S E E K I N G
My irregular heartbeat is starting to correct itself
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C A L U M
Whoever said you don't know what you got until it's gone, was right. In fact, it seems like when you're avoiding someone, they somehow become unavoidable. That's what it's been like for the two years she's been gone. I've tried — and I mean I've tried —to avoid her like the plague. But everywhere I turn, she's there. Whether real or not. She's imprinted on my mind. She's stained into the fabric of my heart. I feel her emptiness. And it's empty without her. Yet, no matter how much I crave her, some part of my brain still tells me that;
It was for the best.
But choosing your brain over your heart can feel like someone going into you with a knife, then slowly inching it out just to go in again. Actually, this pain is worst. I know I deserve it though. I deserve to feel every dull ache. Every pang that grips my chest every now and then. One thing I also know is that she deserved better. Way better.
I remember that night vividly. It was the hardest thing I had willed myself to do.
"So that's it...?" She had asked. "You're giving up?"
And I remember trying desperately to convince her that it wasn't something I wanted; but it was something we had to do. Obviously, no relationship could survive without trust. Her saying that only encouraged me to do what I did. We were sinking anyway. And it seemed like we'd never get back to where we once were. Despite my consuming love for her, I knew we couldn't go on. And it would've hurt less if she didn't look at me - with eyes full of tears- saying "You're right..."
Two words that echo in my ear to this day. And selfishly, I feel as if it would've been better for her to scream at me. For her to sob and say it wasn't fair. But for her to withdraw and not put up a fight....that knocked the wind out of me. Was she thinking about ending things earlier, like I did?
Because what I did wasn't some impulsive thing. I could never give up a girl like her at the drop of a hat. Never. I had contemplated it. Reflected on the possibility of losing her weeks prior. Tried to rationalize my heartbreak. Mentally prepare myself for an unavoidable hell. I fought tooth and nail with myself. Because was I crazy to want to let one of the best things in my life slip through my fingers so easily? Little did Mona know that when she called me, I was already hanging by a thread. Whether I want to admit it to myself or not, that night was my last attempt to fix us. That's why I wasn't ready to face the girl I loved. Because I feared what it would lead to. And it did: quicker than I expected. Perhaps I gave up too early. Perhaps I didn't give us time to work through the kinks. Or maybe,
It was for the best.
The first night without her, my body ached. My heart ached. My spirit ached. Everything ached. Quite literally, I thought I'd die. Knowing that I'd no longer be able to see her, feel her, kiss her, see her smile, show her how much I love her...hurt. For a while it seemed like my mind refused to believe what I actually did.
I did that. Though the media pushed the whole mutuality concept for the sake of both of our brands, I did that. I watched the color drain from her face as I sat there convincing her that we couldn't do this anymore. She wanted to stay. I made her leave. And though my heart still hates me for doing that,
It was for the best...Right?
The short phrase had settled me more times than I could count. It made the knife feel a little more bearable. To know I gave her the option to work on herself — that I didn't selfishly hold on to her, and contribute to her unhappiness—makes things a little... easier. I know I shouldn't be thinking about her nearly two years later. But at times, she passes through my mind. More like, she enters my mind, sits for a second and just stares at me through my psyche. I see her hazel eyes — and the pain the memory of her brings. But once again I say to myself,
It was for the best.
When she's tortured me enough, and gets up from the seat of my mind, I feel lonely again. And for months the bottle was my friend. He made the feeling go away. He made missing her a little easier. But lately I've been a pretty bad friend to him. And when she still passes my mind —mainly at times that catch me totally off guard — I see him on the third shelf, taunting me. Begging me to let him help me up again.
And for a while, I'll admit, I found temporary solace in the arms of another. And each time without fail, my heart would say: She isn't her though. And each of them probably knew by the way I couldn't fully look in their eyes without the irrational fear that if I did, my brain would scream that it wasn't her. Their touch felt foreign. Their lips: unparalleled to the ones that made me forget my name. I soon realized that I wouldn't find her there.
So, I stopped drifting. Mali and my three brothers were right there to bring me back to shore. Anchoring me. They've pulled me up, every time I sank in the thought of her. Every time my mind threatened to drift back to the middle of the ocean — an abyss that dragged me down into that feeling of despair. Performing helped some too. There was something about knowing that I had thousands of persons cheering me on. Thousands of persons rooting for me to get on that stage and just show up.
So, I do that. I show up. And even if somedays are harder than others, I show up. Because showing up was enough.
"Alright, I wanna see you guys move for this next song." Ashton says over the screams as the small intermission ends. "This one's .....for all the lonely hearts out there." And the crowd only seems to get louder as they catch on to the word play.
Even under all of the lights, I feel Luke's burning stare. He knew this song got to me each time we performed it. It was way too nostalgic. And never did I think a song would hit so hard to home like this one did. So yeah, sometimes my heart did go to my sleeve when we sang it. And I did choke up. But it was justified. I meet his stare and nod that I was okay.
Even if I wasn't.
