The Space Between You and Me

PART FIVE

unedited

They were beautiful; lips dusted lightly with the colour of the sun as it hits the horizon on a summer afternoon, nose splattered with constellations, eyes full of admiration and love at you. Is that what I looked like when I looked at you? They radiated happiness, seeping out of their skin and coating all in its path. You laughed lightly at something they said, a hand on their back as they stumbled from the sheer weight of the bags in their hands. They were the kind of beautiful that made you look twice, the kind of beautiful that caused the stars in the sky to shine brighter in the hopes of gaining their attention, the kind of beautiful that mimicked your own. The kind of beautiful that I lacked. I was the snow, the hail, bitter and cold, whilst they were the sunlight, the breeze on a spring afternoon, light and warm.

And they hadn't noticed me yet.

I diverted my gaze to the carpet by my shaking feet, but I couldn't keep my eyes off of this stranger. They shone like a thousand solar systems. Why did my body keep shaking? I was a bundle of nerves. Did they hate me? Did they pity me? Did they even know about me? I wouldn't blame you if you didn't tell them about me, I wouldn't want to tell them about me either.

You leaned forward and whispered in their ear. They frowned, the expression out of place on their sculpted face as they turned to you and said, 'they're here?'

You nodded, biting your lip and their bright smile graced their face once more. They placed the bags in their delicate hands on the floor beneath their feet, dusting their fingertips on their dark jeans. They said, 'I want to meet them', and you smiled, teeth glistening as you muttered the three words that I spent years praying to hear fall from your lips once more. You were happy, which I think is what hurt the most. You were happier with this stranger, this beautiful, beautiful stranger, than you were with me.

They cleared their throat and entered the room in which I was seated, footsteps barely making a sound, as if they floated across the floor. I bit my lip. The taste of blood lingered on my tongue. I could still feel your fist on my cheek. Did they hate me? I pressed my eyes shut.

I felt the cushion underneath me shift slightly as they daintily placed themselves beside me. They were quiet for a second, the only sound in the room our quiet breathing, before they said in their soft, song-like voice, 'hello, I'm Arden'. I stayed quiet, picking the chipped nail polish on my fingertips. 'Dana has told me a lot about you, and I guess I have to thank you,' they continued and I frowned, opening my eyes once more to catch a glimpse of their perfect face in their perfect house. They must have been joking, why would they want to thank me? I had tarnished you, poisoned you, led you to the Devil and laughed as he dragged you further into the depths of hell.

They smiled softly, eyes glistening ever-so-slightly. I asked, voice raspy, 'why would you want to thank me?' and they replied, 'has Dana not told you?'

I turned to my gaze to you, my frown deepening. You returned to your seat across from me, from them and said, 'I was just about to', and I licked my dried lips, searching for what you could possibly want to tell me.

'Dana', they rolled their eyes. You hunched forward, shoulder blades protruding from your back as you replied, 'it's not that simple, Arden'.

What wasn't that simple? What had you been hiding from me? The questions whirled in my mind, bouncing, twisting and turning. We had never kept secrets from each other, not once, we were always honest, always open, never afraid. But you had kept something from me. Did you mean to?

'We met each other when I was looking for you,' you said in a hushed tone. Was there guilt in your voice? 'Arden was living in your old place. At first I thought it was you.'