heartbreak on your face

IV; Under the Sheets – Ellie Goulding

–

Life goes on.

And that's what scares her most, really.

Life continues, even when the air she breathes freezes against her lungs and she can't remember how to inhale, or when the world feels like its ending.

It goes on and on and on, never stopping once.

–

Momo thinks of him, just before her eyes close and the movie's credits roll. She's flying, farther and farther away, and somehow, she feels cold, even though there's a blanket wrapped around her, making her feel secure.

Yet she can feel him, his warmth remains with her, close to her heart. Always.

She doesn't want to forget that moment, when they parted and gave one final hug.

She doesn't want to forget how his eyes say goodbye; in that sorrowful away that leaves her feeling guilty and unsure what to think.

Unsure whether to leave him.

But she has to – she's going to America.

It's an opportunity. A chance. A risk that she knows that will be worth it.

Even so, she wonders.

Would it have been better if she had said something different?

But sometimes goodbye rings louder than I love you.

–

It's not fair, she thinks, pen hovering over paper.

Dear Izuru,

She crosses it out.

Izuru-kun,

No, that's not right either.

Dear Izuru,

That will have to do. For now. She can change it later. Find the words that make it right.

She takes a breath, rubbing her eyes because of crocodile tears. They must be. They have to be.

She doesn't get to miss him. That's not how it works.

How are you? Are you alright? What about Renji? Is he still going steady with

Not the way she does.

I'm fine. I

She puts the pen down. Tries to fight the tears that fall like rain, sliding down her cheeks.

She starts again.

Hey, Izuru.

How are you?

I'm sorry

It was she who ended things. It was her who decided that they were better as friends.

Dear Izuru,

I (miss)

And he…

I (want to say)

I (still)

I'm sorry I have written to you yet. I guess I've been busy. But really, it's just that I

"Oh, kami." And she can't stop it, the tidal wave of emotion that crashes all around her. She thinks she's drowning, and she can't smile when there's nothing—no air to inhale.

I

She didn't get to miss him. Not the way she does.

–

(Momo scrunches up the paper, then unravels it and tears it into pieces.

Nobody should know.

Not even him.)

Instead of paper, she uses her skin; writing the words in hope of it being similar to a tattoo.

She wants those words to be embedded on her flesh, never to fade.

–

Life goes on.

That's the problem.

Five years pass too easily, too quickly.

By then, permanent ink has washed away, lost and forgotten too many times.

But what it represents clings to the cold beat of her pulse.

–

Her bags are packed, and maybe now she'll find that place that is meant to be called home.

If only she could find her heart too, a pretty trinket that was left behind along the way.