Saudade | Loubbie

Chapter Thirty Nine

And some memories never leave. Lou - she had enough memories to drink coffee all by herself in a café so empty yet so crowded with the ghosts of those who have left, but always stayed, and by those, she meant Debbie. The waves have gone feral now. The waves were howling like how the wolves howl to the moon; and maybe, just maybe, the waves were in love with the moon too, for every second of every night, it howls and tries to touch for a love it can never ever have. The night was a fast-paced grasp and they just found themselves sitting by the seashore. Feelings peeled and raw and histories were dug.

"I love you more than I love myself and that is the problem. Even if I was losing myself, it was okay because I had you - so when you left and I had lost myself, I didn't know what to do." Lou confessed as she looked at the horizon in front, her voice all dreary as she stared at the black sea and black skies in front.

It was a night of unmasking feelings. A night of honesty and a night of hopes and maybe forgiveness. Debbie bit her lip as she felt every twitch of pain travelling through her vein. Lou's words were a punch. The brunette realized how much she had fucked Lou up. Lou was a white satin dress, and Debbie, she knew she was the spilled-vodka stain that ruined her; she's the thing, the pain, the fuck it that would never go away. Debbie was torn between taking Lou's hand or turning away. The night was too much, achingly too much.

The blonde gave up another sigh before she looked down on the sand on her feet, "I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go, Debs." And when she spit those out, Debbie saw how Lou hung her head beside her as she silently sobbed.

Debbie sucked and held her breath. She felt the gradual decay of her heart as she tried so hard not to cry. Lou was sobbing beside her and it was a pain Debbie couldn't bear. The doleful sounds Lou was making stabbed the brunette. The wind rushed to whistle again; the night became achingly cold and broken. Debbie, in her most honest version, just wanted to look at the blonde, take her hands and kiss it; she wanted to whisper her all the things she never said, but she was afraid of burning Lou again. The blonde had kissed and embraced the torture she didn't deserve, and for Debbie it was a suicide of the heart. She wanted to tell Lou to stop doing it, but how could she when it would mean to stop loving her?

"I..." Debbie paused as she felt her tears rushing out of her, "I'm sorry, Lou. I am sorry for hurting you. I am sorry for breaking you."

Lou gave a gentle nod of the head, as if accepting what Debbie had just said. The blonde watched the waves crashed and fell and for her, it was a sombre reality washing her hopes away. Like how the cyan waves on the shoreline erased the doodles she made on the sand, Lou knew that Debbie would be gone too.

"I was a fucking coward, Lou." Debbie added as she tucked her knees against her chest, her hands coming to wipe her tears as she tried so hard not to sob, "I have always wanted to be brave, but I always ended up seeking an easy way out. I am just so sorry for hurting you. For always leaving you. For all the things I did not do and for all the things I did, I am sorry."

Lou held her breathe. The pain was too much and she just wanted to scream it all out, but there beside her, was Debbie, all raw and honest and remorseful and despite the huge weight and hate Lou had on her skin, she wanted to just hug her ex-wife just so they could put an end to everything. The loud and disturbing silence that resided in their fisted palms was too much. And for the record, maybe it would be the last time where they would sit beside each other in chaos and in pain before they would write a closing remark to their story. Under the dark skies full of glowing stars and enigma, Lou wonder if Debbie still had secrets that she would never ever share, because Lou, she had nothing left that night. They were like two young lovers breaking each other's sanity in an old hotel deck, but the difference was, they were not breaking glasses; they were breaking hearts.