Moonlight Kisses

his incomparable love

jordyn.

From a distance, I hear him calling my name. "Jo? Jo!" Miles away, numerous doors opened and shut in a blind search for me.

I sat beside the edge of the pool. Watching the ripples precariously. Mesmerized by the effect even the smallest of drops had on the rest of the water. The surface was calm, moving with the rhythm of the wind. But one faint pin drop could knock the ripples off balance. Causing a mass of other little tiny waves in its wake. Incomprehensible was how one tiny drop, one fault, could have such an amassed effect over this gigantic body of water. A drop's ripples travel far. One moment it's dangling from my fingertips, awaiting gravity's pull. The next, it made its way over to the other side of the pool. A mile away at the very least.

My focus has been caught up in this pattern for hours. Immersed in this perfect example of a butterfly effect where even one minuscule drop could throw off the water's natural rhythm. If one drop could have this much power, imagine what a pebble could do. Or a whole bucket of small pebbles. It'd be drastic, wouldn't it?

"Jo!" For the first time, I look up at the sound of my name. Expectedly, I find Beau going around the garden making a beeline towards me. I knew there wasn't much time that would have gone by before he realized I wasn't there.

I didn't mean to push him away. In fact, that's the very last thing I wanted to do. None of this is his fault and yet here I am punishing him. By barely talking to him, and whenever I did I was always in a rush to get away, I was making him pay for someone else's mistakes. But what else was left for me to do? Talking about my feelings did me no good, so much as pondering them sent me into this mental spiral that took hours to claw myself out of. I tried the talking thing, it didn't fucking work.

Letting him be there for me was even worse. Though I know that there's safety to be found within his touch, I can't get the thought of someone else's hands on me out of my fucking head. Flinching away came upon instinct, as did apologizing profusely right afterward. Like a fucking saint, he understood, but that sympathy didn't hinder the pained look on his face whenever I restrained myself from him. That's what made me physically put space between us altogether.

Here I thought the truth would bring us closer like we once were. Boy was I wrong.

He approaches me, hands jammed in his pockets awkwardly as he knelt down to my level. "Where've you been?" His voice is quiet, but my thoughts are louder. So adamant to get across to me that he's only trying to help, and me being the damaged piece of work I am, I'm only making it that much harder on him to be there for me.

Does he even want to be here for me anymore? It's been nearly a week since he told me about what Leo had done and I haven't given him anything. Nothing to show him that I've been getting better. How close is he to giving up on me?

I nod to the pool without a word. It's easier to stay silent when the possibility of the wrong words coming out is just one move away. I don't need him knowing that I'm trying to forget all about it, for his sake and mine. He wouldn't understand. He'd refuse to let me, I know he would. But if I could just cram all of this into the back of my mind where it originated from, I know we can go back to the way we were. Happy, closer, our relationship wouldn't be so dependent on my mental state. Right now, all we have is the love that we promised each other long before this happened. At this rate, that could be gone too.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him sit down beside me. Whereas I have my feet dangling off the edge into the lukewarm water, he keeps his legs bent, his elbows propped on them as he looks over at me. "What's on your mind?" he pushes for the truth, not some silly excuse to make him feel better.

"The same thing," I answer vaguely. It could mean my past, it could mean the present happenings, it's a general umbrella of any and all the bullshit I could have in my head at the moment. None of them I carry any desire to acknowledge.