Hi~Today it's a double present day!So this one is a really angsty story written after listening to an album of my friends, just scribbled in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and was as always thinking too much =.=I wanted to try and take a different take at things here, not clearing up anything else but the story of the main character.Also, it's rating T because there are few things mentioned, but it's not cleared up, so... yeahAs always feel free to leave reviews~Hope you enjoy "A.k.
Ever since he left everything seemed useless and meaningless. The warm smile that used to warm up the coldest days was gone. The strength to overcome any obstacle was gone. It's been already two years and if before was hard, no one had ever prepared him for how hard was loosing the only love one would have.
You'd ask why only one love? There are people who just can't love more than once, it's just that simple. They can go on with their lives, but as empty shells without a reason. Some were fine, and some lost control.
He was still holding onto last strings of... something, he didn't even know what it was. Was it hope or madness already? The first year hope was still very much alive and it made sense.
The second year, everything that could go wrong actually went wrong.
One person can take as much as... well as much as one can, everyone has different capacity for shit in their life, obviously. He tried to keep on being positive through the constant problems for the first few months. Then, when he became totally alone he was keeping up the fake game of politely taking part in social life and activities, but when yet another person turned out to be only using him for their own profits, he just stopped. He went back to being fake. But turns out that once you've been changed by this one person, you'll stay like this, so he was just trying to protect himself, but still couldn't. Not completely at least, which made him vulnerable more than ever. And people kept using him, even those who were his fiends for the first year, now turned out to be blaming everything on him, using him when needed and if he needed them, they were surprising unable to help.
Of course he had two or three friends that he could count on, but he couldn't rely on them completely - he didn't want to bother them too much, being scared that they'd get tired of him and throw him away like a trash he though he was.
He had always thought that he was born without love, only used by his parents to turn on each other, never good enough, never being able to do what he wanted - he was caged and his wings were cut from the beginning.
But when he met him, everything suddenly disappeared, like in the dark cellar where he was kept, someone tore down the walls and roofs to let him breathe with fresh air and taste the sun. Without a bit of hesitation, not even thinking, he trusted him and not even knowing when it happened, his tiny protected heart was in his hands.
Being born without love means that everyone would think that you're... not really a bad person but, you're bad for their business. And even the short love he felt, turned out to be bad business for others. They took him away from him, and without a word of explanation, just like that, abruptly, everything ended. Suddenly the cellar was deeper and tiny bit darker.
Never say that nothing can be worse than a situation you're currently in, because it can be. That's what he thought, but no one knew that first year would be a constant on-and-off with him again - probably in secret, whenever he needed him, he contacted him again, and when he was too bothered by his person, he cut all contact off. Until first anniversary.
Before that day, he cut everything off faster than you could say "hello". And on the day of his birthday, he saw his car, standing nearby the place they were supposed to meet.
Since that day, the cellar was only getting deeper, and it wasn't so pleasant - all concrete like it used to be. No, now it was wet, sticky mud instead of hard cold ground and he just kept digging in deeper and deeper with his bare, hurt and bleeding hands.
But of course it wasn't like that from the beginning, at the beginning he still had hope.
Then everything went down.
And it kept going down.
He thought that maybe some time to heal his soul would give him new perspective on things, give him new strength to still believe. And it did, only for few days. Then everything came back. The reason for that was that everything around him reminded him of him.
He hoped that the world would give him just a chance to talk to him one last time, but it never did. He could never meet him. Of course not before few days before the second anniversary, and he couldn't do anything. The world just wanted to reassure him that he was still very much indeed in love and that he was his "red string of fate". Second anniversary was spent... alone - just walking mindlessly in the middle of the night. Night was his favorite time, there wasn't a lot of people and he could wear his emotions on his sleeves.
Sometimes he seemed fine with how the things worked like now, he seemed even content with the fact that he was able to grow and become better for him. But then the world made sure that he won't feel too good about himself.
So how much can one person take?
By the time second break up anniversary was impeding, he found himself lost.
Wanting only wrong things, just because he knew by now that the world was cruel and it never gave you good things when you actually needed them. Digging deeper into mud, probably just digging a disgusting grave where no one would ever find him. On the other hand he found other things that just made him feel numb. He didn't feel happy anymore. He just wanted to numb the pain, forget about it for just few seconds.
He got lost without the brightest star on the night and day skies. He was both, his sky and his ground. But when you loose it you're in... between.
You're lost.
He was lost.
