Half a Man at Best (Sequel to VALERIE)

Chapter Sixteen

Copyright © zylgnagnaba 2014

Valerie's POV

The sun is shining high above the firmament, sending kisses to my skin as I decide to bring my sketchpad with me down at the poolside.

Evonnie has been a little nosy about my complicated relationship with Harry. Although I didn't really mind her bugging me about it, I just really need to take a break from her talkativeness.

Don't get me wrong. I like her personality. She's really funny in a very awkward way and she does speak her mind. Oddly, I like that quality from people -- simply because I am that, maybe even worse.

I was about to let her share a room with me but I am glad that she let me see this mischievous side of her before that happens. Fortunately enough, Bree has missed her a lot so she let Evonnie stay with her.

The cabin has only four rooms available. Perrie and El are already sharing one.

Wearing a pair of white bikini under a black net-like shoal, I slipped into my black flipflops and my sunglasses were perched against the bridge of my nose.

I sit at one of the poolside plastic chairs. My feet are bent up as I lean my back against the recliner, just enough for me to see the pad while I am doodling.

Overlooking the square pool of blue water, my eyes wander around the area before I cast my head down to my legs where gleaming reflections of the sun from the water hit my skin.

It has been a little while since I last appreciate little things. It was as if the last couple of months, I forgot about breathing. I forgot the small things that remind me that I am still alive. I forgot that I even matter. I was too closed off within my shell, meditating on my imperfections and how my life turned out like hell.

For myself, I am a failure. Hell, I even failed to take good care of myself considering there was another life solely depending on me. I was the only chance of its survival but I failed.

Right now, looking at myself, somehow I am grateful that the rays are still able to touch my skin. It's a nonsensical reminder that I'm still existing in this cruel world, although I'd trade everything just to not be able to feel -- the pain -- again.

But not feeling would mean I'll be numb to everything and that's no way to live at all. I have learned that if you feel so much pain, that means you love greatly and hope too far.

I loved my child even though he/she had just merely developed his/her limbs and organs, even though I just barely felt his/her heartbeat. I had only imagined him/her having the same shade of green eyes like his/her father, light blonde hair like I naturally have, and he/she would have the same passion towards arts like his/her parents. Everything was perfectly set out -- I had hoped too far only to take a detour and start at the beginning again. Worse, it was a very painful beginning.

I wonder if I'd ever get to experience that taste of euphoria once again.

Part of me says I could, but the cynical side of me sadistically injects the thought that I'd only get hurt over again. And I'd never want to feel that pain ever again because that kind of pain is only halfway comparable to the feeling like you're slowly dying. I couldn't even imagine someone else going through the same situation as I did.

As I continue pondering about these things, my lips are a little bit pressed tightly as I concentrate on sketching. It has always been my escape from the real world, like my own kind of therapy. That was why when my Mom suggested that I should see a therapist, Dad has dismissed the idea. He knew I can cope with this traumatic experience on my own through Arts.