🛹🥺💖
im outside
Sent 8.13am
I held back the curtain with a finger, staring down at the beat-up old car waiting on the street to drop us off at school. It'd become a morning ritual but this Monday was different.
Lloyd was leaning against the car door, hunched over his phone as he tapped his foot anxiously on the ground. His blond hair was messy, glinting golden in the morning light and it looked like he hadn't slept.
I hadn't, either.
It felt like my heart was stuck in my throat.
🛹🥺💖
please talk to me
Sent 8.13am
I closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against the frame. My head was mush and my chest felt empty. I think I was coming down with something.
Me
I'm not coming to school today
Delivered
Me
I'm sick
Delivered
I watched through foggy eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. He typed.
🛹🥺💖
i hope you feel better soon
Sent 8.16am
He got into the car and drove away. I dropped my head onto my knees, inhaling shakily.
I felt awful for the things I said on Saturday. The truth had startled me but it was the fact that I was kept in the dark by everybody, Lloyd included, that had hurt me. Emotions got the better of me and I said some... really bad things, stuff that hurt Lloyd. I regretted my words.
But on the other hand, my pain was justifiable - as reassured by mum when I had confessed everything to her while sobbing over a tub of cookie dough ice cream while Iron Man played on the tv.
A relationship built upon a lie was a fragile catastrophe. It only took one blow to topple it.
That being said, it's not as if I stopped loving Lloyd. I don't think I ever could - but that didn't mean I couldn't love him and hate his silence at the same time. It was a tepid balance, a delicate dance, it was both adoration and agony swirling into a mess of a thundering, broken heart.
I just needed time to reset myself. Press restart on my brain, file through the PDFs, clean out the junk documents. I'd already forgiven the others, as it wasn't their place to tell but I still acknowledged the ache it left me with. They all knew that Lloyd was playing me like a fiddle. Just them knowing that I'd been hopelessly naive for months stung.
And lastly, I was a coward. I was a big fucking coward. Sure, I can kick my possessed boyfriend in the balls but the mere thought of seeing them all again so soon terrified me.
They were my world and it felt as if my entire world was against me. It scared me, so I was cornered, trapped inside my house by my own stupid, irrational fear.
I leant my head back against the window frame and stared at the spot Lloyd had been. I wanted to run out, run after him. I wanted to go back to the way things were when I was stupidly naive. At least I was naive but happy.
But even if I did cave and go after Lloyd, we couldn't just brush this under the rug. It would grow and bulge morbidly. It would explode on us and the results would be infinitely more worse than this.
We just needed to talk.
Which was the one thing Lloyd was bad at, apparently.
I got up, shivering from the cold morning as I went to make a coffee. Winter was just around the corner but I felt as if I deserved to be frigid and uncomfortable.
I let him lead me blindly. He had pulled a rug over my eyes and I was happy to allow him.
I was a colossal dumbass.
Nobody can ever be considered to be perfect but I thought that Lloyd was pretty damn close. Of course that blew up in my face.
Of course it did.
That's what I get for assuming that he was a boyfriend who couldn't put a foot wrong.
Aside the Axon thing.
God and even that, he didn't want to talk about. It wasn't even as if it was just him affected! We all just shoved it aside and never brought it up again. How is that functional? How is that healthy? It isn't!
Forgetting about it doesn't solve it. Forgetting about it doesn't fix the trauma. Forgetting about it doesn't make Lloyd better and it doesn't make the rest of us okay with what happened.
And what about Morro? Nobody has talked about that since it happened all those months ago! Lloyd was possessed. His body was almost half dead when he came to and he just pushed it away as if it was totally fine. Every time I tried to help, he just shut down.
Isn't communicating important? Didn't he trust me?
