Done Playing The Game | ON HOLD |

Seven

"Oh c'mon now. Aspen, you don't mean that." I hear Ryder plead from the end of the staircase. I locked myself in my room, thinking about too many things to know exactly what it is. I hear footsteps slowly creak up the stairs and I crawl further back on the bed, even knowing he can't get past the door.

"Babe, I didn't mean to -" He starts.

"Don't call me babe." I snicker. He thought that would help?

"I'm sorry. Just - ," he pauses in frustration, "You can't tell me that whole thing was meaningless. I felt it and I know you did. What did I do wrong?"

I sigh, looking at the paint stain on the carpet. Where Greg and I did our art project together, the first assignment I failed. I smile sadly, standing up and going to the door.

"Nothing. You did everything you're supposed to do." I slide my back down the door, sitting with my knees bunched up against my chest. My eyes catch sight of the dog tag and I suddenly get so angry at it, ripping it off my neck and throwing it across the room. It land on the air vent and I almost wish it would go through the slit and fall far from me, my memories.

"Then what's wrong?" His voice sounds airy and calming. I close my eyes, letting his words echo through my head.

"It's so hard to let go." The statement cracks coming from my mouth and my head lolls, my forehead tapping my knees weakly. I hear a deep breath from the other side, releasing conflicted feelings. That sigh is the story of my life and soul, so many feelings just coming out and you're left with nothing. Blackness. Depth. Darkness.

"Just let yourself fall. I'll catch you. I promise." The tone of his voice was so meaningful. I expected something so much less, post sigh.

That's all it took for me to open the door. He stood there looking as if he hadn't slept in days. I bite my lip, weakly flailing myself into his arms. His grip was tight and I felt so secure.

"I trust you." I whisper, tears filling the brim of my eyes. "I want you to catch me."

The sound of relief that comes out of his mouth is all it takes for the tears to fall. I clutch him tight, scared he'll fade away with any thought or motion. His grip is just as tight and he rubs my back, giving me the sense that it's gonna be okay.

"Aspen, you don't understand what this means to me." I can't pinpoint the feelings I hear, more waves of emotion crashing over me and making me lose my sensitivity.

A hushed wave comes over and I shake my head, moving my hand to the back of his head, gripping the hair. It was only hair but to me, it was my reality check. The pinch that meant it was real, he was real.