DISCLAIMER: Text in italics: The Writer - Ellie Goulding
CHAPTER ONE : DENIAL.
Another gathering from our family, I'm sitting across Teddy, who's sitting next to Victoire, who has her hand on his and look at him as though she was going to eat him or something like that. But I don't want to think about it, not now. We made peace, or acttually I agreed to talk to him again more than we made peace. It's nice having him back in my life, even though I have to watch him playing the perfect couple with my cousin. We told everyone we had a fight, because I was feeling down because I had broke up with my « girlfriend », or more likely the other way round, so I was jealous of him. And they believed it. And now I'm playing the happy part, faking smiles at everybody, while I'm feeling really numb inside. I keep talking, about pretty much everything, to not have the occasion of thinking. And maybe, If I'm convincing enough, I'll also be able to believe it. Believe that nothing had happened, believe that I'm happy to watch Teddy with someone else, believe everything's really back to normal.
You wait for a silence, I wait for a word. Lie next to your frame, boy unobserved. You change your position and you are changing me. Casting these shadows where they shouldn't be..
Everyone slowly went to do something else, Adults went for a walk, Victoire sat with Lily and the other girls, talking about her future wedding, I was speaking with Al' and Hugo about quidditch or something like that, and you were listening to, although you did not really take a part in the conversation. It seemed to be a very normal day and I actually began to enjoy it. It was nice, not having to think about my thousand pieces' heart, the way our lips touched, the calm I felt before this storm. Then you stood up, saying you had something to do and that you were going home, you hugged me, and I felt everything falling apart again. All the walls I thought I built around myself to protect me, all the faking I could do, nothing had prevented me to feel so down again. Hugging you and knowing it would never be more, you would never be more to me, was just horrible, although you held me a bit longer than you should have. That cheered me up a bit but my heart was still aching.
We're interrupted by the heat of the sun, trying to prevent what's already begun. You're just a body, I can smell your skin and when I feel it, you're wearing thin.
But I said nothing and watched you go. After all, I didn't have something to say. I didn't want to break the semblance of relationship that we have. I wouldn't have been able to bear it. I'm lying on my bed now, thinking. At one moment, I even start drinking, and crying too, but after that, everything's blurry. And when I fell asleep, something kept going in circles in my mind :
But I've got a plan, why don't you be the artist; and make me out of clay? Why don't you be the writer and decide the words I say? Because I'd rather pretend, I'll still be there at the end. Only it's too hard to ask... won't you try to help me ?
The next time I saw you, you had invited me to come over to your flat. Victoire was out. You had prepared tea, and you had this marvelous grin on your face. My heart couldn't help but skip a beat. We talked a bit about our lives, I faked smiles, pretending to be happy with mine, to be happy for you. I drank tea, nodding and smiling, as you went on talking about how happy you were to have Victoire. And just as I thought I couldn't take it anymore and telling myself « you should be happy to still have him as a friend, you stupid » wasn't enough anymore to calm me down, I noticed that it was just a game you played. You weren't as happy as you pretended to be, and as much as I hated me for this, that cheered me up a bit. Then, you asked :
« Do you want to be my bestman ? »
I remained speechless. Were you really asking me to do what you just asked me to do ? Really ? You tried awkwardly to justify yourself.
« Cause you know, everyone is kinda expecting it and I.. You're like the most important person in my life, Jamie... »
« I will be », I finally said. And you began again to talk about how lucky you were to finally get married. Really, you repeated « lucky » so many times it seemed like you were trying to convince yourself of it. But as I watch you talk, I can't help myself but smile. Because I'm so glad, after all, to be with you, almost as if things were back to normal between us.
Sat on your sofa...it's all broken springs
This isn't the place for those violin strings
I try out a smile and I aim it at you
You must have missed it
You always do
It's the big day. You're getting married today. Hurray... We're all in the church, waiting for the ceremony to begin. I'm standing next to you, you're a little stressed out. Okay, maybe that's an euphemism. You're very stressed out. Almost naturally, I reached for your hand and squeezed it slightly, before letting go. You smiled at me, weakly. I responded with a nervous smile. Then music began, and Victoire began to walk down the aisle.
But I've got a plan
Why don't you be the artist; and make me out of clay?
Why don't you be the writer and decide the words I say?
Because I'd rather pretend
I'll still be there at the end
Then I sort of lost track of time. It was as if I was floating in the air, not being a part of the wedding. I wasn't able to distinguished any sound too. I was totally disconected from reality.
« Speak now or be quiet forever ».
It took me back to reality.
And that's when you suddendly turned to me.
Only it's too hard to ask... won't you try to help me
You're looking even more nervous than before. As if you expect me to say something. Something to keep you from all this insanity, from all these things you never dreamed about. But I'm feeling too numb to even process something to say. I just stare back at you, mouth open wide.
You wait, I wait, casting shadows, interrupted
Victoire has noticed you turned to me. She can't read our mind, but she's not stupid. You're glaring at me, and I'm looking as if I'm about to speak, she has surely noticed that something's going on. She mouthed something to me. It looked like « what the fuck are you doing ? » or maybe « don't you dare fuck up my wedding ». But maybe it was just « fuck fuck fuck fuck », I don't know. The whole room is starting to noticed something is about to happen.
You wait, I wait, casting shadows, interrupted
You're still glaring at me. Maybe, I read it wrong. Maybe you're just telling me « don't you dare speak Jamie, don't screw up my life ». Maybe you don't want me to speak. Maybe you don't want to be save. Maybe, I'm made this up, because that's what I would want you to want me to do.
« Excuse me, are you going to say something, or could we go back to the wedding. »
I turned to the man who spoke, then to you again. I breathed in and out.
You wait, I wait, casting shadows, interrupted
You're still looking at me, and I don't know what to do. I'm lost, I feel like I can't breathe anymore, I'm going to have a panick attack or something. I want to cry, I feel like I'm crying but my cheeks are dry.
You wait, I wait, casting shadows
Finally I speak. « No ». And the whole room sighed with relief. I feel like my whole family is stabbing me with their eyes in the back. Victoire turn her head away from me. You don't. I look at you, my eyes say something like « please. Please, please, please, please. Don't do this. » You finally turn your head away from me. And the speaking begin again, but I'm not listening. I search for the ring when you ask for it, as if it wasn't me that was acting.
Why don't you be the artist; and make me out of clay?
Why don't you be the writer and decide the words I say?
Because I'd rather pretend
I'll still be there at the end
Only it's too hard to ask... won't you try to help me
I'm still having trouble to breathe. And that's when it hit me. You won't help me, you won't back away and say you can't do all of this, you won't turned around and come back to me. You've given up on me. You've turned your back to me, you're going your own way. You're starting a new page of your life, a life in which I don't think I can ever fit.
As you reach for the ring, I suddendly let it fall on the floor.
« I'm sorry », I say, « But I can't do it ».
And I run out of the room. Away from you.
Why don't you be the artist; and make me out of clay?
Why don't you be the writer and decide the words I say?
Because I'd rather pretend
I'll still be there at the end
Only it's too hard to ask... won't you try to help me
