Decipher | Watty's 2017

LXIV. Cerulean

Cerulean

/səˈro͞olēən/

noun

a clear blue sky

I woke with a start to my body, hair sticking to my forehead as sweat continued to pour down my face. Despite my nightmares ending hours before I woke most mornings, my body still held much adrenaline and continued to release endorphins throughout my nervous system, causing me to rise in a drenching amount of sweat. Luke had been so nice about it, offering to change the sheets and never complaining of the smell if I refused; however, I knew that his concerns were advancing the more I lost sleep over the fear of closing my eyes.

The only reason I had continued in sleep is because my brain must have recognized my sleep deprivation, forcing me to rest until I was out of mortal danger. Even so, the rest I received put little to no dent into the amount of tiredness I felt as I lied in bed, keeping my body in the same position due to exhaustion.

"Did it happen again?" Luke asked, taking in my head's movement as I nodded, observing his sigh as his arms untwined from my body. He rose and knelt beside the bed, connecting his face with mine as he took my hand in his. "You know that you can talk to me, right?" he spoke, meaning his words sincerely as he stared into my eyes.

I simply nodded again, not speaking from the shock in my body. A sigh emitted from Luke's mouth again as he stood up from the floor, most likely annoyed at the fact he has had to sit there and comfort me for the past two weeks while I struggled with my inner demons. It was not his fault for the notions he had in his mind, for I had not told him the reasoning behind these night terrors.

"Melissa, I don't know what you expect me to do," he whispered, his hand running over his face in an exasperated tendency. "Why won't you tell me?" His voice was gentle and patient but I knew it was wearing thin as I took in the bags underneath his eyes. Nothing was more gut wrenching than watching the love of your life go through pain and only be concerned of your well-being.

Tears escaped my eyes as I took in his reaction. At first he looked shocked, then his face turned cold as if he were mad that I hadn't opened up before but now I could. Next, it turned to a compassionate look that convinced me that the hatefulness had not been from him but only the sleep deprivation.

"I'm not myself," I confided in him, noticing how his eyes softened and arms immediately went around me as he lulled me back to serenity. "Can we have a day with the boys?" I asked him, feeling the salty tears cascade down his shirt while gripped him tightly as though I wouldn't survive without him holding me.

"I need to be that bad ass girlfriend you love again," I told him, enjoying his laugh that filled the room as he agreed to get the boys in the lounge for a day to catch up.

"I'm going to go get them if you want to get ready love," he whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on my cheek as I smiled back at him before he left the room with a smile covering his face. Maybe to him this was my first step in recovery, but I knew within myself that this may not help anything except dull Luke's worry.

I stood up with a slight wobble from the distress my body was in due to the lack of sleep. My hands fumbled with the small chest as I searched through my clothes for something to wear before finally settling on a tee shirt and jeans, my normal outfit. As I slipped out of my pajamas in front of the bathroom mirror, my eyes went towards my stomach. Despite it never expanding to form a bump, my eyes still made one up as I looked at my flat stomach in the mirror, touching it as if it would bring back my child.

Deciding that this was no way to cope, I threw my tee shirt over my head to cover up the painful memory that Luke and I would never have tiny children running in our house after this war. The fact that I was never able to give him anything that he wanted. Nothing was more painful than knowing that ever since we met I was unable to give him what he wanted.