Painful Thoughts of The Hidden One (The Broken One Series #0.2)

High Tolerance for Pain

      Judge me not for those I never saved. I hurt for them. Him.

     Her eyes glistened with red, she would swipe and dot the water away. Away, from her smooth cold cheeks. Carry the water, carry the tears, carry the pain. Her eyes rimmed with black, sparkled, the pain was evident, but her eyes so beautiful blinked it away. Her nimble fingers fumbled frantically for a brush, any brush would do. The smooth handle in her palm, the soft bristles on her cheeks. Away with the red spotted cheeks. Over the cheekbone, under the eye, the beautiful eye, across the cheeks. They all disappeared, almost as if they were never there. Her eyes looked from the brush, into her reflection, she stared at the image and it stared back. The bristles continued. Under the eye, smooth and then gone. Her eyes had dried, the red was gone, and her smooth cheeks were flawless. She stared at her reflection daring it to question. And then she went back into the world. Almost as if she were never even there.

      I have always had this abnormal ability to feel pain. You may be thinking, "Everyone feels pain." I mean, obviously. But I could always understand other people's pain. I could feel it, not like empathy or sympathy but real raw emotion inside of me like it was my own. I could feel other's pain. And I did not know why. It was an oddity to me. "I have never felt any huge loss. No family troubles, no personal harm, nothing." That's what I had said to myself. Nothing. Man was I ignorant.

     "Perhaps I had lost someone I deeply loved in a past life," I reasoned with myself. I didn't believe in god, heaven, or the Holy Spirit but this seemed rational to me. Why else? Then again I was clueless...

      I had still felt normal pain. Pain for me. Selfish pain. I thought no one could understand. No one could notice. No one could care. No one could fix me. No one could feel my pain. Of course I was superficial, I was selfish, I was an absolute idiot, I couldn't understand real pain...

      All of my life he was there. He couldn't cease to make me smile. Just seeing him made my world go round. I wished he would talk for me. I wished he would be around more for me. I wished he could help me. I thought he could fix me... But I could never understand.

     I saw him all the time. Him with his brave smile, him with his sweet-talking, him with his comforting arms, him with his joking around. He was the one who would always help me. Then he wasn't around as much. That was when I was hurting the most. I had no right. I thought he could fix me. I thought I was broken. He was broken. And I hadn't even noticed.

    He was always hurting, all those years. Abuse. Violence. Pain. Those were the words that came to mind when I even thought of what he had been through. Him with his cuts and bruises, him with his broken gaze, him with his always being here but never being here. Every last cherished memory came back and hit me in the face and burned me. Scalded me. Everything I had once loved made me hurt all over. How could I not have known?

       I had lived it. Day by day, I saw pain, I saw the one I loved most suffer. I was just too dumb to notice. I felt pain. I felt all this pain and I couldn't know why? I couldn't feel it in the way his tender hugs turned to shakey goodbyes. I couldn't see the way he had always needed my help. Help. I asked for help. I felt broken. Of course that was before I knew he was broken. Perhaps I had already known. Maybe I ignored it like everyone ignored me.

      Six green and white text messages from seven years ago brought me here. Brought her here. Her with her broken eyes and her smooth cheeks. Her with her tears that seemed like they were never shed.

Sincerely,

Agnes.  The ignoring blubbering idiot.