Fifty-Four Days
It's been almost five years since that unreasonably cold night that changed my life. Sometimes, I can still feel the tightness in my chest and the weight of my bottled up emotions finally hitting me.
If I could relive everything that happened before that night, I wouldn't have been such a merciless drunk in those weeks since Mount Weather. I wouldn't have spent night after night, alone and crying in the dark. These days, I'm more certain of the things I wouldn't have been doing than the future. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't waste a moment trying to fuck girls I didn't give a shit about. I'm not even sure I would change all the bullshit my people, my friends, have gone through recently.
I realized that if I could rewind the clock, I would go home. I would take in the makeshift tents, and the crudely built protective wall around my camp. I would memorize the way the ground felt underneath my ratted boots, and the loud crunches of crisp leaves that once made my heart speed up. I would seek out every person that lost their life in those early days: Atom, Wells, Charlotte... I would talk to them, I would try to save them. I like to think I would be brave enough to walk into the drop ship and touch that old, metal table one last time. Oh, the miracles that had been performed on it...
I know I would find Jasper and Monty in the crowds of hormonal teenagers. I would relish in the fact that they aren't so beaten up by Earth quite yet.
Still, not anything I said would be the first thing I did if I could rewind the clock.
It's selfish, but it's true. I wouldn't save anyone. I wouldn't have overdue chats. I wouldn't find a cure for all our problems.
If I could go back in time, even if given just a few minutes on the clock, I would go back to the moment I met Clarke Griffin. I would focus on the way she called out to me, her stern order to keep the hatch closed. I would do my damnedest to burn the way she looked before Earth fully consumed her into my mind. Her clean, fair skin, her sparkling and angry eyes, her soft blonde hair: it would be etched into my brain permanently. I like to believe that's what I would hold onto the most. Her image. Her voice, her image, everything about her before things went to shit.
Then, I would look her in the eyes and tell her the truth:
"In exactly fifty-four days, our entire lives will be different, Princess. You don't know it now, but somewhere along the way you're going to be the second most important person in my life. I don't give a damn about you right now, Clarke Griffin, but I will." I like to think everyone will let me finish my long-thought out speech. I know better to think that Clarke would let me get in a few more sentences. Still, I'd try. "I know that I'm not making any sense because you don't know me, yet. But we're going to struggle together, we're going to fight together, and we're going to survive together. When I open this hatch, it's going to be hell. And I know it doesn't make much sense for me to be here right now, in probably the worst month of my life, but I'm here for you. I would rather spend the next fifty-four days of my life, reliving every horrible thing that happens to us if it means that I get to spend more time with you."
She might think that I'm deluded or that I hit my head on the way down to Earth, but if I only had a few more minutes left, I would tell her the truth. "I didn't know that I was in love with you until it was too late, Clarke. I didn't ask you to stay. I'd rather spend the next fifty-four days in repeated agony than keep on going the way things are, now. I love you, Clarke. I'm always going to love you until the end of my days and beyond. Even if you don't come home, even if you're with someone else, even if you're dead. I'm always going to love you."
I've thought about multiple moments when I could tell her these things. I could have told her before she sent me into the mountain. I could have told her the moment she decided to leave us. There were times. I just didn't know how I felt. I couldn't process it. But that night, I did. I knew that I loved her, and I had let her walk away.
It's been five years, now and I'm still lost in memories most days. Not a damn thing has changed. I still love her. I'm still waiting for her to come home.
And I will, until the end of my days and beyond.
Edited! Finally, it makes more sense to read. I wrote this based off an episode of HIMYM and it's most Bellamy thinking about what he might of done if he had a second chance.
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