Terror

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I was screaming.

Yet I couldn't grasp a breath.

Against all efforts, nonetheless.

I was silent.

So, I guess I wasn't screaming.

But I tried.

I tried so hard.

Almost as if my voice was non-existent.

It didn't matter, because lately, my voice had almost seemed to have left my throat anyways.

Was this what dying felt like?

Helpless and tired?

She was only one touch away.

Just one, small inch, maybe even less.

And yet it felt like the distance between us was miles apart.

God damn, why couldn't I move?

Why couldn't I just reach out my hand and touch her?

And most of all, why couldn't I let go of the fear.

The panic.

The terror.

The heavy guilt that surrounded me day in and day out.

The things that even sleep wouldn't allow me to escape.

The things I wish I could say but know I'll never be able to.

And she would say, "Rose, lets go to the beach!" or "Rose, wanna hang out tonight?" or any other thing along those lines.

The ones that have stuck with me forever being, "I still wanna be with you." and "Let's just run away together."

If only we could be like that again.

I would change everything.

Instead of, "No, Luisa. We can't go to the beach, you're father's taking me out at 6." and "Luisa we can't run away together." It would have been, "Yes let's hang out tonight!" or "I still wanna be with you too."

Heaven.

Hell.

Love.

Hate.

Balance.

Fuck that.

Luisa was my balance.

The thing I needed so I wouldn't fall flat on my face.

The half that made me whole.

The only one who made it actually mean something when she said those three special words.

I would hurt.

But her love hid the pain.

More like swept it under the rug, I suppose.

Because the pain was never, truly, gone.

Just... hidden away.

Like an ugly truth.

Like the ugly truth about my past.

And the fact that no matter how hard I try, I can't undo it.

For gods sake, I can't even forget it. 

The trauma.

I want to.

So badly to where I'd kill for it.

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