〚FEATURED〛
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"My pick-up lines are great."
"Yeah, and I have a pet llama."
"You do??"
"No, idiot."
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Arc-en-ciel (n.): Rainbow
He's the perfect example of a thundercloud. He's rude, grumbly, and frightening to most- ready to harshly rain dow...
if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches
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TW: this chapter deals with sensitive topics
A N N A B E T H
The last one week had been a blur.
I was back on sleeping pills this week. And some others, with names too long to remember. My brother had insisted, despite my protests.
Sure, what had happened a week ago- broke my heart. It really did.
But that wasn't it.
Yes, I missed it. I missed him. Every time I thought back to the three weeks I had been there, it reminded me of everything.
But there was more. What happened with him wasn't the only reason. It was simply because it was this very time of the year. The reminder of everything that had gone wrong and everything that had fallen apart.
Hate was not my thing. It got me nowhere. But I certainly disliked this time of the year with a passion.
I tell myself everyday that I choose to be happy. I choose to be grateful of everything that I still have, no matter what had happened in the past. I choose to smile as much as I can.
Sometimes, it gets hard though.
And the last one week has been harder than ever. Especially because it was this time of the year.
I was forcing myself to follow the cycle. Wake up, stay positive. Go to school, stay positive. Work, stay positive. Everything, stay positive.
But today- today was especially hard. Today, from the very moment I woke up- I couldn't hold it in.
It starts out as a little sniffle. My eyes burn, and soon enough the tears are slipping down my cheeks. The sniffles get louder and louder, and after a point- I'm just trying my very best not to cry very loudly.
Soon enough, my bedroom door creaks open. I don't move from my position, still curled up in my blanket as my brother crouches down by my bedside.
He looks just as worn out as I feel, if not more. His eyes are red too, as if he's been crying. His stubble has grown out, and he hasn't bothered to shave it off. The dark circles under his eyes stand out.
His lips curve into a small, sad smile. I can see his eyes searching, as if he's looking for whether or not to say it out loud- and ultimately, he chooses to.
"It's your big eighteen, huh?"
And those words, just made me feel a lot worse than I already did.
Birthdays are supposed to be happy days. Days that you love and look forward to.
But how could I ever love this day, knowing that I once shared this day with my other half? My other half, who was no longer with me? Knowing that he would never turn eighteen like I did?
