in his hands. I stayed there, watching for I don't know how long. I thought that being there, I was close to him. I could feel it.

Did even coincidence play with my heart?

His bedroom window opened and I saw him. My heart was racing and for a moment, I thought I was going to have a fit.

Why wasn't he sleeping? He was always the type to sleep well.

I crouched behind the car and managed to keep watching him. Michael leaned over the window ledge and twice I saw him run his hand over his chin. He always did that when he was nervous or worried about something. He remained there for a few minutes, head down.

Somewhere, a cat meowed, drawing his attention. He looked towards the end of the street and then he directed his gaze towards the parked car where I was hiding.
He looked in the direction I was standing for a while. I could feel the speed of my racing heart.

He wasn't seeing me. It wasn't possible. But in a way, I thought he still felt drawn to me. I wanted him to still feel something. I wanted to believe it.

After a few minutes, Alice appeared behind him, hugging him. He looked at her and then back to where I was. To the car. After a few seconds, Michael closed the window and emptiness brutally returned to me. I went back home, went into my room and waited.

I waited and waited, until I disappeared somewhere.