Never fear! I shall never ever be upset with you over anything, it just isn't possible. I know I've said this on Tumblr already, but the internet trouble was driving me mad. Glad to be back though, and happy you like the sound of this.
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Authors Note
Sorrow chokes emotions too much for them to surface. If you have spent the vast majority of your life wondering why you are alone, you are doing it all wrong. Some say the key to achieving happiness is through a great amount of patience, but they are narrow minded. In life, if there is something you crave, you must go out and find it yourself. Lingering in the shadows and waiting for your desires to pounce on you will do no good. There is no one but you who can create your destiny. No one but you who is able to perfect your life. Where love is concerned, matters are made much more difficult, however. One cannot simply go out in search of love and drag it back home kicking and screaming. No, in order to grasp and keep a hold of love, you must first learn to appreciate who you are. Complications may arise if this particular adamant lesson is not learned.
If you expect someone to fall in love with you, then you must surely love yourself first. Because, if you don’t think you are worth it, then no one else will think so either. Trust that you can find this; that you can strive to achieve it. It is not for the faint of heart, of course. Love has many a terrible road to travel upon, but for most, it is worth the excruciating pain it can cause. Hope is all you need to get by – believing that all will work out. Perhaps it will not, as you expect it to, but it will in some form. Try and try again if you fail the first few times. Love is always just around the corner, more so where and when you least expect it to be.
Trust only what you feel in your heart when it comes to love and devotion. Listen to your head if you must, but only when necessary. Your head, despite its logic, can often lead you down paths you later regret in life. Your heart tells you, always, your truest and deepest desires. Never fail to understand the power such an attraction can have upon your mind, body and soul. If you feel it everywhere, it’s a feeling you want forever, and you must be sure to remember just how important the other half of your soul is. Losing said half would only bring you torment; so be careful. Make no mistakes – but if you slip up – learn from them and don’t let it happen again. If everlasting love is all you’re searching for, make sure you do it right the first time.
Wasted words, moments, days, weeks, months and even years, will only be traumatic. Find what it is you’re looking for, get a good grip and never let go. If you’ve found your ideal match, they will never let go either. You’ll both fight for each other when times are tough. You’ll both be there for one another when life gets you down. And above all, you will love each other so much, it may feel painful when you are apart, which is a sure sign that you’ve done it right and earned all that you have within reach. Never let this go – never.
Chapter One {Neighbours}
I moved away from the coffee cup as the bitterness of its contents poisoned my tongue. The fact that I could not even properly brew a nice cup of decaf to begin my morning bothered me immensely. It was one thing after another these days; nothing seemed to go right for me at all. Even something as simple as boiling the kettle, tossing coffee beans into a cup and adding a few drops of milk. It also meant that my favourite breakfast would be an impossible task. Miniature pancakes, a dollop of cream and some raspberries. With a heavy sigh, I tossed the remainder of my drink into the sink which was already filled to the brim with tepid water. Bubbles floated on the top as though it had another coat, and I found myself barely able to see into the bottom. Again, something else I could not quite get right, no matter how many times I had tried.
Grunting in anger, I left the utensils where they were, allowing them to soak for a while longer. I had to get my mind off things somehow. There was little to do around here these days, especially over recent months. Losing someone I was quite close to and trying to come to terms with the fact that they wished to be cremated had taken its toll on me. No matter how hard I tried to ignore the aching at the pit of my stomach, it was always there, and I believed it always would be. My first loss – possibly the reason as to why I was taking it so hard. I also understood that my current state left me of little help to those around me. Family, to be precise. I’d shut myself out for the most part, after the horrible incident. But, that is a part of life. We live and we die and there is not a god damn thing we can do to prevent it. Some people wish to live, some wish to die, but for those of us who are hanging by a thread between the two, it’s complicated. Since that day some months ago, I was not the same person, and I wasn’t the only one who could see it. It was clear as day. Some had told me it was almost as though they received whiplash every time they spoke to me. I was bitter; void of emotion.
