Bleeding Through the Cracks

by

FallenMidnightAngel

You sit on the couch, wondering how it all went ohsohorribly wrong. One day it seemed like the horizon was just brightening with the promise of forever, and the next, it looked impossible to see what you might have just imagined. You can feel yourself seeping away, spilling over and falling through the cracks that he made in your shell. You were so very afraidlonelybroken, and he fixed you, or so you thought. For a moment you think how amazing it is how the one person who fixed you can break you just as easily, and you laugh at the bitter truth – he has ruined you. The one person who completed you has ruined you, but yet you love him so much that you cannotwillnotnevercan blame him.

As you fall into silent reveries of days past, you can see those hauntingmysteriouseerie eyes, as fresh as the day you first saw them, breaking through your outer shell and, seemingly, into your dusty soul, something which you thought you had cast out long ago. You cannot help but smile as you remember his beautiful amber eyes – who could scowl at them? Perhaps a Lucian, but you are not a Lucian, nor are you an EkaterinaJanusMadrigal. You are the strongest of them all, a Tomas, but you shatter to tiny pieces of rapturedelighthope when you see him. Or, rather, saw him, for you know now that he has truly vanished out of your life forever.

He could make you feel unique, like you weren't just made out of muscles and cruel words. He made you feel something that no one else could – beautifulelegantworthsomething. And then you learned that it was all a lie. The thought flashes through your mind that he is very much like a snake, which is very fitting, seeing his familynamebranch. You used to almost worship him like a god, but now you find it difficult to imagine his face without adding the tongue of a cobra. He fed you lies, and you readily ate them, wanting to rebel from your family's strict rules. You fell in love with him, and he hid his smirk as you did.

You want to hate him. You wish you could, yet you know that you nevernevernever can. For how can you hate a person who is a part of you? You can try, but you will always fail in the end, because hating a part of you is hating yourself, and he made you feel so beautiful that you can never hateloathedislike yourself again.

You remember your final days with him. Sharpies and sticky-notes made up your last memories. You would stay up late and get up early, yet you wouldn'tcan'twon't see those molten amber eyes again except in your dreams made of longinglovingleaving. You would write notes with colorful Sharpies on colorful sticky-notes, hoping that you would make him smile (they always contained messages that said, in complicated ways, 'I love you!'), and he would respond with black Sharpie on yellow sticky-notes, as plain as could be. You eventually thought that maybe, just maybe, he had grown bored of you, was betraying you, but you loved him so much that you were blind to his deceit and smiled through what you thought were silly ideasbeliefsnotions.

Only when he was gone and you found the evidence of his betrayal did you realize that they weren't just ideasbeliefsnotions. Only when he was gone did you realize that they were the truth.

But by then it was too late. By then, it was fartoolate to empty out the lies he had told you. And so you sit on the couch and bleed through the cracks, wondering what you ever did to make him not love you.

I went through this a million times, but I bet that there are so many tense (and everything else) mistakes that it's not even funny. However, mistakes and all, I do rather like this piece of writing. I wrote it in a day (after a very hasty entry to Another Artist's contest), then stayed up until two in the morning changing things. I hope that you enjoy it! ^^ In case you didn't get it, it's Ian and one of the Holt sisters (I imagined Madison – she needs more spotlight on here!).

Final word count: 621 words.

Date posted: 5/25/11.

~Ari