Lilith (old version)

Chapter 27

Lilith

This horrible half-grief has made me feel complicit in darkness.

Several days later I'm finally healed enough to walk on my own without excess pain. My ribs still burn whenever I move too fast or breathe too hard, but overall I can do what I need to. What I need to do now is go back to my house. In a way being bedridden at Nathan's house has been a blessing, I haven't been able to leave which means I've been able to avoid facing that dark, silent house that I'm supposed to call home. 

But with Nathan gone so often, either out or at college, and Jess also being away at school most of the time, it's been lonely. Incredibly so. But I remind myself that I am always welcome here in my loneliness, in my sadness, in this abyss. There is a rhythm I remember. The steady drop of tears, the temptation to retreat, the shadow of my past; the life I choose to forget.

Loneliness is a strange sort of thing. It creeps up on you, quiet and still, sits by your side in the dark, strokes your hair as you sleep. It wraps itself around your bones, squeezing so tight you almost can't breathe. It leaves lies in your heart, lies next to you at night, leaches the light out from every corner. It's a constant companion, clasping your hand only to yank you down when you're struggling to stand up. You wake up in the morning and wonder who you are. You fail to fall asleep at night and tremble in your skin. You doubt, you doubt, you doubt. Do I? Don't I? Should I? Why won't I? And even when you're ready to let go. When you're ready to break free. When you're ready to be brand-new. Loneliness is an old friend standing beside you in the mirror, looking you in the eye, challenging you to live your life without it. You can't find the words to fight yourself, to fight the words screaming that you're not enough, never enough, never, ever enough. Loneliness is a bitter, wretched companion. Sometimes it just won't let go.

And in my loneliness I've learned some things. I've learnt that my heart is weaker than I thought, that I opened myself up too much, yet far too little. I realised that I either have to trust someone completely or not at all, because sometimes you can't just sit on the fence the whole time. Sometimes the fence will impale you and that hurts so much more than the free-fall of just trusting someone completely. But it's so hard to trust completely or even just a little bit because when the person you hand your heart to willingly sets it on fire and returns its ashes to you, you can't help but be protective of what you have left of it.

And the thing with me and Enzo is we were so, so perfect together. To a fault. Because water that never moves, it's fine for a little while. You can drink from it and it'll sustain you. But if it sits too long it goes bad. It grows stale. It becomes toxic. Enzo was like still water.

I'm almost grateful that I can go out, be away from my thoughts for awhile. Almost. Because the dread coiling in my stomach that has become a constant over the past few weeks has formed into full blown fear. It's confusing, because I'm no longer scared of seeing my father in that house, I'm scared because I won't see him in that house. It angers me, that I'm still scared. The only thing I've always been sure of is the fear of my father being home, but now I don't have that. I thought I'd feel so relieved to not have him in my life, but really all I feel is uncertainty now. And the thing is, lately I'm not sure of anything. Lately, I don't know anything about anything I've ever believed in, not anymore, and I know the least about who I am.

I hate this feeling, this new form of anxiety. It's different, and unusual, and most of all, scary. The only thing I know right now is that luckily, I still have a job. I never forgot, but I had put off phoning my manger for awhile because I was petrified of losing my job considering that I seemingly took off one day and haven't been back since. But as soon as I mentioned my father was dead, my manager was taken over with a sickly sweet kindness, ensuring he wasn't upset and that as long as I was back by the end of the week there would be no issues. It's times like these I'm almost grateful for the fact he's such a prick, he always shows favouritism with the younger female staff, and I've never been an exception to that rule. When I agreed to become a dancer, he was over the moon about it, it was disgusting but it's worked out in my favour now.