Flicker Pain

epilogue

[ dedicated to ledzsinead for your wonderful comments and love :) ]

Life wasn't meant to be controlled.

I used to believe that I could make every single aspect of my life exactly how I wanted it to be. Life is just a bunch of chaos — but I didn't want to believe that. I welcomed the thought of God, because it was easy to say that life's fluctuations all rested in his capable hands. It was easy to pass the blame when things didn't go your way. The thought that anything could happen without control was terrifying. I couldn't accept it.

I still believe in God. But how I believed changed.

You can't control everything that happens. You can't say that tomorrow will be a better day because you have no control of the opposing side. There will always be people who will try to bring you down. When a fist comes flying towards your face, you can't stop yourself from getting hit.

But what you can do is brush yourself off, stand up, and continue living your life like it never even happened.

I made the mistake of relying too much on other people to determine the direction of my life. I supposed it was inevitable because there was only so much from them I could take before I broke down. But what did it matter, whose fault it was? I was still the one who suffered.

I was the only one who needed my pieces put together again.

Conrad and I spent our last day in the beach town at the carnival. He said it was to make up for last time, and I couldn't agree more.

We went on every ride, saw every sight, and ate everything we could. His happiness was infectious, and I couldn't recall a single moment when the smiles had fallen from our faces.

I never thought we could be that happy, so long as our problems were still with us. But that night it was easy, and we got lost in the fireworks and stars.

I began to realize that the pain we now suffered from was not permanent, nor consistently there. There were breaks in that pain, moments where our light was able to shine through.

It was almost like a flickering light — our pain. It could only last for so long before tranquility got the better of it, immersing us in a peaceful darkness.

I smiled at Conrad as he wrapped an arm around me, giving me a squeeze before taking a few steps forward to play one of those games where you could win a prize — the classic milk bottle pyramid. It was rigged, sure, but he was determined to show me that it was worth a try.

"Here you go," The carny handed Conrad his softballs before standing back, the typical shit-eating grin on his face.

Conrad threw them as hard as he can — and the milk bottles stayed virtually unmoved. The carny made a big deal of saying better luck next time, and I rushed forward to grab Conrad's hand before he could say anything back.

"It was worth a try," I told him with a sly smile as we walked away.

"Stupid carnival game." He pouted like a child, making me laugh.

We eventually drifted down to the waterfront. The waters were dark and calm, brushing up against the wood of the boardwalk with mellow sways. The moon was full tonight, and the stars were brighter than I'd ever seen before. The night was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Conrad fiddled with his fingers, looking at me apprehensively, "My mom wants me to try therapy again," He murmured.

I looked at him, "Are you okay with that?"

"I guess so," He said, sounding unconvinced, "I just...don't really believe in the idea that they can...heal me. Sometimes I just think that I'm too far gone."

I nodded, heart fluttering, "I know what you mean," I paused, "But I don't think there's any harm in trying. If you want to."

He grunted, somewhat agreeing, "Do you think that they could ever heal me?"

I gazed at every single one of his features. The hair that he used to hide his face, the slanted, worried eyebrows, the unsure eyes rimmed with glassy brown, his nose, his pink cheeks, and his full lips that were rough and chewed.

I firmly told him, "If they don't, then we'll just have to heal each other."

His lips spread into a thankful, satisfied grin, "Promise?"

"Promise."

When it came to future promises, the majority of them were broken. Because things often spun out of control, and there was nothing you could to to stop them.

But there were few, rare ones that transcended that. And ours was one of the latter.

How did I know that?

Standing there in the moonlight with Conrad's lips pressed against my cheek — I knew the worst was already behind us.

* * *