Guilt

The beginning of the end

Dear You,

Everything is in the eyes. Your eyes say things that words cannot- they contain all the things you wish you could voice but wouldn't ever have the courage to.

Yours are blue with minuscule flecks of green & gold dotted around at random. It was like looking into the world- your every own globe contained right inside of you. One long look can be enough to draw anyone in. It's like spinning in circles for a long time and then trying to catch your breath: the world is spinning but not, and your eyes are still reeling an hour later. Never has a pair looked so deeply into someone's soul. Yours can make people forget what they were going to say, cause people to feel things that they had never really considered before.

Eyes cannot be persuaded to look a certain emotion. That's the true, raw beauty of eyes: they're so exposed and can never hide strong feelings that you yourself couldn't admit to.

Yours are exquisite in that sense too. Your eyes go hard when you're angry or seeing something that you don't like. They flash with pain when you are hurt or let down and both will infinitely be the reason I fell in love with you.

Watching you do 'the eyes' to someone else, the eyes that were previously saved privately for me confuses every inch of my brain. Is it not the flash of envy that gives me away? Like you, I cannot hide anything beyond my eyes either. I am an open book because of them and dear God, I so wish it were different.

I think it's time I remind you of our doomed story, starting with the beginning of the end. By the time our story is through, I hope all guilt you have numbed yourself to comes flooding back out into your bloodstream again. I pray to the Heavens above that when I'm gone, you suffer for all you did.

I'd had you all to myself for a while and I understand that I should be grateful for all the time we shared. But everyone knows that timing can be a real bitch and yours couldn't have been more of a cow. My 8 year old sister had just been diagnosed with leukaemia; my world had come crashing down within two frantic phone calls and the reading of one piece of paper. Something that I had taken for granted before became forbidden. Our cuddles in the dead of the night became strictly taboo- chemo began briskly and she was like a fragile feather: one squeeze too tight felt like it could snap her in half and she was weak. Scarily weak. Her hair was falling out in ugly but adorably fluffy clumps and she used to sob with every handful that loosened its way out of her scalp.

I needed you for emotional support: seeing my baby sister being so scarily ill and tormented made me a wreck.

That first week, I kept calling you and calling you but there was never any reply. This was unusual. We used to talk on and off from when we woke right up into the early hours of the morning; to suddenly hear nothing from you for a complete cycle was a little scary.

The more I was around my sister, the more I wanted to crawl up in a ball under my duvet and sleep. I had to get out of the house.

I remember calling you again on the train to the park, leaving my 34th message on your voicemail. I slumped on the ice-cold swing, staring into space and wondering when the world got so grey. Just as I had begun to wonder if it was just me who was draining the world of colour, my phone sprang to life & for the first time in ten days, your name popped up on my screen.

"Hello?" I breathed, wondering if I had just imagined your name.

"Hey baby, I'm sorry I just got your calls," Your sweet, sweet voice sang inside me and a small sigh of relief to hear you talk swept through me.

"my phone's been missing and I've been a little busy lately."

Missing? That thing never left your side. There was no way you could've lost your phone for a whole week and not found it. And too busy to figure out that something was up? I frowned, wondering how many times you'd rehearsed that lie.

"Okay, well something terrible happened at home and I needed you. I'm at the park, can you come and meet me? Please? I really could do with a hug right now." Only once the words had left my throat did I realise how clingy they made me sound, but I think I deserved a bit of comfort and sympathy at that time.

There was silence for about twenty long seconds, and a crackling sound rang in my ears from the speaker.

"Hello?" I checked the screen to see if the call had ended.

"Hey sorry, I can't come over I've got family over. See you soon, yeah?"

The line went dead. I pressed the phone against my ear, not caring if it indented my cheek.

"Bye," I whispered into it, and switched off my phone.

Even then, I felt as if I had done something to upset you. You should've been there. But I realise now that you never really were.