Endless Highway

Chapter 2

The car sped down the hill, he took his anger out on the gas pedal. He screamed and furiously punched the steering wheel. I lay in the back seat, listening to his ranting but stared up at the ceiling wondering what went wrong. He roared and I could tell he was crying, his screams became muffled by his hand. I soaked up his tears onto the sleeve of my sweater.I knew he didn't want to talk about it, and I respected that. I am dying, losing control of my body, and what soon one day will just be a tumbling mess. I wasn't expecting him to be fine with this. I was breaking his heart and I can't just pretend like it's nothing. I held him close, desperate to never have to let him go. I knew it was getting closer, it was near, the end. My body was losing control and my mind was growing weak. When I look in the mirror, all I can do is cry. My hair is starting to fall out in clumps. There's some of it left still, but not for long. My eyes are blood shot and shake as I look around. My fingers are becoming thin like the rest of my body, and the skin that surrounds me is quickly becoming pale. But he refuses to leave my side, no matter how hard I plead. I Try to break his heart, but I'm doing it for his safety. Instead of reminding him each day that I love him with all of my heart and will never leave his side, for he is the one. I remind him each day how much I hate him. My hatred towards him increases each day. I will never love him, he is the worst mistake I have ever made. I know none of this is true, but I am trying to unfall madly in love with him. Once my life is gone, he will be left alone, I need to give him time to move on, find another. He won't except that I will be gone soon. Breaking his heart hurts me more than slowly losing all control, but I feel like it is the only choice I have. See my point here is, loving him with the amount of time left would be amazing. For me at least. But for him it will only be more memories that will haunt him when I am no longer able to hold him. What he sees is "perfect", but what I see is an act of distruction. A total disaster and demolishing mess. Instead of turning heads because of beauty, I attract attention, they all know I'm a goner. I receive pity that I hate to hear. I'm not broken yet, just a small crack that's slowly spreading around, so that one day, when it's finally time, it'll be a clean break.