Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.
The Business of Pain
She knows what it feels like to hemorrhage. Her heart bleeds slowly, profusely with each day that passes- an imaginary internal injury that couldn't feel more real.
Ironically it makes her feel alive.
She doesn't push the pain away; she welcomes it because it serves as the only reminder that her life was once free of pain, completely free of void.
A constant aching hole does something to a person. It makes her change, makes her adapt, makes her scream, but mostly makes her aware.
It's always there, like the freckle on her stomach and the scar on her arm, but she knows that it doesn't have to be this way. She knows that she allows it to remain. The pain is removable. The pain is a leech and a parasite that she willingly lets attach to her being, sucking her dry.
Of course she never expected the pain to ever disappear. How could it when she holds on to it so tightly?
But it does lessen. It almost fades completely because Jacob is bright and Jacob is real and Jacob is there.
He becomes her new reminder to get up in the morning and have breakfast. He makes her feel able to look forward to a deep conversation and a trip to the city dump.
He fills her with a hope she thought was reserved for fools and those who weren't concerned with ever after and lullabies.
And when she wasn't looking, when she finally had the chance to breathe, she noticed the hope creeping in.
Maybe she was a fool after all.
Maybe one could possibly get over their soul mate.
Maybe a rejected, listless, alarmingly regular girl could be special again.
But then Jacob is telling her goodbye and the pain returns like an old friend that you've simply grown apart from after time and life have changed you. She welcomes it no longer.
And this time it's different.
Now there is a new pain along with the prior ache, one that she never expected, and one that she never asked for. It blends perfectly with the old pain. It weaves through her body in a pattern of confusion and need and want.
This pain dominates her senses and pushes her thoughts into a corner. It burns into her heart and cauterizes the hole in her chest.
She knew what it felt like to stop hemorrhaging, to start healing. Now she is aware- not of the cause of injury, but of the stitches. Of course nothing comes without a price.
She ultimately decides that this pain needs to be repaired, and she cannot simply let go.
Jacob can fix it, he has to- he must.
And when he comes to her room that evening she is ready to face the truth.
Because why should she suffer through twice as much heartache than necessary?
And why does Jacob have to make her feel like she'll die if she doesn't lay a hand on him and absorb some of his hope.
When he speaks it's a blur of I wish and I can't and if only that she doesn't care about anymore. She has her own list. She wishes she could have been smart enough to see this earlier, when he still wanted to be friends, if only she wasn't so blinded by the voice of unreason.
He hugs her and the idea of being without him becomes unbearable. The blend of solaced anguish seeps into her blood and sparks her senses back to life.
It's all she can do not to react, not to try to get rid of this new pain and replace it with some sort of happiness.
So she grabs his face in her hands and silences him with a kiss. She ignores the pain and embraces the hope.
His lips are warm and hesitant. He kisses her back, all sloppy and wet and shaking. He's shaking so strongly that she has to hold him tightly against her body and that seems to do the trick. She imagines that he's just as nervous as she is.
When his body finally calms she continues her unyielding hold, running fingers through his cropped hair and down his bare back. His kiss is new and different and the pain feels miles away.
And he's also touching her, branding her waist with his too hot hands and sending electric impulses down her spine and he's so strong and sure now that she doesn't believe this started with I can't.
She feels like she can. Now she can do anything because the doubts are gone, and Jacob is back.
But before she has the chance to open her eyes, he's apologizing and jumping out of her window to the ground below.
So, maybe she shouldn't have been so hopeful.
Maybe, once the shock wears off, he'll come back and tell her more about why memories matter- why all of a sudden he's so agile and angry at life like she once was- still is.
She watches Jacob's fleeting form and her curiosity means nothing because she notices that this second pain is still pure agony. It hasn't left at all.
She doesn't know how she'll survive having both.
But she'll hold on to this pain all the same, eager to make the same mistake twice.
She believes there's still a chance for hope and ever after, because she knows deep down that Jacob will keep his promise.
And ironically this pain makes her feel alive, too.