It all started when a millionaire father asks his , Nope...scratch that
It all started when a millionaire father 'orders' his complex daughter who gets lost in her own thoughts to marry the son of his business partner . The key word here being compl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I get these moments when I sort of have to lie down... because things feel a bit too much. And I see the blue, the grey or the black and I feel myself melting into it and for like a minor second I feel free and happy and innocent.
Right now I could see black and little specks of white.
Nash had fallen asleep again. This time on the edge of a random highway that nobody went through. The gas station's flickering light had ultimately stopped blinking and died.
It was a peaceful dark and quiet. I wondered what would happen if everybody in the world came to a stand still just for five counts. I imagine the amount of silence and inactivity. It was calming.
Right now I felt like crying. So I did.
Wet drops slid down my cheeks and developed deep spots on my brown pants. I let out a loud sob...then another...then another.
I wasn't really crying because I was grieved, I was crying because I was tired of giving my thoughts the reign to my being. I mean was I really myself if I didn't even control myself?
Nash was awake now, He silently looked at me with no judgement or emotion on his face. I saw a flicker of something familiar in his eyes.
He slowly put his arms around me, and I lay my head on his shoulder. An unspoken agreement of comforting each other had been signed in between us.
My salt water rivers were slowly dampening his shoulder, but he didn't seem to mind. I had to talk, had to permit every thought that entered my mind out. Maybe if I was fast enough I could drain every particular one of them out and finally harbor thoughts of my own...
"Grief I have discovered is really just love."
I incline my head away from his shoulder and look him in the eyes. He doesn't ask what I am talking about or anything at all.
"It's all the love you desire to provide but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers up in the corner of our eyes, the lump in our throats, and in that hollow part of our chest."
He had started making idle patterns with his hand on the grass below us now. I focused on the movement of his hands. He slowly plucked blades of grass and flicked them aside.
"Grief is just love with no place to go."
He nodded. His voice sounded detached when he finally did speak.
"you know how when you're in a car and it's raining down, you go under a bridge and everything stops...Everything goes silent and it's almost peaceful."
He was staring into the distance now. I think he recalled someone. Maybe he was just as messed up as I was, or maybe he wasn't.
"But then you finally get out from under the bridge and everything hits you a little harder than before... I feel like I am under the bridge right now."
