The Symphony

Back in the Swing of Things

They say that life
In its most unadorned expression
Is a battle of wills
_____

Charlie's pov
After landing, Wilhemina asked me to come over to her house and spend the night with her. I agreed, thinking I probably shouldn't be alone anyway. As we laid in bed, I couldn't shake the feeling that had been in my chest since the conversation with my parents. "Charlie..." Wilhemina mumbles and I hum in response, my face still turned towards the ceiling.

"What were you guys talking about?" she whispers, "nothing sensical" I answer truthfully. "It's just that... my parents would argue a lot—when I was younger. I just want to know what it was about... please?" she asks softly and I sigh to myself, averting my gaze to my hands. "It was about you..." I whisper and it's silent for a few minutes, both of us not knowing what to say I guess.

"W-what about me?" she whispers and it breaks my heart to hear her sound so hurt. I blink away the tears as I take a deep breath. "They're just controlling... they think that I can't make good decisions on my own. So any person I pick... is just not up to their standards" I sigh and turn to her after not getting a reply. She has tears in her eyes as she stares back at me and takes a breath.

"It's my back... isn't it?" she mumbles under her breath and I don't have the heart to tell her yes but, I don't want to lie either. "The silence is enough of an answer" she chuckles bitterly and I open my mouth to apologize but she stops me. "No... don't" she sighs as she sits up, "but you know that doesn't matter to me. We've talked about this..." I remind her.

"In theory, Charlie. It's different now..." she mumbles, standing up and heading for the door. "Where are you going?" I ask, "to think" she states plainly. "So I should've lied?" I voice as she opens the door and she turns around, easing her gaze from the floor. "No... I just need a minute" she pleads and I nod, laying back down and sighing.

I scream internally, feeling like I've fucked everything up all over again. Logically—I know it's not my fault but that doesn't stop me from blaming myself. If only I hadn't gone to my parents, or if I hadn't invited Wilhelmina; useless 'what ifs'. I figure me staying here won't really help the situation.

I find a paper and pen, quickly scribbling down a note before I go. I know she doesn't want to see me right now or else I'd tell her face-to-face. I grab my little things and head out the door, locking it, then closing it softly behind me. I go home, opening the door and sighing deeply. It feels like I'm a stranger here, since I haven't been sleeping in my bed for a while.

I plop down on it and take a look around, my eyes landing on my desk. As much as I need sleep, I know my mind won't grant me rest. I head over to my desk, flipping the switch on the small lamp. The hazy yellow light spreads over all the documents and I thumb through a few aimlessly.

"Alexa, shuffle my work playlist" I call out and soon enough, 'jet skis on the moat' by arctic monkeys is sounding softly through the room. I lose myself in the seemingly endless papers, song after song just passing by. I only realize how long I've been sitting when the sun peeks through the curtains. I yawn and stretch my back, suddenly noticing the pain from sitting so long.

I stand up, my eyes practically closed, and make my way to the bed. I curl up in the sheets, pulling them closer around me.

one month later...

Work. Home. Drink. Sleep. Repeat.

That's basically been my regimen for the last few weeks or so. This time I can't put any blame on Wilhemina for the state we're in. She's tried contacting me but I always tell her I'm busy with this or that. I couldn't even say why I'm avoiding her in the first place, she's done nothing wrong. It's just something in me won't allow me to talk to her.

The mere thought of seeing her makes my stomach twist and I hate it. My parents didn't get into my head, at least not in the way it seems. The issue is that I hate to have been the reason Wilhemina felt the way she did. The look she gave me made my heart clench in my chest. I know I didn't do anything, it was my parents, but they're my parents.

I may not have done anything but, indirectly, it still feels like my fault. Over the course of time I've been away from her, I've had a lot of time to think. I'm not sure if it's been to my benefit or detriment but it's been happening nonetheless. All I've done, all I've 'accomplished' seems to have vanished before my very eyes.

Meeting after meeting flies by, words blending into each other amongst the endless paperwork I've been reading over. All as a means to distract myself from her but it's not use. I may be 'successful' in terms of money or acclaim; yet nothing compares to the way I felt with her.

I felt like the richest woman in the world with her in my arms. I've always prided myself on being a resilient person, one who can withstand any storm; whether it be of my own volition or spite made no difference to me. However, I find myself on a stumbling block when I stare at the uphill battle ahead of me.

I've happened upon a valley of sorts, a low I've never known before. Continuing on without her feels pointless but it's something I must do. Although, that does not negate the fact that—despite all this time—I have not found a way to do so; at least not in a healthy way. The only thing I can hang onto is the fact that I'm still breathing and with that, maybe there's a chance for things to get better.