Running

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A clock's ticking can mean many things for many people. It used to mean a countdown, a distraction, a scare. Now, it is of a calming method, a reassurance, something to be grateful for.

And yet, I still wonder what may happen if this clock stopped ticking...

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The rain drenches my hair and shirt as I run to find cover, tears still running down my face regardless of being constantly washed away as water seeps through my shoes. I continue to run, even with my side beginning to ache familiarly, the echo of my thoughts in my mind, of unsaid actions and words desperately needed to be said. 

Finally stopping, I completely forget about the rain and sink to my feet, kneeling against the mud and grass beneath me without a second thought about it. I rip at my hair and sob, reaching into my pocket, only to find it abnormally light. Laughing bitterly at myself, I remember that I had not brought anything sharp. Anything but my necklace.... My safety pin necklace...

Suddenly I feel choked, like the promise is breaking me, despite only being there for one night. I wrap my hands around the clasp and tear it. Having hoped to feel less strangled, I sink my head into  my knees, hugging them as I cry silently into my ripped jeans, barely feeling the wind or rain.

"Gross..." "Desperate..."  "Pathetic!" They all laugh in unison, whilst I bury my face further into my knees. "Look! Look at me!" I cry harder and refuse, suddenly feeling cold steel pressed against the back of my neck, but it doesn't feel quite right this time. I can feel her nails against my skin, just slightly, even the excessive amount of lotion previously rubbed into her skin.

"Look, you sick imbecile!" I look up, only to see her twisted, abnormal smile directed towards me. Dark circles brim her eyes, and smudged mascara can be seen on her face. I reach out a hand to touch her arm, but it goes directly through. It's not her. Yet the words sting no less.

The silence now feels threatening, and I hear a distant whisper call my name. 

"Eleanor..?"

Her voice sounds secluded, repressed and yet also loud and strong. I quickly rub my tears from my face and stand before she can see what had happened. I tuck my necklace and pin into my pocket, hoping she won't notice. I do, however, notice that she isn't wearing hers.

"Artemis." I state, hoping she wont notice the slight jump in my voice. I walk up to hug her, as I always do, before asking the question I've always hoped she'd ask me first.

"Are you okay?" My voice is comforting, silent, steady. She smiles and nods, sighing playfully at my hug and reluctantly hugging me back for just a moment. I pull away, seeing that she still would prefer without my hugs. Understandable, given how clingy and needy I must be towards her. My emotions, thoughts, everything revolve around her. I wish she relied on me as much as I rely on her.

"Are you?" My head spins too many ways in too little time to comprehend, my voice stating confidently that I am in fact fine from impulse. If only I could be honest. Really honest. Not just say nothing and cry, telling her just one of the thousands of things whirling inside me. One of the millions of things stabbing my heart, and the one person doing it. Me.

She gives me the look, and all I want is for her to interrogate me. Pressure me until I break. Hug me until I can no longer breathe.


'To find another, is just another, until *the one*

That's what they say about love, is it not?

And yet a cool moon for them, mine is the scorching sun,

My love is true, yet much too hot,

I burn her with my crushing want.'


I would give so much to pour my poems into the air, soft fog escaping my mouth as I speak what words just cannot, but I can't. She doesn't want me, though once she had. It's been three years I've loved her, and a month ago she *thought* she *might* have liked me a *bit*. For about a week, until the person she loved, her manipulative toxic ex, chose to make her hope again. I'm glad he did, though, because those three years I've loved her, she's loved him. Until just a while ago, when she lost feelings for him, and me just before that. Completely. What hope do I have left?

I regret it already. "Why?" My voice is silent. I hate this why am I doing this- "What?" She's confused, I can opt out- "Why am I always the second choice? If I'm even a choice at all." I think my voice is steady. I'm shaking, and suddenly more aware of the distance between us, both mentally and physically. And yet it still feels like I can see each and every eyelash under the moonlight, every thread on the matching pj's I'd given her, the lack and overload of emotion in her eyes, withholding something. Everything. She seems irritable now, annoyed I'd ever have such a thought, and yet I still know I'm right. She's not tried nearly as much as I have to show that she cares, and instead she always squirms in my hugs, pushes me away, runs to anyone but me, lied to me. So, so many times. And I just know she'll continue.

She laughs irritably, my heart pounding in my chest from anticipation and fear and hurt. "What do you mean?" She asks, words full and complete, strong. My mouth goes dry. "I mean just what I said." I try to stand on my feet without swaying, I feel much too lightheaded and lost, her face alone right now, she's mad. At me. I never wanted to make her mad, god, what am I doing?!



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⏰ Last updated: Sep 29 ⏰

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