The Beginning of the End (Editing)

Twenty Five : Fresh Air

May 03rd

Entry #46

to the girl in my reflection,

who do you aspire to be?

do you let the fire burn you too?

have your dreams been stolen by heartbreak?

so selfish,

hopeless.

lend the boy your broken heart,

pray he can fix your broken soul,

not with liquor,

not with drugs,

make you feel it,

don't ignore it.

when the lion roars,

run towards it,

like the boy who holds your heart

he will tame the beast that roars,

for when your heart roars,

he holds it.

- El

Mom and I sat down for hours when I got home. We talked about everything- both of us did. It's easier to talk to her when she's drunk, and even easier because she's sad. It's like she was softer, sweeter, like a hard candy turned into a marshmallow; a sad, soggy marshmallow.

Yesterday afternoon Dad called while I was at the hospital, and apparently it was just as any other conversation has gone. He was apparently being kinder to her though, which she thought was off, so when he hung up she called again about an hour later. When she called, a woman answered the phone, and when Ma asked who it was, she said she was Dad's girlfriend.

And so, Ma removed his contact and began drowning her sorrows in her wine cabinet. Like mother like son I suppose, and she cried to the sound of never-ending phone calls as she began to try and call mine.

She needed me, but I was too busy being selfish.

How ironic.

I told her that I was sorry, and that I've been trying to make my own wrongs right. And for once in a long while, she understood me. I was able to talk about Eleanor without being criticized for it, and she supported me. She even went to the extent of saying that she felt sorry for me, and that Eleanor is beautiful, and that she's always been fond of El but couldn't accept it.

"You know Kyle, I'm only hard about Eleanor because she reminds me of me when I was your age," She slurred as she sipped the water I gave her. "I just wanted to party and live but I did it the wrong way, and thank god I found your father, he set me straight."

After saying that, she cried more. She continued to tell me between tears how she didn't like Dad at first because he was nerdy, she didn't want that kind of baggage weighing her down. She said that she only gave him a chance at the senior prom he didn't ask her to. Her date left her alone in the corner of the room for a girl with more skin showing, and Dad swooped in. Apparently, he made it one of the best nights of her life. But then she cried and cried more until she fell asleep on our sofa.

What she said opened my eyes, do I weigh Eleanor down? I've only ever wanted the best for her, maybe I should have just been letting her live a little more freely. I shouldn't have been so dick-ish about Lochie. Would that have made things better?

Who knows really, any one thing could have been done differently and it could have changed the whole course of time following it. Hell, if Eleanor's parents didn't pass away, she might have been a lot happier. She wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have met her. She wouldn't be in a coma.

If Dad didn't swoop in and save Mom, I may not even be here. I wouldn't have to deal with life and all of it's fucked-uppiness. Because my God, is life fucked up.

So fucked up that Ma is passed out on the couch because of a broken heart.

Now I'm walking and I don't know where I'm going, but it's raining and it's slowly becoming darker. Eleanor's fucking journal is still in my jacket, and I don't know whether to read it or not. I don't know if I'm even ready to know what Eleanor really thinks about everything.

It's scary to think that I could have the answers to everything right in my jacket pocket. Anything and everything could be in it, and by what Harry was saying yesterday I feel like I'm gonna learn a lot that I may not want to know. The mere thought of all the things she could have possibly written makes my palms sweat.

"Hey Kyle!" I hear Harry yell, and look back to see him running towards me. I stop in my path.

"Wait up!" He yells again, and by the time he's next to me I can hear his heavy breathing over the sound of he rain hitting tin roofs. Slowly, he catches up with his breath.

"How're you?" He questions and begins to walk, I follow him slowly.

It's weird to think that two days ago, I hated the idea of him.

"Kind of shit actually," I abruptly reply. He looks at me and brings a hand from his pocket, gesturing for me to continue. "Mom and Dad split up last night."

He just looks at me for a second, then to his old muddy converse, then back to me.

"That is kinda shit, isn't it?" He mumbles, shaking his head lightly in disbelief. "Married?" He continues.

"Yep, I don't know what's gonna happen now though, Dad's not even here." A sigh leaves my lips. How fucking miserable of my father to cheat on his wife while half way across the fucking world.

"Wait what? Where is he?"

"New Zealand." I mutter, shoving my hand in my jacket pockets.

"What the fuck? What a cunt," I can see at the corner of my eye that Harry is looking at me, but I don't want to look up at him. I don't wanna do anything. Or be around anyone. I just want to be alone and feel alone because shit is just getting a little too much for me.

"Yeah, a big cunt." I spit.

I don't say anymore, and I don't think he wants to either. I hope he knows I'm not really in the mood for anything at the moment. Well, really, when have I ever really been in the mood for anything.

So I continue walking, and he follows, and I find myself sitting in a familiar place. One of the last places I went with Eleanor. But this time, Harry is sitting next to me. And the sun which is setting can't be seen behind the dark grey clouds, and the thunder of waves crashing against the shore is louder. Wilder. The sand isn't light beneath my feet because of the fucking rain and everything is just fucking fucked.

It's all fucked.

"It really is isn't it?" Harry gently mumbles, leaning back on his arms.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yeah, but I couldn't agree more," He states, inhaling the fresh air deeply. I mimic him, and the feeling is fresh.

It's the feeling of breathing so much pollution that I forgot what it's like to really breathe. To be able just sit, breathe, and feel alone in a good way. Even with Harry here, there's something peaceful about being able to sit and breathe for once.

"Give me the journal," He asks, sitting up better and folding his arms over his bent legs. "I want to show you something."

I sharply inhale the ocean air and freeze. I don't want to. Not yet. Not here with him. I just don't think I'm ready to be bombarded with all of Eleanor's truths. Lord fucking knows her truths could hurt me like a motherfucker.

"I don't know.." I mumble in barely a whisper. To think I was enjoying the peace of mind I had for those few minutes. "I don't really think I'm ready."

"No one's ever ready, Kyle," He responds, nudging me a bit. "I'll be here to answer all your questions."

"What're you showing me?" I ask cautiously.

"You bought her here a lot, and her last entry talking about this place is.." He pauses, staring at the sand briefly.

"Is what?" I push a little.

"I just think you're going to need me."