𝑰𝑵𝑲 • 𝑻𝒆𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 / 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

Last Of The Past

Before

—————

There are certain things you do to me

Things my heart cannot withstand

I hope you know my love for you

Runs far beyond this boundless land

—————

I remember the days that followed to be the worst of my life. The hours felt like weeks, yet at the same time, like seconds. Time seemed to run without rhyme or reason, speeding through the glimpses of happiness and choosing to rest in the worst moments. Moments where I'd feel myself slipping again, about to the break the promise I'd made myself.

That morning, when I woke up alone, I was busy. It had helped immensely. Swept away in my routine, there was no time to dwell on my situation. I did everything with purpose, every step, every chore, all done to blockade what I knew I would eventually have to face.

The first day, no one batted an eye at his absence, including me; but for obviously different reasons. I understand why they wouldn't question his not being here. It was often that Tewkesbury would make his way into town early in the day. I never knew what he did there during the day, but at night, he drank himself blind; that much I remember all too well. I was the only one who knew he wasn't coming back.

It wasn't until early morning the next day that the manor was turned upside down, everybody with eyes sent to search for him. I however, headed straight to my room. It had taken me no more than 24 hours to realize how I felt.

I wasn't nearly as sad as I was angry.

When my father had passed, I was devastated, and understandably so. In that circumstance, he had been robbed of time, taken away by a force beyond his control, and anyone's for that matter. But he never wanted to leave me.

Tewkesbury left by his own volition, and I hated him for it, with a burning passion. Every promise felt like a lie, every sweet word was now tainted by the knowledge that he had chosen to leave me. I hated him, but I hated myself even more for letting him do what he had done, for doing what I- what we had done.

The concept of virginity never made sense to me. How can you lose something that doesn't physically exist. And if I can't hold it, then how could he have taken it from me. But I soon realized that it didn't matter what I thought. When it comes to something like this, a man's opinion is the only one of importance, and I had just cut my future in half.

I didn't feel at all different, nothing had changed. I was still me, in every way, perhaps a little lonelier (something I wasn't willing to admit at the time), but in essence, things were as they always had been. But I couldn't tell anyone, because they wouldn't feel that way, that much I knew about the world.

Until then, the manor had never really felt lonely. Even when he was still here, there would be days we would see each other, but he had always still been there. And now all of a sudden, he's gone. It feels like I've lost whatever tethered me to this place, and I'm left feeling like a tourist in this extravagant building that no longer holds anything of importance to me.

It dawned upon me that this is always how it was supposed to be. This is what it was like for everyone else who worked on the estate, because work was all they ever did here. It was nothing more to them then their place of employment. Sure they lived there, but it was never their home, and neither was it mine. At least not anymore.

Far easier to attempt acceptance, I didn't go looking for a reason. If he had left a sign, I didn't want to see it, not wanting to give him any more of my time, any more space in my mind. I felt he didn't deserve it.