Eventually By Mallory Watley
IF LOVE WOULD HAVE SAVED HER, SHE COULD'VE LIVED FOREVER.
But love wasn't there, love had left her behind. No, love didn't save her, love left her drowning in her own tears when it got hard at three in the morning. Love had forgotten her, turned away from her and made her pick up the pieces of her broken heart by herself. Love had pushed her to the side, shut away from the light. So she feels the emptiness weighing her down every day. She feels the dread, the loneliness; it's heavy like an anchor, like lead is sitting on her shoulders. It feels like she's dying.
It’s interesting. She can feel sadness so deeply, she can feel anger so intensely; and yet she struggles to feel happiness.
His voice is still that deep, husky kind of sound that she has always admired, and that laugh that she just can't get enough of. He has the arms she wants to be wrapped in, the smile she wants to see everyday of her life, the lips she wants to kiss, the eyes she wants to look into, the voice she wants to listen to for hours and hours, the laugh that she can never resist and the heart that she has fallen in love with.
She thinks back to all those conversations, all the hugs, the stolen kisses they've shared through the past four years of knowing each other. She remembers how warm and safe she has felt every time she was around him, how comfortable she was when they hung out, how carefree her laugh would be. But to him, it was nothing.
Why did it have to be nothing? Why couldn't it have been something?
It truly amazes her. It honestly amazes Amanda how much one person can effect your entire day. How much one person, can make you smile, or break your heart into a million pieces. How one person can be the centre of your world, or be the one who crushes it.
It's just a game to him. It's always been some game. Some type of cat and mouse. Except, there's no way to win, because he just keeps acting like he loves her and then pushing her away. It's just a game to him. She knows this, but yet every time she reminds herself, it hurts just a little bit more.
He knows her all too well. He knows that she is as loyal as a golden retriever. He knows that she doesn't stop thinking about him, even if he's not thinking of her at all. He makes sure she keeps falling for him and he knows he won't be there to catch her; he makes sure she's still wrapped around his finger; but worse than that, he makes sure she trusts him. He will make her think that he's not like the others, even though he's right. He isn't like the others.
He is so much worse.
Because just when she got comfortable, just when she got used to the feeling of being wanted, just when she felt sheltered and safe with the feeling of finally being loved, he took it away. He stripped her of it, tore it out of her hands like it wasn't hers to have. Like he gave it to her by accident. And now, she keeps wanting to say it, she keeps longing for the words to leave her lips, "please don't leave me." But she can't do it, not again. She's already so tired of begging for people to love her.
But love wasn't there, love had left her behind. No, love didn't save her, love left her drowning in her own tears when it got hard at three in the morning. Love had forgotten her, turned away from her and made her pick up the pieces of her broken heart by herself. Love had pushed her to the side, shut away from the light. So she feels the emptiness weighing her down every day. She feels the dread, the loneliness; it's heavy like an anchor, like lead is sitting on her shoulders. It feels like she's dying.
It’s interesting. She can feel sadness so deeply, she can feel anger so intensely; and yet she struggles to feel happiness.
His voice is still that deep, husky kind of sound that she has always admired, and that laugh that she just can't get enough of. He has the arms she wants to be wrapped in, the smile she wants to see everyday of her life, the lips she wants to kiss, the eyes she wants to look into, the voice she wants to listen to for hours and hours, the laugh that she can never resist and the heart that she has fallen in love with.
She thinks back to all those conversations, all the hugs, the stolen kisses they've shared through the past four years of knowing each other. She remembers how warm and safe she has felt every time she was around him, how comfortable she was when they hung out, how carefree her laugh would be. But to him, it was nothing.
Why did it have to be nothing? Why couldn't it have been something?
It truly amazes her. It honestly amazes Amanda how much one person can effect your entire day. How much one person, can make you smile, or break your heart into a million pieces. How one person can be the centre of your world, or be the one who crushes it.
It's just a game to him. It's always been some game. Some type of cat and mouse. Except, there's no way to win, because he just keeps acting like he loves her and then pushing her away. It's just a game to him. She knows this, but yet every time she reminds herself, it hurts just a little bit more.
He knows her all too well. He knows that she is as loyal as a golden retriever. He knows that she doesn't stop thinking about him, even if he's not thinking of her at all. He makes sure she keeps falling for him and he knows he won't be there to catch her; he makes sure she's still wrapped around his finger; but worse than that, he makes sure she trusts him. He will make her think that he's not like the others, even though he's right. He isn't like the others.
He is so much worse.
Because just when she got comfortable, just when she got used to the feeling of being wanted, just when she felt sheltered and safe with the feeling of finally being loved, he took it away. He stripped her of it, tore it out of her hands like it wasn't hers to have. Like he gave it to her by accident. And now, she keeps wanting to say it, she keeps longing for the words to leave her lips, "please don't leave me." But she can't do it, not again. She's already so tired of begging for people to love her.