Restart My Heart

You and the Moon and Neptune

*BRIEF SUMMARY: Goodbye by Miley Cyrus except I fixed it.

(can read without having heard the song, don't worry. although I recommend. it's so good.)

***

Marigold opened her eyes to the bright sunlight streaming in through the blinds. She groaned and squeezed them shut, turning over to see if maybe she could salvage some semblance of sleep. She knew it was useless— the stab wound in her heart was still open and gushing, fresh and raw and vulnerable. It's been two weeks.

Jesus. Two weeks; it feels like a split-second, and yet still an eternity. She's been getting through it as good as she knows how, which is to say she's buried herself in her work again. But now she's so ahead of the deadlines she has no work to take home on the weekends. And so here she is. Lying in bed at 11am on a Saturday, feeling like she should either break something or spend the entire day crying in bed. Both sounded like reasonable options. You don't just lose love like the love Marigold had with Alexander. They were Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy— for god's sake, they were Sandy Olsson and Danny Zuko!

She sighed, feeling the warmth of tears falling down her face and dampening the pillow. She thought back to their first kiss, where she and Alexander had stood by the lake, watching the sunset, the pink and orange bleed into a bright blue; at the time it had evoked an emotion within her she'd long thought impossible. Marigold couldn't help but smile. What is this god-awful swelling in my heart? She had thought. And then he said, "Goldie..." in a tone that made her pulse jump, wrapped two fingers around her wrist, tugged her forward...

She sniffled and buried her face in the pillow. She wanted to ask him if he's like her, if he ever thought of those moments sometimes. If he wanted to forget saying goodbye— it's the only memory of them that Marigold's willing to part with.

She lifted her face to take a breath and caught sight of the photo on her nightstand. Immediately it was like a punch in the gut. And then— it was the most peculiar thing— she almost laughed. She almost laughed because she could feel her heart race just looking at his smiling face and his arms wrapped around her. Of course. Her heart didn't know how to not be in love with him yet.

She'd have to toss that photograph. Sometime. Maybe. Not today.

It was some time before Marigold managed to roll out of bed and drag herself to the bathroom, run herself through her routine, spend at least five minutes trying to convince herself to wash her face. In the mirror she saw the bright blue, slightly discolored locks of her hair and cringed internally. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Marigold's hair, of course, was golden-blonde before this catastrophe. Alexander always made the classic Goldilocks joke (Oh, yes, you're just right for me), and it wasn't long before he started calling her Goldie. Never babe, never baby; Goldie. Always Goldie.

No one could ever call her Goldie again, and it wasn't because of the box of dollar store hair dye on the counter.

When Marigold grew tired of hating her reflection, she realized she needed to do something. This, this moping, or whatever she's doing... it's wasting her time. And even worse than that... she doesn't really care. But what can she do? Her friends had called to check up on her, of course, but her friends are all his friends.

And then... something clicked. The only way to get out of this... romantic slump is to go on a date. The idea made her whole body ache, and the last thing she wanted to do was see other people (let alone date them) but what else could she do?

Rebounds existed for a reason.

***

THREE MONTHS LATER