Crests and Troughs

Heavy

Song of Chapter: Hard to Love| Hamzaa
~~~

Jeremy left your place the next day in a cloud of grey.

"Thanks for taking me in," he looked like he was about to cry. He probably didn't think he was worth your time or energy but sill wanted it because human nature is selfish.

You didn't think you could convnce him - or yourself - that he was, even though you were grateful for the temporary relief from the constant haze of solitude you've been living in. So, you gave him a pitiful tight-lipped smile which probably made him feel like shit and sent him off with, "My door's always open."

You watched him walk down the corridor and disappear down the stairs and sent a silent prayer with him. You really wanted him to feel better.

As you locked your door you felt a presence come over you. It wasn't a divinity or anything like that. Maybe it wasn't even a presence at all. It was more of an absence. You felt lonely again. You hate that feeling. It's almost like withdrawal. You get a bit of relief then, when you're alone again, it's harder to ignore the aching because you got comfortable in the company of someone other than yourself.

It was pathetic, really. What you were going through. Because you are literally liked by everyone. You're so beautiful. You're so smart. Damn, girl. You're adorable. You're voice is sweet. You're a fucking genius. If I had you're voice I'd never shut up. You're so cute. Gyal, yuh body good. Yet, they all keep their distance. I mean, you've shared intimate - most times platonic - moments with people when they need to vent or at night, curled up in a corner with throw pillows but it's never lasted. Except with Lèyon.

Léyon is you're best friend. She's your angel. She's the only person who's stayed around you long enough to understand you.

It's ironic, really. You two are supposed to be enemies based on how everyone separates the Arts from the Sciences. She is the definition of a humanitarian. And she's argumentative and honest and smart and your second favourite person. You'll get your favourite person's story later. You're not ready for that yet.

You, on the opposite side of the spectrum are a die-hearted scientist. And, no! You don't want to be a doctor. That's just not for you. You're an environmentalist. You're a planetarian, if anything. Don't get yourself wrong, though. You are passionate about feminism, you despise rape culture, you're definitely not asexual, immune to emotion or non-scientific belief. Science is a large part of your identity but it isn't solely you. However, you really love Earth and will do everything in your power to save it.

Léyon doesn't give a flying fuck about that. You think it's because of the doomsday portrayal of the climate crisis. Whilst that portrayal is accurate, it just makes it easier for a lot of people to place it in the back of their minds. She does live in an environmentally friendly way, though. Because it makes you happy.

And just like that, you don't feel so heavy anymore. You're scrolling through the moments you've shared with your angel and this warmth effervesces in your belly and chest.

You miss her. You really do.

*

You're lying down in a cocoon of warmth. There's a body next to you. A familiar one. She's beautiful. Her perfect bow lips are full. Her cheeks round as apples and dotted with pigmented blemishes. Her eyes are big. Not like Tim Burton's dolls but more bug-like. Her skin is half a shade darker than yours and her fingers, those of a pianist.

You begin to lightly stroke her outer ear and you're wondering if she's awake. You voice your wonder. Her eyes flutter, her nose scrunches and she mumbles a short, "Hmph?"

"Alright, I'll leave you alone."

You turn your back to her and drape her arm over your torso because you always want to be close to her. She's the only person who knows the current and true you. She's the only person who's willingly stuck around long enough and who's made an effort to know you. And she loves you. She loves everything about you. Even the things she doesn't identify with or quite understand.

You wonder what compelled God to allow you to know someone like her. To be able to call her your best friend. To know that your love is mutual.

You wonder if this is the greatest love you'll ever know for yourself. You wonder if you'll ever know a stronger love with another being. You wonder if you'll ever know a love that compares to it. You wonder how long this love will last.

Léyon has always talked about the future as if you'll share your lives forever. But, you always think about what you would do if she was no longer a part of your life. It gets depressing, really. But, you still do it because you know that life will shit in your face and call it chocolate cake. You don't think life has ever done that to you but that's what makes you so scared. What happens when your silver platter is removed from your mouth? What happens when you're kicked from the table and meant to beg for scraps on all fours? You're so terrified that life will just get harder and harder as you get older but there really isn't much you can or want to do. You see, you're a lazy fuck. And, there is no power but yours and God's that will change that.

You feel Léyon burrow her foot beneath yours and you shiver at how cold her feet are; they're always frigid. And, you wonder if you'll ever know someone else as intimately as you know her.

You feel guilty at times that you always think about other people when you have her. You feel greedy because you always want more even though you think you shouldn't. Sometimes, when you tell her of what you want in a boyfriend, she goes, "Am I not enough?" And, she plays it off as if she's joking but you can't help thinking that she means it and that you don't love her the way she deserves to be loved. You think you're not enough for her. She deserves so much more than you. She deserves to love and know blazing, undying love. She deserves to be fire-proof. She deserves to know oceans of ecstasy and satisfaction. She deserves to know heaven through her sins.

"Hey." You're startled by the voice that's roused you from your dream and pissed at the hand that's perched itself on your upper back.

You hear the voice again,"Class ended a while ago and Frank's about to close the planetarium."

You groggily pack up your things and head out the door mumbling a hoarse thanks to Myari.