The Symphony

Tearful Goobyes

They promised dreams
Could come true but forgot to mention
That nightmares are dreams too
___________

Charlie's pov
I've had a lot of time to think—and drink this past month. There really hasn't been much I've done besides that actually. All I can ruminate on is how I just left the redhead high and dry. Looking back, so many things could've been said and certainly I could've handled it better.

I think I was scared of what she would say when she returned. That she would blame me for the feelings of my parents whose beliefs contrasted greatly against my own. Where they saw only black and white, I saw a full spectrum of colors. Yet, nowadays, I've sought solace in the gray.

There's something bittersweet and special about living your life in limbo. Not quite being happy but not really being sad, a numb feeling that eases the pain. However, it doesn't last long; that pain rears its ugly head with a vengeance and the pain accumulates as though it never really left. I've harbored these feelings over the course of time when I thought I'd let it go.

This was like that unstable block of a jenga tower and when it was pulled, everything crashed down with it. All my resentment towards my parents and my shame on various points—one of which is being their daughter to begin with—suffocated me. Even in spite of my attempts to drink it away, work it away, sleep it away, nothing mattered.

So when I found myself faced with the woman that had haunted my dreams and plagued my waking nightmares, you could say I was shocked. I hated myself for allowing it to get this far. All I am is a shell of my former self at this point. I can't seem to let everything out, there's no more tears I can cry.

I've screamed until my voice went hoarse and I couldn't speak. I've cried until my head pounded so much so I thought I might finally be able to relinquish my hold to this agonizing cycle of life but, alas, I'm still here. I feel hollow; my heart beats but everything within it has decayed. My soul simply contained within a fruitless body.

Making futile attempts to reignite my will to go on, even if it's only to prove myself wrong. My friends, bless them, have fought for me even when I see no point in it. After weeks of us not communicating at all, they practically ambushed me. Bringing enough bags for a month, determined to pull me out of my funk.

Just when I thought I might be beginning to see the light of day, a heavy cloud fell over me. Here she is, standing before me, eyes scanning her surroundings. The clutter scattering my once spotless desk, a testament to the hurricane that had taken root in my body. "Well" I prompt, prepared to take the blows I'm sure she'll throw at me.

"How are you?" Is the first thing she asks and I can't help the chuckle that escapes my lips, though humor isn't present—and hasn't been for a while now. "I'm sure you can see" I reply flatly and I notice the way her fingers twitch on her cane, stirring up something in me for the first time in a long time. I hurt her, again.

"I'm trying here..." she sighs and I just stare at her, not able to utter a word. Something prevents me from believing her, even though I know she's being sincere. Wilhemina isn't one to be so careless and free with emotion. When she shows it, she means it. "I can't help you" I answer and I watch as she closes her eyes, her frustration palpable in the air.

It kills me to do this but at least I know that if she hates me, it's the first step in getting over me. That way I, nor anyone I know, can ever hurt her again. "God damn it, Charlie. Are you just not going to say anything?!" She exclaims and I just continue on watching her, fighting back the tears brimming in my eyes as my face remains neutral.

"I come all this way and you just—what—you don't care at all!" Her voice has risen quickly and I don't blame her. This is the result of a month's worth of anger and probably even more residuals of other stressors. "Ok, I get you're upset but you need to calm down" my head turns to the door to see Sarah stood in the threshold with her arms crossed over her chest.