Nothing is Fair in Love and War ✓

Chapter 14. Like Mother, Like Daughter

I let go of my pen and start to sob. It's been three days since Sam has left, and I'm still as distraught as ever. I'm not sure if I want to cry my eyes out again, or punch something as hard as I can. Again. So, I end up doing both. I cry hard and slam my fist down on the desk, standing up.

"God, damn it!" I yell. "Why did you take him from me?!"

I'm just waiting for things to go wrong, for him to be dead. Even though it's only been three days, I'm worried sick about him, and it's getting worse and worse. I just want him back. I feel distraught, waiting here, all alone.

I feel so depressed, so sad, so alone. I can't do this, I can't go on like this, sitting around waiting for something to happen. I feel so helpless, because I can't do anything to help him, I can't bring him back. I can only wait. Waiting is so painful. I'd rather be in action than wait. I'd rather be the one fighting than the one waiting. At least then I could feel I was at least slightly in control, and I would know what was happening when it was happening.

My crying starts to lesson, and I blink away the tears. I close my eyes and press my fists into my eyes, trying to stop some of the pain that comes with tears. I carefully open up the drawer in my desk, now feeling fragile instead of angry, and add the last pages of my story to the stack. I carefully make the stack of papers neat and set them inside of my desk again. I'm still not sure what I'll do with it, but it feels like it could be important somehow. So, I keep it safe, and wait for the purpose to be revealed later.

I haven't come out of my room in three days. I haven't eaten, I've barely slept, I haven't read. The only thing I've done in the past three days besides think is write for the last hour. I only weep and dream about those dark blue eyes staring into mine, and the last, beautiful night we had together. And of course, there are the frightening images that flash before my eyes of the battlefield, and him being killed.

I sit back down, feeling lightheaded and weak. I know I should eat something, but I can't bring myself to. I can't bring myself to do anything. I could barely pick up the pen and force myself to write. Though I knew for some reason I had to finish that story. I'm still not sure why though.

I run my hands through my hair and pull it away from my face. I take my hands away from my hair and let it fall back into my face in the clumps it's become. I am gathering my emotions back up and locking them inside of me, and for a moment, I think it's working. I start to feel a little better inside, like maybe the dead parts of me are starting to feel not as broken.

It doesn't last for long. My mind starts to show me images of him laughing, his voice, his eyes, his smile, his kiss, his love. I want to sob, but I find I can't. I can't shed anymore tears at all, none at all. I've done all the crying I possibly can in a life time. The only other time I think I could ever cry would be if I found Sam again. But those would be tears of joy, tears of overwhelming happy emotions. No more tears of sadness, of pain, of loss, of grief. I can't do it anymore. I might as well be a dead person walking around, I can't feel anything anymore. All the emotions are gone that I ever felt. No, that's not true, the old emotions I felt for him are still alive, tucked into the bad of my mind, and I somehow can't access them. As long as he's not with me, I can't feel what I felt ever again. I loved him so much it took up almost all of my emotional capacity, and when he left, that part of me and more died. I am in a temporary emotional vegetative state, and don't even want to feel anything again, for fear my heart will be broken, something I never want to happen again.

~

I don't want to speak. I don't want to eat. I don't want to sleep, I don't want to feel, I don't want to do anything but wait. Wait for him to come back to me. And so, that's what I do. I wait. And wait. And wait for him to come back to me, though my wishing and my pleading won't bring him back, I still try as hard as I can. I even goes as far as praying to God one night, who I have shunned for the past nine months.