Portraits of The Songs | BON IVER

I. Perth

He couldn't believe the tear that fell down his cheek. His face froze in mere disbelief. His eyes, his face, his own body betrayed him.

He was just standing there behind his shopping trolley, looking at them like the idiot that he was. His eyes fixed on hers, that fiery blue eyes cold as ice, slicing him down to pieces.

He didn't know when those eyes started looking him with coldness, when it used to acknowledge him in warmth.

"I'm sorry, Owen."

He had imagined her saying those words to him one too many times.

But she never did. She just glanced at him with that look on her face.

And he knew, she's not sorry.

He looked her over, arms curled around her soon-to-be-husband, yeah, he recognized that son of a bitch, as they got their own grocery, and he knew she'd moved on.

That's it. Simple. Just like that.

He honestly didn't know what he did wrong. Or maybe perhaps he had read everything in the wrong way in the first place. But either way it still hurt being dump like he was. If this predicament he went through could even be called 'dumped', that is.

He had believed her, one too many times. He had believed her too much, he realized, as the tight, stabbing feeling in his chest felt deeper and deeper.

They used to be inseperable. Grocery shopping together in this exact place, at this exact time of day, then went to spend the day chilling together by the shack they had found and claimed together as theirs.

He didn't know what to do with the place now, seeing as she no longer wanted to have anything to do with it anymore, just like with him.

He met her at the park on the outskirt of their small town. He was on his way to go hiking just like he used to do by himself to spend the weekend, seeing as he had practically no friends to spend anything with. She was there, swinging on the swing, keeping to herself, her eyes planted to the ground.

Out of curiosity he had checked her out, making sure she's not some depressed girl planning her suicide, or worse, zoning out enough to let herself get kidnapped. And then she looked up and their eyes met.

He remembered he looked away from her, but she already caught him looking, and now she's the one thinking he's some weird kid planning to run away, so she tagged along with him. All the way deep into the forest, his once safe haven.

She was ridiculously talkative. She wouldn't stop at nothing to make himself opened up, telling him it's stupid if you're planning to run away to the woods where there's practically no form of entertainment to humor you. He told her to fuck off, but she just snorted at him and started telling him about herself.

She was twenty six, he noted as he listened to her more and more.

He was fifteen and she was twenty six.

And it turned out she was sitting alone at the park because she was just bored. Nothing more, nothing less.

And then stories after stories after stories, they were both lost track of where they're going and ended up being lost deep in the woods.

"You're something else, kid," she had said then, "You ran away to the woods, got lost, and you're dragging me into it. What a screwed up plan."

"Never asked you to tag along," he spat, none too nicely. She scoffed, before continuing on another stories that he couldn't help listening even when he wanted nothing more than ignoring her.

"Hey!"

She slapped his arm when he just walked ahead without saying anything. He'd never went to this part of the forest, but by the small stream that they found a few miles ahead, he knew they must be somewhere north. They could head back following the stream, he'd been to the upstream before.

That night they found the old shack sitting by the stream, and spend the night together there. Him, being quiet, listening to her ranting about whatever it was going on inside her head.

And that was the start of their routine. Meeting up at the park friday afternoon, to the shack, and back by sunday afternoon.

He didn't know why but he found himself opening up to her, more and more as they spend more time with each other. Something which now he knew, was the wrong thing to do.

And then add their usual grocery shopping together before heading out to the shack and their endless phonecalls with each other, which usually was more like her calling him to wake him up for school annoyingly enough, and he was hooked. With her.

That. And the kiss.

God, he didn't know how even more stupid he could be, but no it was not by him. She was the one kissing him out of the blue. Or more like a peck. Because he's too stunned to react to anything, and she's too fast to move away to his liking.

So yes, he had stupidly put himself into a shitty position where he was the one having a crush, and a not requited one at that.

It was three months later that he found out from her that she was getting married.

Yes, from herself.

Getting married to someone that wasn't him.

Stupidly, he had cried that time, at that shack after she told him. He tried hard not to but that single silent tear was just too stubborn to heed his request to keep still in his eyes. He said those stupid words and she had looked at him like he had grown two heads, spooked beyond belief.

"What the hell," she had said, no, more like yelled, before storming off.

It was at that moment that he lost her. And that warm blue eyes turned cold and judgy. Edgy towards him.

He was too used to having her around. Her endless chit-chatty. Her boldness. Her laugh, her smile. He'd been having her too much that it hurt to finally lost her.

But in the end, he still lost her.

He lost her.

His only someone.

She was still there and he lost her.

Alive, breathing, healthy and kicking. But he lost her.

Somehow that felt even worse than when his father died.

Because she was still here, but she didn't care. Not anymore.

He screamed out his frustration when he arrived at the shack.

That shack. The very place they used to share. The place that reeks of his memory of her.

He needed to get rid of it--

..so he burned it down.

What he knew (of her), what it was that they were, what she poured out--

He was angry. So angry.

Just like the flames engulfing the old shack he once called safe haven down, log by log. Turning it into nothingness. He turned her into nothingness too.

Breaking it to the ground.