PULSE [H.S]

089

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts." - Winston Churchill

Harry's car smells like him.

Which makes sense; I just haven't smelled this much of him in a while. He smells like mint and honey, and the smell fills my nostrils. I crack my window, needing some fresh air in my lungs.

"What are you doing?" he asks me.

I say, "I just needed some fresh air."

"Kiz, it's raining," he points out. He says, "You're letting all of the water get in."

I frown as the raindrops splatter on the door of the car. Some of them come in further and hit my arm, wetting my skin. I roll the window back up for the sake of his car interior, but I feel trapped again.

"Sorry," I mumble.

Two months ago, when we were in this car, we were something great. We were happy and in love, and the car was filled with that. Now everything is different. It feels tense, uncertain, and sometimes painful. Things change so quickly. I just want things to go back to how they were.

But it'll never be the same as it was.

I realized when I woke up today that I'm in mourning. I'm mourning the person I was two months ago. I miss her and her happiness. I miss how she was with Harry, and I miss them. But those people don't exist anymore. They're just a memory. The two people sitting in this car right now only have traces of who they once were.

I've never handled change well, mostly because all of the big changes that happened in my life were so abrupt. I would just be living my life, and then suddenly everything shifted. One event or one moment changed the entire trajectory of my life. It's not easy to adapt when your world is constantly flipped upside down.

Harry's voice steals my attention as he says, "Where are you right now, Kiz?"

I turn my head so that his face comes into sight, finding him looking over at me. My heart is so torn as I'm being pulled in two different directions. I love him, but he left me as soon as things got tough. I want to be with him, but he might leave me again. I miss him, but I need to figure out what is best for me. I need to protect myself.

I say, "I'm trying to figure out who I am now."

Who I am without you.

"You're a fighter," he says with a gentle tone, "You've been through so much, but you never gave up. You never stopped fighting, and you made it through everything on your own. That's who you are, a fighter."

My vision blurs as the tears pool in my eyes.

I am a fighter. I've been through so much in my life. I don't want to pity myself, but I think it's safe to say that I've been through more than the average person my age has. I made it through all of it on my own.

But I don't want to have to fight so hard. I'm exhausted.

I say, "I'm tired of fighting."

He says, "I know, but you're not a quitter. You're stronger than you think you are, Kiz. I saw your inner strength the very first time I met you, and it's only grown since then."

"Why are you always so good with words?" I say as I smile at him and wipe a few stray tears off my face. He gives me a half grin, and I say, "Sorry. I don't know what's up with me today."

I didn't expect to be crying at 7:30 in the morning, but here I am, crying in Harry's car as the rain pours down around us. There's a storm going on inside my head, and I don't know when it's going to clear up.