I could feel it coming.
There's something about the weather growing colder and the sun hiding longer that made me feel this way. It was always worse when Jared was away, which was frequently and extensively now that he and Thirty Seconds to Mars' new album had dropped. Usually, I was able to keep whatever was wrong with me under control, but on a day like today, when everything seemed to be going wrong and the sun refused to shine, there was no stopping the floodgates.
Jared was supposed to be coming home for a week break from the 'Artifact' showings, and the tour, but I received a text in the early hours of the morning that his plane got laid over in France, and he would more than likely be arriving a day or two late. I couldn't sleep after that, my mind reeling.
I wasn't sure what time I finally got out of bed, but when I did, I managed to feed our golden retriever Nemo before it hit me. The tears came pouring out in waves, wracking my chest with sobs. My heart felt as if it was going to burst out of my chest to escape the madness inside my head. And it didn't help that it was snowing outside. It was as if the entire world around me was an accomplice to my anguish.
I managed to quell my sobs enough to take Nemo out for a walk, who was scratching at the door impatiently. The walk made things worse because we were the only two outdoors, for the weather was that bad. Children shouldn't be cooped up in their homes this time of year. They should be able to go to friend's houses, build snowmen and just be free.
It wasn't fair; not one bit.
The ice freezing to my wet lashes was a sign that it was time to go back inside, so I began walk again with Nemo. As soon as the door shut behind us, I shrugged out of my coat, retreating back upstairs to our room. The bed seemed so vast without his presence, and the silk blue sheets made me feel as if I were drowning in an ocean. I tried to play some music, to make that big, empty house seem more full, but Jared's voice just echoed out from the speakers, his words weighing heavily on my soul.
"A revolution has begun, today for me inside. The ultimate defense is to pretend..."
I began to think about winter, and how I was to carry on again after Jared left. Sometimes I wished that the band fell through, just so he'd be able to stay with me always. It's a selfish and impossible thought, for performing for Jared was as necessary to him as breathing. And besides, I was forever destined to share him with the millions of other boys and girls who needed him just as much as I.
Never in my life had I wanted him home as badly as I did in that moment.
With tears sliding hot and fast down my cheeks, I cursed the weather for keeping him from me so long. The longer I cried, the angrier I became. I began to throw things, anything I could get my hands on. I ripped the sheets off the bed, pulled books off the shelves. The only thing that stopped my onslaught was the sound of a box tumbling off the top of the bookcase. Papers toppled out, ones that I had long since forgotten.
They were letters from Jared, written everyday of the entire 'Into The Wild' Tour, otherwise known as the infamous tour of 300+ performances. I remember calling and telling him he could stop and save his energy because the doctor's said he was getting worse as the tour wore on, but he continued anyway.
"I want you to know that you're as a part of my thoughts, as I am yours," he had croaked out, before falling into a coughing fit.
I collapsed on the floor, clutching the box and rocking back and forth continuing this motion until I fell into a restless sleep, Jared's voice still carrying through the barren room.
I awoke to Nemo barking downstairs, my puffy eyes shutting back again. I crawled into our stripped-down bed, the letters still in my hands. In the pitch black of the room, the music suddenly stopped. Light flooded in and my eyes reluctantly opened.
"Kris?"
Jared stood in the doorway, his coat hanging off one shoulder and his bags at his feet. His long, ombre'd hair was full of static, giving him the aura of an angel in the light. His eyes were gentle as they scanned me, and he sniffed from the cold. I burst into tears again at the sight of him.
This was not how I wanted our reunion to pan out.
Very rarely had I ever let him see me in such a state, but in that moment, there was no hiding. He shrugged out of his coat, dropping it to the floor like sacrilege as he sat down on the bed beside me. His brows were furrowed in a look of anguish, as if he felt my pain as his own.
"Kristen, what's wrong?" He asked, his voice rising an octave out of concern. I tried to calm my breathing, but air pushed into my lungs in short, painfully quick breaths, making me feel light-headed. Jared was no stranger to intense anxiety, so when he took my hands and forced me to look up at him, I shakily complied.
"Just breathe. In and out. That's it."
Slowly, he called my nerves, my eyes sore from the strain. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my full lashes wet with tears and my voice hoarse. Jared shook his head, his thin hands wiping at my cheeks.
"No, don't apologize. Now, what's wrong?"
I began explaining to him everything I had been feeling these past few weeks. He listened silently, waiting patiently at times when it all seemed to be rushing back.
"And look at me," I choked out, "I can't even bring myself to smile and you're here. When I imagined you home, I thought I'd be happy. What's wrong with me?"
Jared leaned in closer, his gaze intent but his eyes soft. He looked as if he were on the verge of tears.
"What are you feeling, right now, in this moment?"
Our gazes connected and I shuddered out a sob.
"I feel like I'm falling apart," I answered truthfully.
In an instant, his arms were around me, enveloping me in warmth. He squeezed me so tight, that it felt like all my broken pieces were slowly being put back together. My face was tucked in the crook of his neck, so close, that I could hear the gentle whoosh of his pulse.
"Remember this," he said, his voice soft, "remember this when it gets bad. If you ever need me, for anything at all, just tell me and I'll drop everything. I'll come to you."
I began to cry again, but not because of my demons, but because of my angel. The fact that he was more than willing to put me before anything else in his life meant the world to me. We laid down on the bare bed, Jared pulling me into his arms once more.
"Hold onto me," he whispered gently, his voice finally filling the room in such a way his music could not replicate.
I closed my eyes as he began to hum a tune I did not recognize, realizing he was more than likely making it up as he went.
In that moment, I didn't care about tomorrow, or the future. I didn't care that the likelihood of me starting therapy and an anti-depressant regime was very high. All I cared about was him, rocking me gently and loving me unabashedly.
Because he was worth the pain.
//AN: Okay, so I wrote this when I was going through a very rough part in my life, so this is written in my point of view. I hope someone finds comfort, or connects with it in some minuscule way. Comments and votes are appreciated. Thank you.//
