there goes my heart - j.s

chapter twenty one

[less than a week later]

I load the suitcase into the car boot, it lands with a thud. My left arm is still weak so I'm having to rely on my right arm more. My eyes flick down to my wrist, where, once there were bandages, now there are white plasters. I can see the edges of the the scarring at the end of the plasters and it makes my stomach twist about uneasily. If I use my arm too harshly, a stinging zap of pain shoots up it. So I try my best not to strain it. I try my best to be careful. I try to be aware of it but not think about it too much.

The night after I was discharged from the hospital, I didn't sleep. I couldn't. I stayed awake, sitting on my bed, a blanket draped over my legs and a cup of tea in my hand. At first I cried, a bitter, quiet cry. I let it out properly for the first time in a while.
Then I stopped and just thought about everything, not just thought, wrote, I filled pages and pages with everything I've been feeling for months. Everything that has happened and why it did.
I wrote a letter to previous self, I wrote one to my mother, then to Joe, then Zoe. I wrote one for my best friend that left and then one for my father who abandoned me. Then I ripped them all up, except for the one for Joe, I kept that. I folded it neatly and tucked it away.
I also kept the letter to my mum, then I called her, after checking she was awake at that time, and told her everything. I read out the letter to her and tried to keep my voice from trembling and cracking as she cried on the other side of the country. Then I told her my plan, and that as soon as I could, I would see her again. By the time I hung up the phone, cracks of sunlight were starting to shine through my curtains.

So I picked myself up took a shower. Letting the hot water cover every inch of me, washing away everything that has happened. I let the water run over my wrist patched in white plasters, no longer thick bandages, embracing the sting that came with the hot water.
After my body was completely pink from the heat and my bathroom was steamed up, I stepped out and dried myself off. I didn't have to change my plaster dressing yet, so I patted it dry gently.
Then I put on clean, dry, comfy clothes and made myself a cup of coffee. Not only that but I made myself cook porridge to eat. I didn't have much in my cupboards as shopping hadn't been a priority. As I drank my coffee and ate my porridge I made a list of things I needed to do. Zoe had always said how good a to-do list was, and now I believe her.

"Hi, um, to Heathrow Airport please," I shut the Uber door behind me and swiftly place my backpack on the seat beside me. A faint smile tickles my lips as I think about where I'm going and who I'm going to see.

"How's your day going Miss?" The driver spoke kindly.

"Good thank you, how about you?" I was never good at making conversation, but I can manage small talk.

"I'm very well thanks."

After writing my to-do list I sat by my window and watched as life passed by. I saw a family walking a dog, an old lady waiting for a bus, a stray cat wandering along the path. I watched life and admired the beauty of it. For the first in months I actually saw the world as it was. And I realised something. So much is beautiful beyond expectation, when you simply look at it with love.

I watch it now, passing by the car as I'm driven closer to the airport. I see an old couple holding hands and smiling at each other, it makes me smile. It makes me think about Joe. My heart aches to see him. But not long now.

I booked the tickets not long after my breakfast, sitting at my computer, sifting through different airlines and dates and prices. Until I found one that I could afford and that was soon enough. I felt good to click the button that booked my tickets; it made my heart flutter and squeeze.

My heart flutters now at the thought of seeing Joe. I nibble at my lip, and tuck my faded hair behind my ears. My legs won't stop jittering and neither will my stomach. Every inch of me is on edge, excited and nervous to be going to see him. I debated whether to surprise him or not, but I couldn't bare not to tell him. I need him to be waiting for me. I needed him to waiting for me to arrive just like I was waiting to see him. So I told him.