'Forgiveness is for yourself because it frees you. It lets you out of that prison you put yourself in,' - Louise L. Hay
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I THOUGHT, I could do it. I really thought I could, but I can't.
I can't do this.
I thought I wanted him awake. I thought I wanted him alive. Now, I'm not sure so anymore.
He's awake. He's finally awake, and now all I want is for him to go back into his catatonic state. The state where he is no threat, the state where his eyes won't judge me every time I enter his vision.
But he's awake, and I don't know what he is. Is he a friend or a foe?
I don't know, and I'm not sure I'm brave enough to figure out the answer.
Just the mere thought of him alive in the other room steals my breath away.
Hiding, like the coward I am, and tangled in the sheets that mixes mine and Xavier's scents into one, I can't move. Imprisoned by my own fear, all I can do is stay here and watch as the grass escapes its own prison by forcing its way through the drying morning dew.
I let out a shaky breath as my mind still whispers the words of intent. Yes, I wanted to help him. I really did. I can't deny that small voice in my head, but still it doesn't conquer the side of me that desperately wishes for him to just be gone. To be miles away and never thread these woodlands that makes up our cherished home. But now, even if he did leave, he would still torment me.
Torment me, us, with the fear he brings of when he will come once again, and this time with Lunar Noctis as our executioner.
The reeling thoughts are enough to make my breath rapid, and I clutch the windowsill, while my head dips trying to even out my breathing, only to feel the shaky breaths catch in my clothes.
I close my eyes in defeat of realizing just how strong a hold they still have on me. Making me inferior even when I'm supposed to be free and cared for within my own sacred walls.
Instead they're closing in on me. The bed no longer feels soft and comfortable, instead it's like embers heating under the surface, itching to touch and swallow me like the prey I've become.
Yet, I can't find the courage to leave, because I know this pain is nothing compared to the heartache I'll feel when he looks at me. I can't willing allow myself to see the judgement, the despise, and the putrid hatred which is sure to coat his eyes when they fall upon mine.
It's a look I cannot bear to see ever again. Once was enough, and I won't let my heart suffer that cracking blow again.
Another striking evidence of my inferiority. After everything, I still feel their disapproval hover over me like the impending cloud that looms over the meadow threatening to imprison the grass anew, as a reminder of nothing is infinite.
