The Fighter's Club: Survival of The Fittest

Chapter 10 ◇◇ Two Wrongs Never Make A Right

Chapter 10- Two Wrongs Never Make a Right

Can I talk to you just a little while..

I'll speak my peace

Translate my confusion

Allow the feelings inside of me to echo off the walls in hopes that maybe you'll see..

See that the foundation we stood upon steady and unmoved for so much of a long time..

The Foundation that you built with your bare hands

The foundation you prided yourself on

The one you taught me to lean upon is slowly cracking at the seems

Day by day the width of the cracks grow wider

The damage becomes more irreparable

And I reach out for you..hoping that if I can hold you close enough that you'll look down and see

See that you pulling away from me disrupts the foundation we worked so hard to build

So can I please just talk to you??

I'll speak my peace and give you every opportunity to speak yours..

We can translate our confusions

Allow our feelings to echo loudly like thunder roaring on a stormy night

And maybe we both will see that if we do nothing to fix the distance between us our foundation will collapse under the self-inflicted pressure And so will we..

---

Devyn

Tired couldn't even begin to describe how I looked and felt. Gazing at myself in the mirror and lights provided by my makeup vanity, exhaustion was written all over me. Deep dark bags under my eyes, the whites of them being slightly red, the constant rapid blinking of them that I couldn't control; all those symptoms pointed to the fact that I hadn't slept a minute since I walked back into the house hours ago.

Even in his arms, I couldn't seem to find the serenity and calmness that eased my worrying and fidgeting. All night I tossed and turned continuously never being able to get settled and sleep my troubles away. Looking at myself now I could clearly see that all of that was coming back to bite me in the ass.

Makeup could hide and disguise the exhaustion from my face but nothing would make up for how my body felt all day. Coffee would be the best damn thing in the world right about now but anything that was labeled as slightly bad for pregnant women who thrown long away and to never come back.

All the junk food, overly sweetened sodas and fruit drinks, any sweets except the occasional pint of ice cream were taken out of the house before I could even come home from the hospital. Now all that occupied our shelves and cupboards were oatmeal and healthy sh*t I didn't want anything to do with.

I was pregnant not dead.

However I couldn't get Chance to believe that enough to allow me to eat whatever I wanted these days.

I could hardly get him to me hear on much honestly.. it's like somewhere during all the chaos that ensued around us when I got hurt he lost some part of his self and doesn't even want to find it. It seems like most of the words I say to him go through one ear and out of the other despite that fact I keep trying to get through to him.