infinite.

Ⅰ: Forever

They were sitting in a circle passing around a bottle of wine and telling stories of their past. Of who they were. The sun was setting, but no one bothered to end their little party and go home to rest. Around the circle they were saying, explaining, gesturing all that they remembered. And it felt great for them to have finally found a group of people who were just as messed up, awkward, hopeful, dark, and a dreamer just as much as themselves. There were finally others who understood them and didn't judge them because they were just as lost as themselves.

The boy of her dreams started talking and she paid attention to every detail closely. She noticed the way he looked away from the group when he talked about his family. She could tell it was a sore subject. She saw the way his eyes glistened when he talked about his sister's death, and she noted how much it impacted him. His fingers twitched, and she desperately wanted to intertwine her fingers with his and squeeze his hand to keep his calm. But she knew that it wouldn't do any good for him. It wouldn't ease the pain. It didn't matter that everyone had a bad childhood and their own skeletons in their closet.

He was so set on the belief that he was alone even while he was surrounded by people - people who cared about him. He had kept all of this information bundled up, and he could no longer take it anymore. What he needed was release and that is exactly what happened. He told his group of friends everything because he was exhausted of carrying all of these weights with him wherever he went. He wanted to take a break. He wanted to roll his shoulders in relief. He wanted some peace of mind.

And everyone in the circle listened intently as he spilled every gruesome detail he ever witnessed, every foul word he ever heard, every beating he ever suffered. They were all aware that he had it rough especially her. She was painfully aware of his suffering, but he never allowed her to do anything about it. She hated the fact that she wasn't allowed to do anything, but loved him so much that she followed through with his demands hoping that one day he will be happy like he was when they were younger.

She missed him. She doesn't like this side of him. She knows he isn't like this, but his past refuses to let him go. It always has its tight grip on him nearly choking him to death. The thought of losing him was always there, and as the days passed by the chances of that becoming true was greater and greater. But she always kept the memories of them when they were alone at the deserted side of the beach vivid and alive in her mind believing that he will come back to her one day.

All of those conversations and games and teasing and star watching were as clear as the sunny sky to her. She remembered the rare moments when he would let his guard down and laugh out loud at something she had said. She could still see the crinkles at the endges of his eyes, the way he would clutch his stomach from the hearty laugh, and his lovely laughter that rang in her ears. She could almost grasp it. It was right in front of her, yet still so far away.

"You're so beautiful," he told her once staring up at the cloudy sky his arms underneath his head for support.

She was startled and looked at him eyes wide with shock. And as she stared at him she understood his deeper meaning of that sentence. Slowly her aura turned blue with sadness, and she replied with, "And you are so handsome."

He chuckled cynically, and she frowned at his pessimism. She never liked it when he spoke to her in that tone. It only made her yearn for his vivacious self that was there before life crushed it down to the size of a grain of sand.

She glanced down at the ground beneath her sadly until someone nudged her alerting her that it was her turn to speak. She looked up at the circle of her close friends and she smiled warmly at them relieved to know that they would never judge her. They would be there to comfort her when she needed it and she was thankful of that, but she wasn't the one who needed their attention.

She took a gulp of air before exhaling it all out. Feeling better about revealing who she was, she parted her lips until she changed her mind and stared directly at the boy who hid behind grins and smiles all of his life. She made sure that he was staring at her before she spoke, and she made sure that he didn't turn away from her like he has done lately. Her stare was unyielding and determined, and demanded to be acknowledged. And he sensed it. He didn't like it, but he still kept his gaze on her because he knew she was demanding it after being shot down time and time again by him.

"I was born on a stormy night. . ." she begun, and she kept going retelling all of her memories most of them of her and him, but she intended for most of her told memories to be about them because she needed him to listen. She needed him to understand. She needed him to see that what he was doing wasn't only hurting him but her as well, and he had no right to banish her from his inner thoughts because he needed her as much as she needed him. They were one, and they were always there for each other. They were there for each other from the starting line, and it was going to be like that when they both reached the finished line together and even after it, forever.