Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself
She never spoke to me after that day. I was merely left with the satisfaction that I'd shown her the love and compassion she'd needed to see. We both grew up and apart but I always kept my eye on her; making sure that if she was go breakdown again, I'd be there.
Hidden in the public eye
I was an outcast to say the least. My friends were hardly on the radar of most of Tree Hill High. They were good people, though, real people. People who knew me and looked out for each other, or at least I know I looked out for them. We didn't hang with the cool crowd but we had our own parties. Those endless nights staying up late and playing heart-pounding games of three on tree at the river court I will never forget. It was the way I liked it.
She became a cheerleader with her best friend, ironically. Again she fell into the pattern of fake smiles and forced happiness. It was perfect. Everybody knew her as the sarcastic bitch but still, everybody knew her. She was popular, on the list for all of the best parties and sought after by all of the hottest guys. She was Tree Hill's venomous temptress and she knew it. But that was all everyone knew her as. They didn't know the pain and they didn't know the demons she dealt with daily. That was the way she liked it.
Such as stellar monument of loneliness
She was still stunning; no longer the lovely little girl but a beautiful shadow of a woman. I was still in love with her. I still knew her. She surrounded herself with friends and a half-ass boyfriend to hide from herself. She overshadowed her unrelenting grief with lust and desire. However, as good as she was at coming off as an item of desire, she couldn't hide it from me.
On occasion, I would see her sit in the park beside the lake and draw. There, she sat slumped over her work but completely engrossed in it. As she drew on the paper, I saw the real emotions emerge on her face. She lay hidden among the trees and no teenager hung out in the park so she was safe from the world. My heart plummeted at the sadness and morose abandonment apparent on her down-turned lips.
I saw her at parties too, on the rare occasion that my friends and I got bored. She was in lively hysteria as she laughed with her friends and her eyes glistened but they never glowed. Later, as the evening carried on and everyone got wasted, she would migrate out to the back porch and stand against the rail. Her silhouette is what would catch my eye, the slim frame topped with flowing curls illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun. Even with her back turned, I could see her loneliness and if I was quiet, she would let me stand with her and gaze up at her walls that I would some day tear down again.
Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes
She kept that façade up everywhere else. The beauty radiated off of her as her face glowed with pride in her school's basketball team record. She cheered and carried on waving her pom poms and jumping around; getting the crowd as excited as she was. She would sometimes lock eyes with me and I saw her mask fall if only for a second. She knew I had that power and for that reason alone she steered clear of me. She couldn't risk letting it all fall apart again.
Perfect makeup but you're barely scraping by
I wanted to see her, the true her, again. When the day came I felt a glimmer of hope that I could find her if I only looked in the right place. Snatching a light jacket off of the rack, I left my house and jogged to the cemetery as grey skies collected overhead.
Sure enough, there she was; on her knees again in the presence of that looming tombstone bringing her best wishes. I didn't approach her just yet but I looked on fondly as she laid a dozen roses at the feet of the carved stone. From where I stood, I could see she hadn't cried yet and her mascara was still fresh bringing out the captivating green more than ever.
But you're barely scraping by
I began my walk towards her sullen frame as she began to trace the letters of the name engraved in the glassy slate of stone. With each letter more tears fell and dripped off of her chin and onto her knees. She never looked up at me but I knew she saw me. She knew I was there.
Well this is one time
I sank down into the damp grass. Her gaze stayed on the lettering of the tombstone and her eyes shone with unshed tears. Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and I ran my cold, rough fingers up and down her bare arm.
"Hey," I said, only audible enough for her to hear. I didn't get a response nor did I expect one, to tell the truth. The most I got was a blink with which a few tears spilled over unintentionally.
This is one time that you can't fake it hard enough to please
I reached up further and moved closer until our arms grazed. I wanted to pull the dangling curls from her soft-featured face and so I did. She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. I saw a couple more tears fall and I finally pulled her body in close to mine. She snaked her arms up my back and let her hands curl up over my shoulders and hid her face in the nape of my neck. It was mutually awkward considering we were both on our knees but I didn't dare let go.
Everyone or anyone at all,
Then the tears came again, slowly but surely. They began silently but evolved into heart-wrenching sobs. All of the regret and sorrow collided and catalyzed this secret breakdown. I rested my lips against her ear and whispered sweet nothings to calm her down. I felt like crying myself listening to her wails but I needed to be the rock this time. I felt her body convulse with every miserable sob and she nearly squeezed the life out of me but didn't mind. I will never mind.
Or anyone at all
She cried herself out until it was just silent tears and sniffles. It was then that I relocated us and carried her limp form to the same tree we laid against all those years ago. She remained in my arms for hours it seemed and my unwary hands drew soothing circles on her back. Shifting, she sat up slightly and rested her head under my chin snugly. I felt daring being so intimate with her that I pulled back slightly and planted an affectionate kiss atop her golden locks.
And the grave that you refuse to leave
I almost regretted my move when I felt her tense up against me. She turned in my lap to face me and lifted her hands to encompass the back of my head. At first my eyes wouldn't meet hers but as her fingers fiddled with my hair impatiently, I surrendered. Her emerald eyes opened up with such candor to me and I knew she was trying to let me in. I searched them for hesitation as she gradually closed the gap between us but I found nothing but desperation.
Both with eyes closed, we met for a sensual and heavenly kiss. I felt her body arch subtly towards mine and I let my hands glide up her back. Her lips toyed with mine as she lingered and then pulled back. I hoped to god that she wouldn't regret it.
The refuge that you've built to flee
Her eyes told a different story. They weren't completely blissful but satisfied. It was as if she'd just sated a prolonged hunger. My eyes urged her to continue but her expression merely turned to that of longing. She scanned my face as if committing it to memory and brushed a stray bang from my forehead before capriciously hopping onto her feet.
She plodded off towards her belongings and looked back at me still sitting in our treasured paradise. I caught her for a second contemplate staying but it was replaced with fear and dissipated behind the rebuilding of her walls.
The places that you've come to fear the most
She'd let me in for real that day. For the first time ever she allowed me to be her solace and her secret keeper. However, she was still scared. The last person she let in was ripped from her heart and left her beneath her crumbling life. I wanted to let her know that I wouldn't do that, I would never leave her. That understanding was unfortunately a two way street. If I was to be allowed into that perplexing and lonely head of hers, I would have to garner a place in her heart first.
Is the place that you have come to fear the most
Little did I know, I already had.