Marissa held a pillow over her head trying to block out the sound of someone hammering on the door. She knew it was him, and she was scared that if she let him in literally, it would be like letting him in figuratively too. She knew, however, that she was going to have to talk to him eventually. She felt like she owed him an explanation, somehow, which was stupid, because she couldn't even explain herself in her head. The thought of expressing those thoughts to him made her head hurt.
He wasn't giving up, the knocking continuing, becoming louder. She would never have thought he'd be the type to beg, but the words currently spilling from his mouth made her rethink that theory. Removing the pillow from her head, and wincing at how loud he sounded away from that comfort, she threw it away from her. Frustration had overtaken the intense depression she'd been feeling lately, and the pillow wasn't the first object to be thrown across the room.
He was refusing to leave until she spoke to him. She couldn't help but tell him that he'd be waiting there for a long time, because she simply didn't want to speak to him. He told her she was lucky that he was there, that he was able to forgive her. She said she hadn't done anything wrong, the number of lies she had now told increasing by one more. She'd been wrong, but so had he. Two wrongs can't make a right, and maybe that's why she and him didn't, couldn't, work together.
Now the phone was ringing, and he was still waiting, and all she wanted to do was scream. She wanted to scream at him, and let him know about all the times that she had pictured Alex's face while she had been with him. She wanted him to hurt the way she did, because that way she wouldn't be the only one. She wasn't low enough to follow through on those thoughts. Maybe, another time, she would have. She would have been selfish. She wouldn't have considered his feelings for a second. But now she knew how easy it could be for one person to break you. A few muttered words, meaningless words, and you're left broken.
Sometimes, it felt as if Marissa had spent half her life crying, and she still didn't know why. Her feelings of happiness had always been overshadowed by sadness, and it didn't make sense to her. It wasn't that she had a horrible life, she didn't at all, but there was something that held her back from enjoying it the way she should. Alex had helped her to see that, and now she needed her more than ever, and she wasn't here. The fact that it was her fault that Alex wasn't here was the foremost thought in her mind, and right now, it hurt so much that she was having trouble breathing.
Then there was silence. It was absolute, and Marissa felt like she could be crushed under the weight of it. The noise had made her angry, frustrated, but the silence was far more powerful. She'd always thought that words were heavy. They were the ones that hurt. But sometimes, silence hurt too.
Summer was usually Alex's favourite season. But this summer, without Marissa had made Alex long for autumn days when the wind blowing would make the silence seem less significant, to give it volume somehow. Nothing made sense in her world anymore. She couldn't help but feel that, even though she knew that the world hadn't really changed. Maybe she had changed. It should have been for the better, but here she was at one of the lowest points she had ever been.
Alex wanted the world to go back to being logical, the way it was when she was too young to see its flaws. Her flaws. When you're young and people tell you you're perfect, you don't even think to question it. It just is. And you think that's the way it will always be. Alex did. Until she didn't. And then the world wasn't perfect, and she wasn't perfect, but damn it she'd thought that her and Marissa were perfect. Until she couldn't anymore.
There was a broken string on her favourite guitar, and she didn't even try to fix it. When she tried to play, the music didn't come out right, her fingers slipped awkwardly on the frets and she tried to remember a time when music alone could comfort her. Now she didn't even have the feelings to create the music, craving her instead. Songs that she'd written, hidden in a box, love that she'd hidden, written on pink paper. She'd never liked pink before Marissa. There were a lot of things she wasn't before Marissa.
She was stronger, somehow. She had control over her feelings, at least, and that was practically the same thing. Now she didn't know what to do most of the time, and when her head was free of the clouds that had been surrounding her, she couldn't do anything but give into the overwhelming urge to sleep, hoping that when she woke up she would be okay. That her thoughts would have magically cleared and she wouldn't have to think about things she didn't want to. People she didn't want to think about. It never happened the way she wanted it to.
She was determined to change that. It was time for a new start. Her head was telling her that much, but she didn't want to get her heart fixed and broken all at the same time. That was what she was afraid of, but right now, there was a voice in her head telling her that she should just take a chance. That she might never get one if she just let it go. She couldn't let this go, couldn't let her go. It was up to her to change things now. Then maybe they really could be perfect together, without having their dreams shattered.