𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐨

Part 8 ~ Still Hurts

Charlotte's Point Of View ~

I take my car keys out of the ignition. I had to get away this morning. After last night, going out with Jasmine and talking to Tom at the club . . feeling so much guilt. I just woke up and needed to get away. I just went for a walk. Some peace and quiet, time for myself. I rub my tired eyes as I walk down our driveway. I didn't sleep very well at all last night. 

Oh man, I'm so tired. 

I keep thinking back to last night though. The feeling that I had inside myself as that guy was talking to me. That feeling that I somehow can't describe. The only simple way that I feel I can describe it is like my heart was hurting . . like my heart was crying because it knew he wasn't Michael. I did my best to ignore it, to pretend I wasn't feeling that way but I can't ignore that. There is no way to ignore grief like that. 

I suppose it was as simple as heartbreak, right? . . 

But yes, this morning I had to get away. I once again needed time to clear my head. I sigh in frustration to myself as I know for a fact that it's not the first time I felt like I needed time for myself to clear my head. It's just seeing Michael leave has just left me so broken. It has just burned in my brain . . and it's devastating. It's an image I can't get out of my head. And I hate that so much. I'm so scared, terrified even that I will never be the person I was before he left. And I want to, I want to so very badly.

I have never felt such grief after loosing someone. 

I'm fighting myself. I'm fighting for me to finally listen to others . . but I can't. But what I'm feeling is just too powerful. I just don't want any of this. I don't want to miss him, I don't want to loose sleep from it anymore. I don't want to cry anymore. I don't want to be this person. It's not who I am. I want to smile and laugh again, so hard that it would hurt my tummy or my cheeks. Not just pretend to do those things so that people around me don't ask me questions all the time. Of course my mum and my sister noticed but they are my family. They know when something is wrong, when something is bothering me to the point where I'm just quiet. I just feel different, so fucking different. I don't feel human. 

I feel like more of a ghost than people.

But I need to be strong. I need to keep going. I need to pick myself back up and I need to move on. I say this time after time but I always end up going back into the same way I have been since Michael left. But I want to mean it this time. 

I want to stop crying and craving him. 

When I look at a photo of him or just something as simple as the thought of him. I go back to missing him so much that it hurts me. I go back to isolating myself away from the world. I'm so frustrated with myself because I don't want to be this way. I know it's healthy . . maybe even odd to others. I'm sane enough to know that. I want to get my life back again. I want to be myself again. And I know that I'm the only person who can do that. I'm the only person who can help me. No one else can but me. 

I just need to do the best I can. When I'm broken, I'm a very fragile girl. I take things like that very hard and it takes a while for me to heal again. I know this of me. But Michael leaving . . that is defining me. But I can't let that happen. Why love someone? Why love someone else so much? All it does is hurt you . . love hurts. It still hurts. I feel it always will. 

I walk in, through the front door. But I see two large suitcases laying opened on the lounge room floor as I enter the room. My eyes scan each bag quickly as I think to myself, I'm left confused. 

Suitcases? But what for? . .  

Who is going away? . . 

What is going on here? . . 

I hear a voice from the kitchen that is yet another room away from this one. It's my mothers voice that I hear. 

"Charlotte honey, is that you? . . " She asks, yelling it from the kitchen. 

"Yeah it's me . . " I call back, still looking at the suitcases with a confused look on my face. 

I hear her stop immediately what she's doing. The sound of her footsteps as heard as she comes from the kitchen to the lounge room where I stand. I'm quite as I wait for her to speak first. I look at her, she looks at me. I point at the two large suitcases with my eyebrows raised as I wait for her to finally explain them. 

"Oh yes . . " She says softly with a little laugh in her voice. 

"Jasmine and I were thinking about the three of us going away for a few days . . " She finally says. 

"Where to though? . . " I ask, still confused. 

"Our holiday house, of course honey " . . She says smiling. 

I nod my head as I am finally informed with what's going on now. Thank goodness! Oh man. I think about it for a few seconds before I answer back. 

"You know what mum . . " I say, thinking for a second. 

" I think I'm going to stay here tonight . . " 

". . then I'll just drive up sometime tomorrow . . " I finish telling her. 

She just looks at me. 

"Mum, I'll be fine. I just want have tonight to myself . . " 

She comes to me and hugs me gently. Her arms wrapped around me protectively. She knows doesn't she? About last night with that guy, with Tom. I know my mum and my sister mean well. They know I'm struggling . . but I'm trying. Maybe that's why they were thinking of this sudden trip away. To just get away from things for a few days. 

"Alright honey, you'll be okay on your own for tonight? . . " Mum asks me. 

"I'll be fine, I promise . . " I say, reassuring her as best as I can. 

Mum and Jasmine get ready to leave, they pack the car and get ready for the two hour drive to our holiday house. I kiss both of them on the cheek and give them both big hugs. They say their goodbyes finally and drive off. The horn beeps, making me smile as I wave them off. I walk back inside the house. I'm hungry. It is 6pm, that means dinner time to me. I look in the cupboard and see what there is that I can eat tonight. Something easy. I boil the water jug and pour the pasta into the pot of boiling water that's sitting on the stove. 

Suddenly I hear a knock on the front door. 

Who could that be? 

I walk towards the window next to the front door and look out . . 

Oh my god, What the fuck! It's Michael. 

He's here. But what is he doing here? 

to be continued.