Blue 2

Chapter Thirteen

Back in the safety of my room, I strip out of my swimsuit and jump into the shower. The tears don't continue like I assumed they would. Instead, I concentrate on showering, the steaming water working out my tense muscles and clearing my head. I stay under the pounding water for as long as possible before my skin starts to burn and turn a reddish color. I step out of the shower and grab a towel off the rack next to the rain shower and wrap it tightly around my body. I tug on a simple white V-neck T-shirt and jeans, and let my hair hang loose down my back. I am surprisingly completely sane and tear-free as I move around the room getting ready, all until I step out onto the balcony for fresh air and close the glass door behind me.

I find a folded complimentary blanket on top of the wicker chair next to the wooden railing. I wrap it around my shoulders and bring my knees to my chest. I don't go back inside after several seconds of the cold air blowing my hair into my face. I just sit and stare at the snowy mountains in the distance. The snow on the warm wooden floor rises with the strong winds, swirling in the air and floating across my eyes. The wind is brisk and bites into the back of my neck, sending a chill down my spine. Since the weather is more frigid than usual, barely anyone is outside. The wind whistles in the silence and I feel transported to my own world as I close my eyes.

I still can't fathom Blue's logic in coming all the way here the second he knew I was here. There is no doubt in my mind he is only here to torture me, play round two in his terrible game. But couldn't he find another player? Doesn't he ever get tired of fiddling the same tune of lies, that he loves me and never wanted to hurt me? Everything we did, everything I felt, every moment we shared was a lie. A manipulation on his part. I can't believe he thinks I can actually forgive him. It was unlikely, but I wished to never see him again. Not seeing the face I trusted and admired would help me move on. But the moment I saw him, something in me clicked back into place and my feelings stirred back to life. A naïve part of me hopes he does mean what he says, that he does truly love me, back when he was playing his game and even more now that he lost me. But how can I believe than when believing in him caused my heartbreaking downfall? How can I trust anything he says?

While I was falling helplessly, irrevocably in love with him, he was thinking of ways to bed me and strip my virginity from me. Of all things he could have centered the game around, it was the one thing I thought I had control over. In another universe, I would have focused solely on my studies and dancing, then find a decent boyfriend after college, one I could truly trust, and give him my precious possession. Instead I fell in love with the one boy who made me feel like anything was possible and demolished that ideology, all in one go.

But the whole game and manipulation apart, I did love him as a person. Sure, he was stubborn, and reckless, and loved to make dirty jokes, and scramble my emotions around, but he was also the key to being myself. Being carefree, and loud with laughter, and smiling so hard my face hurts, and feeling breathless when I see him, and feeling at home and safe when I hold his hand. Loving Blue not only broke me but made me something worth crumbling into a thousand pieces with one blow.

I shed light on his eternal darkness, made him love the world he once hated because he loved me even more. I brought out the good in him, every last bit, but none of it was enough. Nothing will ever be enough, because there is no fixing Blue. He is going to stay broken and fucked-up for the rest of his life, and nothing I could ever do will ever change that, and for that I am sorry for him. I just hope he can stop long enough to think about how happy we were together and strive for our love in another girl who can help him when I couldn't.

When I finally go back inside after an hour of thinking, my hands and ears and frozen. I immediately put on my gloves and earmuffs before getting in bed, layering the feather duvet over myself. I grab the remote control off the bedside table to my right and click on the TV. The comedy sit-com friends appear on the plasma screen, in the middle of a laugh track as one of the friends' monkey turns on the radio. Weird. I've never seen the show, but maybe it will help take my mind off things. I rub my hands together and close my eyes, willing myself to sleep. I drift off into a cold slumber, only to waken at eight o'clock.