"The heart was made to be broken."
― Oscar Wilde
Coming back to this town was hard it looked the same as when I left. The street and places all the same as when I left the only difference was the roads that use to be cracked are all paved and the lines aren't faded.
"Thanks," I told the cab driver as I handed him the money.
I don't know why I came back this was a bad idea he was probably with someone. It was stupid after all this time the town sweetheart was back. I began my walk back to my mother's house hopefully, she was sober.
"Alex?"someone called out.
I froze, it hadn't even been five minutes and someone recognized me, I slowly turn around hoping and praying its not him. I look at the person who called me and can't help but smile.
"Drew," I say, before I know it I'm in my brother's arms.
"I missed you," I say.
"I missed you too" he replies.
"Is he still here?" I ask he's the only person I can trust to ask this .
" He never left" he answered.
I shouldn't have felt so relieved but I did, I felt like I had a chance but a certain part of me knew that I probably wouldn't.
"Take me home please" I asked.
" Alright"
He grabbed my bag and walked to his truck. I took a moment to take a look at the shops and one stood out.
Chris's Tattoo & Piercing
I couldn't help but smile he did it he followed his dreams while I ran. I was proud but sad at the same time.
"He's happy right?" I called out to Drew.
"If that's what you call what he's doing" he snorted out.
"What do you mean?"I questioned
"He gives people tattoos and then drinks he's night away" he answered.
I felt my heart breaking I did this, I left him broken and alone and I didn't even look back because in the back of my head I knew what I was doing and I didn't stop. I walk to Drew's truck and got in. The whole time I'm thinking how much I fucked up and how I can probably never fix it. I broke mine and someone else.
"She sober" was all Drew said as we pulled into my childhood home. The odd site of my mother on the porch smiling. She looks good and healthy, I noticed that her clothes are different. She's not wearing one my Dads shirts, she's wearing jeans that fit and a summer blouse. I liked it I'm proud and I never thought I would say that about her.
"Mom, you look good I like it," I tell her.
"This what sober looks like" she jokes.
I hug her for the first time in years and it feels good.
"I missed you," I say.
We sit there hugging until we decided to go inside.
"I didn't change your room I left it how you left it," she told me.
It's like deja vu being here. I look around the room and I see the picture of him and I, my brother and I, and my friends. I remember these memories but they feel like a lifetime ago. I look to my bed and there sits the box of his clothes that I left. I walk over to it and dump it on my bed. The shirts that he gave me when I was sick an the hoodie for when I got cold in class. I couldn't help the tears that fell. I couldn't look at it anymore I put it back in the box and carried it down the stairs.
