finding my ground {tom}
Oct 13, 2015 8:57:49 GMT -5
Post by k!ah on Oct 13, 2015 8:57:49 GMT -5
J e v
Sometimes it takes losing something to really understand how much you cared. I thought I hadn't cared about him much. He was just a guy I met on the beach. A guy who kissed me. A guy who I slowly came to care about- but had I loved him? Is this what it felt like to love? Loving someone has been something that I have never really been good at. Once a long time ago I used to love easily, without fear without pain, but now love was a challenge. I could barely bring myself to care about something let alone love... so why? why did it hurt so much to know that I would never see him again? It hurt so much that sometimes I felt like I couldn't breathe. My breath catching in my throat as I fought the urge to throw my fist into a brick wall. But what hurt the most was the fact that he didn't have to die. He didnt have to go into that arena. He choose to. He chose to die. To leave me behind, believing that no one loved or cared about him. It was harsh. It was sick and it was something that I struggled to forgive and wasn't sure if I would ever be able to forgive.
Closing my eyes for a moment I try to forget the way he had smiled at me all those times. I tried to forget the way his body was covered in blood as he died. I tried to forget the spark in his eyes. I tried to forget the way he looked as he took his last breath. It wasn't fair because he wouldn't feel this way. Once someone told me that death was something that didn't effect the individual, but something that effected everyone else. That dying wasn't meant to hurt the person who was losing their grip on life, but meant to mame and cause excruciating pain for those who love them. Once, a long time ago I wouldn't have believed that person. But today, now I did because Jay would feel nothing of this,he did not know what his death caused others to feel- did he even care as he volunteered his life away?
My eyes open and I push him out from my mind all together. No. No i did not love him. I could not love him, not after what he did. Not after he hurt me like this- maybe once I had loved him. But not now, not because I couldn't find it within myself to forgive him- and maybe that made me a bad person, hell I knew I was a bad person. Shrugging my shoulders I push the bar door open, a small bell chiming as I entered. I was dressed in all black, a leather jacket hugging my toned body and dark jeans. I barely look at the people around me as I head to a corner, ordering a few drinks before slumping down in a stool, shadows covering the features of my face.