I Can't Make You Love Me

What Happened To Forever?

        I wake up screaming and with a thin layer of sweat on my skin. Taking in my surroundings, I curl into a ball. He isn't here. This isn't our bed, and I feel so alone. I've woken up due to this nightmare for the last six months now. A horrible replay of that devastating day. It's like it only happened yesterday. And when I woke up the next morning after what happened, well I thought it was all a dream. A cruel, hurtful dream.

Flashback
      I woke up to our empty bed and a note that went like this,
"Natasha, I expect you gone by this late afternoon. I shall not be here, so please leave after you are done packing. Everything you need will be given to you once you choose a new country to live. Thank you for everything. Actually, thank you for nothing.
                                       Sincerely,
                    The One You Don't Deserve"

          I swiftly packed my things and left to the airport. I wasn't going to let him see me crumble any further than I already have. He'll probably just laugh at my inner and outer turmoil. And it's so annoying, because all I ever wanted was a dress and a night off. I wasn't expecting love to come knocking on my front door.

         Except it did. And I thought maybe it was because it was my time to have happiness. But now it's all screwed over, I'm left heartbroken and without a person to call mine. With the small amount that I have and a couple of dresses I stole. (It's not like he going to need them.) I leave. I say bye to Anna, who's completely sobbing and makes me promise to stay in touch. And then I reach the big castle doors. It opens and as I walk out I slightly look over my shoulder.

All I can remember is James and I. How we met, how we danced the night away, how we danced on our wedding night. Such lovely memories now only bittersweet. As I walk out, I begin a new chapter of my life. One that I'm positively dreading.

End of flashback

     So here I am, in my new hometown of Puerto Rico. I chose this place because 1: my dad was born here, 2: I know how to speak Spanish, and 3: because I'm quite sure he doesn't come here at all. There's something about small islands he does not like.

       I live in a nice house on the beach. He was true to his word, he gave me a large sum of money that would last me my whole life and he got to divorce me. Lovely really. I was so foolish and naive to think that love would work. Look at how my stepmother used my father.

     The warm ocean breeze comes through the open window and my tense body relaxes a little. I've always loved the beach. The way the sand feels beneath your toes. The sound of the waves, the feel of the warm water embracing your body. It gives me the slightest feel of happiness. Sadly though, not enough to make me forget about the gaping hole in my heart.

It's around 3 am right now and I know I won't be falling back asleep. I can't deal with that nightmare again. Slowly getting up, I stumble my way to the back door and onto the sand. I've been doing this every night for the past two months. During the day I hide away in my lovely house. At night, I swim in the unpredictable sea. Sometimes hoping I'll just drift outwards until all signs of land is lost.

       Sliding into the warm water, I give a content sigh. I never really came out to the beach during the day. Too many people that I didn't want to deal with. Since our royal divorce, it seems like everybody is in an uproar. Wondering what could have happened to ruin such a lovely, blooming couple.

Most people blame me. Or they at least insinuate it. They must play me for a fool. I can hear all the muttered words. Feel the angered glares seep through my back. That's why I don't get out. I don't believe my fragile heart could take anymore rejection or cruel words. I might do something drastic.