Pictures of You
I've been looking so long at these pictures ofyou
That I almost believe that they're real
I'vebeen living so long with my pictures of you
ThatI almost believe that the pictures are all I canfeel
I found his pictures in December. They were bundled together under the floorboard – one I had never before noticed was loose. It took me a long time to look at them, thought I knew instantly what they were.
That and the CD – seeing them, remembering them hurt me. He hadn't left a note, or a reason. Just the pictures and the CD. Small mementos, but they hurt to see. I put them high on a shelf in the back of my closet, not willing to look at them. I wasn't willing to remember.
But I couldn't hold out for long. A rainy day in February found me all alone, sitting in my room. I couldn't go see Jake that day, as much as I wanted to. I'd been wanted to see him for a very long time, but I'd kept making excuses. Today was Valentine's Day – how could I see him? How could I let him see me like this? Boredom and heartache found me taking the pictures down from the shelf, and bringing them back to my bed to sort through.
Remembering you standing quiet in the rain
AsI ran to your heart to be near
And we kissed asthe sky fell in
Holding you close how
I always held close in your fear
Remembering yourunning soft through the night
You were biggerand brighter than the snow
Andscreamed at the make-believe screamed at the sky
And you finally found all your courage tolet it all go.
At the first picture, I gasped. It was the picture that had bothered me so many months ago – the one of him standing with me in the kitchen, with his warm eyes and his easy smile. His arm wrapped lightly around me protectively, like he cared. I tried to soak in every detail of that perfect face, though my eyes blurred with tears and the picture went fuzzy.
No.
I shoved the picture away. In that moment, everything was crystal clear. I knew why he'd left me. Just a glance at my face next to his confirmed everything I'd always known. He was perfect. I was plain. He had every reason to leave me.
Looking So long at these pictures of you
But I never hold on to your heart
Looking so long forthe words to be true
But always just breaking apart my pictures of you
The pictures stayed with me for a long time. After Jacob changed, I looked at them when he went out on runs with his pack brothers. It was like a guilty pleasure. I hated the pain, but it felt good to remember. It felt good to feel anything anymore. I knew Charlie was worried. He had gotten so used to my recovery that my sudden depression confused him. He hadn't understood that I was never really healed. What he was seeing from me now, I knew, was what he had been waiting for when he had only just left me. Charlie wasn't expecting to see it now.
The pictures became a part of me. When I was alone, I could look at them and remember. The pain started to fade around the edges, because in these memories I at least knew that he loved me. It was so clear in his eyes. I could sink into painful imaginings, in which everything was still okay.
I've been looking so long at these pictures ofyou
That I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are all I canfeel
If only I had thought of the right words
I could have hold on to your heart
If only I'd thought ofthe right words
I wouldn't be breaking apart allmy pictures of you
Then I would fall back into nightmare. I would remember why he left me, and I would wake screaming again. It was me, all along. I didn't know why I let myself live those fantasies, because they hurt too much.
Remembering you fallen into my arms
Crying for the death of your heart
You were stonewhite so delicate lost in the cold
You werealways so lost in the dark
Remembering youhow you used to be
Slow drowned you wereangels
So much more than everything oh
Holdfor the last time then slip away quietly
Openmy eyes but I never see anything
If only I had thought of the right words
I couldhave hold on to your heart
If only I'd thought ofthe right words
I wouldn't be breaking apart allmy pictures of you
In one of my dreams, he lay beside me in bed and held me. It felt so real – the scent of him, the feel of his cool skin against me. I burrowed deeper into the cool circle of his arms, where I felt like I belonged. Being held by Jacob wasn't like this – not at all. I loved Jacob, but he wasn't Edward.
"Bella?" he whispered into my ear. I felt the chill of his breath down the back of my neck, and shivered in my sleep.
"Bella, I love you."
I wanted it so badly to be true. My heart filled and burst with longing, and tears ran down my face. "Edward –" I choked.
When I woke then, I expected him to be there. He wasn't. There was just a horribly empty place in my bed, and a hollow ache in my heart.
Thinking past the tears, I knew this had to stop. There was no way I could go on like this. It was unhealthy, and horrible. My trembling hands found the box of pictures, and I clutched it close to my chest, absorbing the memories for one last time. Then, as Charlie was gone, I went downstairs and dumped the box in the sink.
The matchbox wavered in my hands, the burning flame dancing uncertainly. I made myself look away. I made myself drop the match. And then I watched Edward's pictures burn. There would be no more memories to haunt me from now on.
I was truly and completely alone.
Looking So long at these pictures of you
But Inever hold on to your heart
Looking so long forthe words to be true
But always just breakingapart my pictures of you
There was nothing in the world that I everwanted more
Than to feel you deep in my heart
There was nothing in the world that I everwanted more
Than to never feel the breaking apart
All my pictures of you
Please Review. Writing this made me pretty down.