Pathetic


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1. Distance

The dim light of Sean's bathroom seemed so threatening to my squinting eyes now. It cast a stain of nauseating yellow across the porcelain fixtures as my vision blurred, sweat and tears creeping along my paled face. The first empty retch erupted from my throat, along with a sob, as i subconsciously prayed for it to stop.

This was my first anxiety attack in two years, and combined with the most intense heartbreak and betrayal, it was my worst nightmare.

"Emily, do you need some water?" his voice was course, like he was. I could picture the stubbled jawline, his messy, barely grown-out hair, his sharp eyes eyes burning through the door, as he spoke.

i tried to lift my heavy head, it felt like the entire ocean was crammed between my temples, and the tide was coming in. All i could think about was him. How uncaring, despicable he was. 

Fresh tears pricked my eyes as memories swam through my drowning mind.

"No..i'm fine. go away"

The words gurgled from my barely pursed lips, they were strained, and my voice played staccato as i tried to pull myself together. He didn't need to see me any weaker..

He ignored my plea for privacy, as i heard the door creak open, and his trainers scrape along the Linoleum floor. i turned away and shielded my face with my left arm, my forehead pressed against the toilet seat in a humiliating demonstration of self pity. 

"Are you alright?" his voice purred, the tone of sympathy in his voice so finely tuned. it made me sick how much of an artist he was when it came to faking feelings. 

"yeah, im fucking great, cant you see?" i whispered sarcastically. my head shifted slightly, as if to try and stop the overflow of emotion slip from between my lips "im so pathetic.."

i heard his broad shoulders hit the wall, as he slid to my level, and brushed my back. "no youre not, dont be stupid, ive had my fair share of this sort of thing..." 

Another sudden wave of nausea had my rushing for the toilet once again. nothing. i couldnt even vomit right.

"take it easy," he whispered, shuffling closer. He lit up a cigarette and the smell filled my nostrils. i resisted the urge to gag again and the tears started. The ache between my ribs had started, being so close to him. 

Reunited with his smell. Caressed by his soothing voice once more. The knife of self-loathing twisted in my chest. How can you still love him after today. After everything he's done to you.

Sobs began to jerk my torso as despair washed over my frail crumpled self. 

"I just dont understand how i can care so much, and you seem to care so little.." My words were muffled as a web of saliva caught in my throat and black lines began to emerge from my eyes to my jawline. "Please turn the light off, i cant bear it" i begged.

the pully clicked as the room went black, his arms outstretched towards me as he sighed "Come here" and lifted me to his chest. He cradled me, like a child. My thoughts went to our past phone calls, the arguments, the last time he'd held me in bed as we'd laughed about something or other. All the Memories i could never ever enjoy now.

All i wanted to do was spit in his face. Yell how it was all his fault i was a Manic depressive, anxiety-ridden mess. i sat and wished my memories of cutting up my chinadoll skin with a razorblade, vomiting, and isolation would somehow transfer to his mind. The sickness stopped me from pulling away. but i knew that wasnt all it was. 

Part of me was remembering. Trying, but failing, to not indulge in an everlasting moment, that i knew eventually would end. 

"I never meant to hurt you like this Emily, you know i didnt.."

I didn't know if i was imagining his tears, or whether he was really just as much a wreck as i.

He kissed my forehead as i wept into his chest, cursing him, begging time to rewind. i was searching for all the answers in his tshirt that was now soggy with my tears, and finding only regret, self hatred, and the guilt allover him, that was stronger than his cologne.

The bittersweet moment ended all too fast. nothing was resolved. 

In the end, my friends decrepit bathroom was not the warm, safe bed, he'd once called 'ours'.

His kiss that laced my damp forehead felt wrong to how it always had.

And although there were mere inches between his heart, and mine.

Bone.

And Flesh.

And mistakes,

Would forever stand between us.

 

 

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