In Your Eyes ✧ Timothée Chalamet

39 - help me

T I M O T H É E

My legs don't feel heavy, it is the weight of my shattered heart that I'm having trouble carrying back home.

But I make it somehow.

The memory of Ella's lips on mine replays in my mind more times than I would like for it to. Her tear filled eyes are were the last thing I looked at before she walked out the store. I promised her I'd stay away for good. And I intend to keep that promise. Because she was right. Even though I wanted her to be wrong so badly. I know she's right about this. We love eachother, there's no doubt about it but this is painful for the both of us. If we stay together and I'm 3,000 miles away from her. It'll tear me up inside.

All I'll think about is who she's with, what she's doing, where she's going, why she isn't answering my calls, if something happened to her, if she's okay or not. Not knowing those things and not being able to check on her will eat at me the whole time I'm in Cali. She knows that. I know that now too.

We aren't kids anymore. This isn't just about love. It's about sacrifice now too. Is one of us really willing to sacrifice our future for the other? I know I don't want to give up Cali. I know she doesn't want to give up NYU. Only if one of us willing to do that for the other then we would know that this was all worth it in the end.

But right now it's not. We're not ready for that kind of commitment. Not yet anyway.

'Timo?' My mother's voice startles me. I forget that I'm standing by the door with the presents I just bought for them still in my hands. I place their Christmas presents on the floor and head towards my mothers voice. She's sitting on the living room couch. My father's beside her watching the television with so much focus in his gaze. They look cozy, just the sight of them makes it all hurt me more. Because I saw Ella and me in a dream like this once. It was a hazy dream where we're curled up on a couch together in our pajamas late at night. We had a whole house together, two kids were playing near us on the fuzzy carpet. It was what I wanted for us. And knowing we'd never get there one day was agonizing.

My mothers voice steadies me yet again. 'Are you alright honey?' She asks me, and it's not an unusual question for her to ask.

Ever since my parents helped me deal with George Myers's dead body last month they've been constantly worrying about me. When I told them Ella broke up with me they were even more concerned about my well-being. I sit down beside my mother and I don't speak for a while.

But then my heart hurts and my throat aches and I can't hold it all back for much longer. I lean towards her and I rest my head on her lap. She strokes my hair as I let out the quiet cries I held back the moment I stepped through our front door. 'Timo what is it? What's wrong my love?'

I can't talk. What do I say to her? How do I explain to my mother that I feel like my chest got carved open and my heart got ripped out? How do I tell her that I just let go of the one thing that matters most to me in this world? How do I describe this ache I feel all over my body, not just in my chest? I feel someone rubbing my arm and up and down and I realize my father is no longer focused on the t.v but instead his eyes are on me.

Only me.

And they're full of worry. 'You can talk to us son. We're here for you, always.' My father whispers in my ear as my mother continues to stroke my hair and plant kisses on my wet cheeks. I want to tell them what's wrong with me but it hurts to say it, it hurts to even think about it so I just cry into their arms for the longest time. I cry about the girl I've lost, I cry about the future we could have had together had distance not been a problem for us both. I cry for her loss. For her mother, for her father, for her best friends, for everything she's ever had to go through.