I felt enormous guilt every single day. Both for how I had turned into a completely different person, and for all the times I had opted out of certain plans involving the one whom I lost. Guilt, emptiness, anger, misery and god only knows what else, clashed within me every day. Numb would be a good a word as any to describe the way I felt in my core. My soul emanated absolutely nothing, but I knew not how long such a feeling would last. I could only pray that it wouldn’t stick with me throughout the rest of my life. Now, I had to be here for those around me, to look after everyone and keep their spirits lifted. Yet, I wondered how I was to do such a thing whilst my own spirits had been dampened. Somehow, I would have to try.
Love may have been a possibility. It is always a life saver – no matter what is going on with you at any given time. It always makes you feel more alive; free. Alas, it was the one thing I no longer had. Perhaps it might have given new meaning to my life after all that has happened, but all I am able to do now is wonder. To dream about all the ways in which it could have saved me; could. The word itself sounds hollow.
A faint buzzing sound entered my ears and broke my train of thought as I sat before my desk. My laptop was closed, as was my notebook. My pens and pencils lay scattered upon it. Maybe today still wasn’t a good day to pick up on my writing again. I’d been trying for weeks to get back into the swing of things, but had little luck. I felt as though everything was slipping away from me and there was nothing I could do to bring it back. I had, and these are all the words I needed to describe it, forgotten it all. My ability to write, my awareness of the world around me, and had completely lost the will to live. It felt as though the world was testing me somehow. This was a test for only me, because the weight I felt upon my shoulders seemed to grow each and every day. When one day passed, another brought on extra baggage for me to heave around.
Again, that same buzz snapped me out of my thoughts and brought me back down to earth, something that now seemed unusual. I lazily stood from my chair and trudged down the stairs. The outline of a shadow was visible behind the thin fabric of netting. I wondered, as I had not been expecting a visitor, who was standing on my porch at such an early hour. Regardless of the fact that it was actually after nine in the morning – I still found it confusing. Nonetheless, I pranced off the last stair and removed the chain from the door so I would not break the poor thing as I angrily greeted the intruder.
“Can I help you?” I asked, my annoyance quite clear.
On the other side of the door stood a man I never thought I would see again, not in a million years. In fact, I could have gone on believing it would be even longer still, had he not appeared out of the blue.
“I think you can” he said, his lips on the verge of a smile.
My bitterness toward everything included him, unfortunately. Though, in my defence, I was still rather irritated by the state in which we had parted ways many years ago. He should have understood that before he decided to knock on my door. It took little to no effort at all in realising my everything was still void of even a hint of emotion. Then, I wondered what he was doing here. After all this time, without any contact, why had he popped up out of nowhere and chosen to disrupt my already screwed up life.
I stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe as I waited rather impatiently for him to continue speaking, as there was no chance I’d be playing any guessing games. His smile still tugged at the corners of his lips, but it did not show. I wondered why – but didn’t much fancy asking.
“I heard, Catherine. I’m so sorry” he said, tilting his face toward his shoes.
Ah, so that was it. He had come all this way, interrupting his own life, just to give his condolences. I knew I should probably be thankful for him coming to see me, but he was too little to late if he thought showing that he still cared would phase me. My heart was now made of stone, or so it felt as such. Poor attempts at reaching its core would prove fruitless, no matter who was trying to achieve such a goal. Even I could not break its high walls lately. I had tried, countless times, to no avail. As we now stood opposite one another in silence, I suddenly felt uneasy. It had been such a long time since I had seen him, or even spoken to him, and here he was baring an open heart; and no doubt open arms for a long lost love. But I wouldn’t be buying into that again. I couldn’t, after all that happened. After broken promises and fading romantics, it would be impossible.
All I could do was nod my head, in response to his statement. I felt utterly ridiculous, which soon led to me feeling raw of anything. Some days I had spouts of emotion – they came and went as though they were dropping by just to say hello – and then they went. Today, right now, I couldn’t even bring forth a single hint of it. I must have appeared to him as a zombie of some sort. Dead to the world around me, without a need to bring myself back to life. It must have been frightening to witness from afar. What with my newly adopted pale complexion and battered arms and legs. My hair did not look any better than the rest of me, which was no surprise. It seldom ever looked decent. Now more aware of myself, I wrapped my arms tightly around my waist, almost protecting myself from everything around me, though I had nothing to fear. After all these years, I could still decipher that he wasn’t a threat to me. He never had been – and no matter what we’d been through – he never would be. That alone made me want to smile, but I found myself unable to do so.
