His heat felt like it was about to fall out of his chest, breathing felt like struggling to hold his breath underwater, and every nerve in his body felt fried. Like he couldn't feel anymore, as if everything but his head and the thoughts and horrors floating around were dead.
Falling onto the soft blankets laid out on the bed, he stared up at the metal that held up above him, looking at how it shined in certain light, even twinkled.
Love... Love, four letters, such a simple word that was greatly underestimated. It became a word that didn't mean the same things it did back in the days when writing with pure black ink on paper was a magical experience.
Love had many meanings, versions, faces, and scars but what it didn't have anymore was true and romantic meaning. Not to him. Not anymore. The romantic motion of the word didn't mean anything to him and that one thought broke his heart.
His eyes began to close as warm tears fell down his cheeks like the way rain slides down a glass door.
The darkness seemed easier. It wasn't filled with stress and pain, it was filled with black and nothingness. The thought of holding his eyes closed as the warm tears chilled from the cool breeze blowing in from the window until finally it dried and he was left with nothing to prove the pain he had felt left him feeling more content.
As much as he wanted the feeling of his heart slowly ripping apart to stop a part of him knew it never would. A part of him knew the heart could never stop from hurting it simply just finds a new way to survive, to beat.
He could only blame himself for what had happened, for what had felt like a stab to the heart. A stab that dug deep and twist and turned. It was his fault, it had to be. It was always his fault, everything always fell back on his shoulders like bricks.
The man he was was nothing but a dark hole in the ground that slowly sucked up everything. He was a roller coaster, a ride so exciting and fun from the outside, so full of life. It's not until you get on the ride and realize you're trapped, the belts and buckles are latched so tightly you can't move or breathe. That's what he was, that's who he felt like.
Shutting his eyes tighter he let out a shaky breath,
"I'm sorry." The words hardly anything but a small choppy whisper.
YOU ARE READING
Unpredictable
Novela JuvenilCooper Floyd, front man to one of the biggest bands on the charts thought he had it all. Fame, money, girls, and most of all music. It was until his opening act ended up being the rivals to his band. The one band that was slowly taking his bands ter...