𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 | 𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨

028. reuniting 🫂

evangeline cromwell

It was the middle of February and I was on my way to Cirrane.

I had my head rested on the window and closed my eyes in hopes of sleeping. But the bumpy roads had other plans and I sighed, moving my head on my seat, trying to find a comfortable place to sleep.

"You can rest on my shoulder." Andrew offered from next to me. I turned my head towards him and saw my best friend's tired face. We've been on the road for almost two hours.

"You're a lifesaver." I smiled at him and rested my head on his shoulder as I tried to stop a yawn. We had to be at school at 6 in the morning so we can arrive as early as possible. And I couldn't sleep most of the night, as usual, and only slept maybe two hours.

The sounds of my very active colleagues and the music from the radio only made me feel even more tired.

Andrew placed his head on mine and for a second I imagined Henry doing the same. I quickly erased that thought by blinking fast.

Truth be told, I was afraid to sleep. Because every time I would, I had dreams about Henry leaving me again and again. Leaving me when I needed him the most. And I hated waking up and realising that he did just that and that dream it's the reality.

"Are you okay?" Andrew said to me.

I've managed to look more happy. To look like I'm slowly getting better and over my heartbreak. It was easy to fool my parents because they were happy that I didn't lock myself in my room anymore. With Andrew was harder but I've managed to make him believe I'm better and Henry is just a distant memory.

But nobody knows that I'm crying myself to sleep. Nobody knows how hard my heart beats when I hear the news, thinking that they caught them or that Henry is dead. Nobody knows that my heart still belongs to him and that I read his letter every day. That I already have it memorised and I could recite it like a poem.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I bite back some tears.

I've cried in the last few weeks more than I cried my whole life and I hate how weak that makes me feel. I shouldn't cry over someone who hurt me, lied to me, loves me. I shouldn't but I do it every night.

"Take a rest and I'll wake you up when we arrive, alright?" My best friend says and kisses the top of my head and I once again imagine Henry doing that to me.