Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. And I also do not own the song Behind the Sea by Panic! At The Disco.
They told me to let her go.
And I did.
I swear, I did.
I let Clare Edwards slip from my slick hand, letting her fall right through my finger tips, not holding onto her like I should have. I followed their advice, I followed my own advice, and I let her go. I kept my head up high and didn't answer when she called my name. After the accident with Morty, I didn't want to speak to her. If I did, if I were to be stupid one day and talk to her, I knew that I would confess my soul. Confess my sins. I'd probably cry and tell her that I was scared. And being scared is an emotion that I'm scared of. (Ironic, isn't it? Being scared of being scared.) I'd tell her that I was scared of losing her and losing everything, because that's what happens when life is good. When life is good, it's good, but soon, very soon, you'll be on your back, from the world screwing you over.
They told me to let her go.
And I did.
But she didn't let me go.
She still held me in her sweet little palm. Every movement she made gripped me in a way that paralyzed me. Clare Edwards was my personal hell. Because she had moved on and I was stuck in the sound of her lips and the taste of her sweet, tender lips. I was too caught up in the way she walked to get over her. And if I was going to be honest, which I'm usually not, I'd tell you that I missed her. I'd also tell you that my heart is breaking. Breaking and cracking. Cracking and breaking. Either way, I feel like I'm dying. I feel like I'm nothing.
I know that I'm not nothing. But I'm not better than the dirt on your shoes. I'm not better than the sand that I'm standing on at this very moment. I'm not better than the waves that are crashing against my legs and pushing me forwards. I'm something, but nothing of importance. I'll never be good enough for her. Because she is everything.
And I hear her laughing. Trust me, I know that laugh better than I know the back of my hand. It's the laugh of an angel, if you want a corny line. It's sweet and pure, ringing throughout the air like the wind. You can hear it, but you can't see it. You can feel her laugh on your skin, but you still can't see it floating through the summer air. And when I close my eyes I can picture her. I don't have to look at her to know that she's laughing with that...boy. I don't have to look at her to know that she's looking at him with a certain look in her eyes. A look that I knew so well. And I didn't need to look to know that Clare Edwards looks beautiful.
My body shakes as I look around me. Everything seems surreal and so opaque. Everyone seems fake and I feel my breathing start to fade and I feel my eyes start to shut. And I feel my knees shaking. I feel like the world is trying to-
Like I said, the world will try to flip you over.
The world is slowly turning me in the air, shaking me around. I look to Clare Edwards, knowing that a look from her would me back on the ground where I belong. She's dancing and she's laughing and she's so...she's so lovely. Clare Edwards is something that my mind can't comprehend. She's someone and something that is alien to me and everything that I've ever known. But somehow, and I honestly don't know how, she's my home. She's the person that I look to. She's everything.
But I'm not hers. I'm just a disposable shit product that she'll never want again. And while I can't blame her, I just want her to look at me one last time. I just want her to glance at me and just smile. That's all I want. But she won't. She will never. And I can't blame her. I really can't.
It's funny. The beach is supposed to be a place of fun and friends and family. But I'm alone. I'm alone, in the sense of having no one next to me. But I'm also alone, in the sense of feeling it. Of feeling it in your fingertips. I'm alone and I can feel it spread throughout my veins, burning me at stake.
And maybe it was the thought of being alone, or maybe it was the fact that Clare Edwards wouldn't look at me, and actually, it might have been the fact that I knew that no one would notice, but I waded into the water, my clothes clinging to my every move. The sun was going down on me, the light fading from my dark body. I close my eyes, because even though the sun is almost down, it's still too bright for me to handle.
And I find that the farther I travel into the water, the more I feel myself becoming nothing.
And I'm starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, that's all I've ever been.
Maybe I'm just nothing. Simply Nothing.
...oh my god. I'm so sorry. ...This wasn't supposed to be so sad. I don't know why I'm writing so depressing stories.
Review, please? ;)