"Lie to me," he whispered. His face was so close and I couldn't breathe.
"Lie to me and tell me you don't want me as much as I want you. Lie to me and tell me you don't want to press those pretty lips of yours to mine right now. Lie to me and tell m...
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Losing someone was losing yourself.
It was a hurricane of emotion, a whirlwind of grief, a never-ending cycle between denial and depression.
It was the feeling of falling, the overwhelming amount of exhaustion you feel after overexerting your body and your mind, the equivalent to your knees giving out underneath you.
It was the world crumbling, breaking, shattering into hundreds and thousands and millions and billions of pieces. Infinitely breaking until there's no possible way to put it back together again.
Losing someone was tiring. Draining.
You can't sleep because of it. You lie awake, each night, staring at your ceiling and hoping that the darkness will swallow you up. You stand alone in every crowded room, wishing that the silence would take you with it.
Because nothing made sense. The pieces of the puzzle didn't fit without them. The Earth didn't revolve around the sun without them. Your lungs didn't work without them. Your heart didn't beat without them.
Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, is what your mind screamed.
Lost, lost, lost, lost, lost, is what your eyes thought.
Your fault, your fault, your fault, your fault, your fault, is what your heart sobbed.
And eventually, you believe them.
Because who else is there to believe when the darkness has swallowed you, and the silence has taken you with it?
[ • • • ]
I woke up too early.
My brain was numb. Useless. I stumbled my way down the stairs until I realized that I ran out of coffee.
We hadn't had filming all week, and I just stayed in my house. All day. Going insane.
Braelyn texted me a lot, but I was too tired to respond. Too exhausted to move from the spot I was curled up on in bed.
Today, though, we began filming again. And I wasn't ready.
I trudged my way back upstairs to change and make myself presentable. I figured I could go get some coffee and then head to filming, since it was in the early afternoon.
After changing out of my overly-worn pajamas, taking a shower and applying dabs of makeup, I walked out to my garage.
Forget, is what I told myself.
I drove around, not allowing myself to go to the coffee shop that Rowen had taken me to.
I opted for a small coffee shop that read "Nana's" on the sign. Seemed friendly enough. Small, quiet, peaceful, no paparazzi - and most importantly, no Rowen.
