blue ✓

thirty nine

disclaimer; talk of mental health issues and suicide.

lola

My lungs ached with the deepened gulps of air filling inside the tissue, so cold I could barely withstand my own breaths. The night stood still for a second when I stopped taking those throbbing breaths, that's when I realised I was in the middle of the road, the gravel rumbling against my shoes and inside my bones.

But all my mind could think of, was him. The boy with the sun kissed skin and pine forest soul. I'd been so lost, so absorbed in the thick canopies and mossy grounds of his soul, and now that I was out, I was breathing new air and it hurt inside my trembling body. My throat closing in on itself as I heaved in and out, ribs breaking as my heart ripped itself out of my chest to the ground below.

I didn't know I could cry so much until that night, I thought I'd drown in my tears under the stars and the moon. I cried so profusely my body couldn't handle it, I fell to the road with heaviness. The ground below cutting the skin against my arms and legs, blood staining my hands and pale skin, but I didn't care when I stared at the inflictions. All that hurt was the thought of Harry kissing another's lips, the thought was suffocating me.

I was so sure my heart would just stop beating there and then. But still, my blood still pumped and the heart inside my aching chest kept beating.

I was so engulfed in sadness in that moment I hadn't even noticed the rushing headlights down the road, even the sound of the car engine was blurred in another reality deep within my brain.

I closed my eyes, holding myself in the middle of the road. I thought I would die that night, I thought my heart would rip open and bleed out, or that car would hit me, or something else would happen to me and I would finally take my last aching breath.

Until I felt the arms of my mother wrap around my shoulders, I knew it was her even though my eyes were closed. Her scent of chanel always repulsed me, but in this dark street on a cold night, it was my salvage and refuge, in a dark demonic place. I felt like a child–like when you were five or six and would fall on the concrete and scrape your knee, your mother rubbing her fingers against your tear stained cheek as she placed the band-aid over the wound. Feeling new again, okay in this harsh world.

When my eyes opened again I was inside my home, my father was merely a witness to my breakdown and as he watched my mother guide me upstairs, he said the same words he said two years ago.

"Will she be okay?"

And my mother repeated her same words.

"She will be."

Warm water rose around my cold skin as the bathtub slowly filling, my gnawing body sitting on the porcelain floor, my legs tucked into my chest as I cried so harshly my throat hurt. The hot steam stuck to the tears that fell down my red cheeks, my mother caressing her gentle touch down my neck and back as she let warm water run through the the dark strands of hair. She didn't bother to ask why I was so broken tonight and I wanted to thank her for that, but I was too afraid she did know and was grabbing onto that knowledge why I was vulnerable.

But all I did was cry, cry as my mother washed away the dirt and memories staining my skin. She remained silent, cleansing the skin that felt harsh against my own hands and gently soothing her fragile daughter as she tried to keep me together, again.

She helped me dry myself, wiping away the sticky tears against my face.

Then she dressed me, hugging me tightly as that sweater fell below my thighs.

And then, as if I was that anxious six-year-old little girl again, she tucked me into my bed and kissed my forehead goodnight.

I had almost forgotten our relationship was so strained when I looked into the blue of her eyes that night, my body falling into the softness of my pillow below as she turned the light off. I wanted to thank her as she walked away and closed the door, I wanted to apologize for all of the fights and all of the missed moments we had throughout these years. But my throat was filled with sadness and guilt, I couldn't even cry anymore as my eye lids became heavy in the moonlight. I was sure, if I wasn't so exhausted I wouldn't have slept that night, but my body was bled dry of any soul or life. My heart exhausted of any love and happiness, a tired blue soul ready to sleep for eternity.