“You came all this way to say you’re sorry?” I asked, tilting my head to one side.
Something flickered in his eyes and danced across his face as he absorbed my sarcasm. He never much liked it, but every now and then would find amusement in it, after adapting of course. Now, like mine, his face seemed to have lost all evidence of emotion. It was as though something had swiped it from him in a matter of seconds.
“No. Well, it wasn’t much of a distance. I live just around the corner,” he said, smiling awkwardly.
“Oh, you do?” I questioned, not in the least bit amused.
He nodded sheepishly, reaching his hand toward the back of his head and scratching it weakly. Now, I had made him feel rather nervous, and so he should. If there weren’t enough problems in my life right now. Maybe it was all just a game to him and he had purposely moved here just to torment me.
“When did you move?” I asked, hoping the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.
“A few weeks ago..” he mumbled, not daring to meet my eyes.
Fury; absolute fury and nothing more. I was amazed I could finally feel something, after all this time, but quite annoyed that it was such a cruel emotion. To have him move just across the neighbourhood and not tell me – made my blood boil. He had just stirred up an awful lot of hatred and he didn’t even know it. But if I am to be honest, I do not hate him. I couldn’t hate him. Many times had I tried to tell myself that I should, that it was the only way, but it just wasn’t possible. Either that, or my mind enjoyed playing tricks on me. Perhaps I was meant to feel all of this at once. Punishment, for something, though I couldn’t work out what.
Perhaps I had spent too many years doubting myself, as well as others. My negative attitude toward most things in life, including basic things, maybe this was my punishment; a lesson to learn from. Too often had people told me that only bad could come of such negativity, and too often had I ignored their words of wisdom. Only recently had I grown to understand fully what it all meant.
“Right” I said, reaching for the door to slam it in his face.
“Wait!.. I’m sorry, Cathy” he said, laying his hand on the door. “Can I come in?” he asked.
I was in no fit state to allow him inside, but the look on his face indicated that he really had to speak with me, so I gave in to temptation and opened the door a little wider. He seemed to force a smile as he stepped by me and into my home, glancing around as though highly intrigued. One of the few things in my life that had gone right was the interior and décor of my home. Being quite the artistic type, it was a given that my chosen colours, ornaments and oil paintings would be in such proper order. The colours, though I often liked to clash, were more or less complimentary of one another. But that was only the living area. The entire house had been painted and designed to my liking – as I am the one who spent at least a few months working on it all.
“Would you like a coffee? tea perhaps?” I asked, ushering him toward the sofa.
The sofa – an Irish cream colour, dotted with wine coloured pillows. It was by far my favourite piece of furniture in this particular room. My bed was easily the most treasured, out of everything I had.
“Coke, do you have any? or anything fizzy?” he asked, propping his elbow up onto the arm of the sofa.
I regarded him in silence for a moment, wondering why, now that we were older, he still craved such drinks. I realised too late that I was beginning to sound like my grandparents. But, it did make me smile a little at the thought of being like them. There was something else we had in common; something to add to the list I was currently creating in my head. The loss had left a gaping hole in my chest, solely because I could not figure out how connected we once were. Memories had faded over time as I had grown older, but bit by bit, they were coming back to me, more vibrant than ever before.
Nodding, I left him alone as he found the remote control and began flicking through every channel. Careless, in a way. Though I seldom ever turned the television on, so had no reason to complain.
Upon returning with two glasses of Pepsi, complete with a slice of lime and a straw in each, I found he had opted for the music channels. A smile played at the corners of my lips as a few memories flooded back, but I shunned them as soon as I caught his attention. The small, rounded coffee table between the sofa and a chair is where I chose to sit his drink. He had offered his hand out to take it from me, but I ignored him, intentionally. It didn’t seem to take him too long to understand I wasn’t in the best of moods, and that he wasn’t exactly in my good books. I didn’t even know how long it would be before I gave him a break.
As the television was quiet, silence fell upon us after he reached over for his glass and began sipping at his meekly. I was doing the same, however. Neither one of us knew what to say to the other, so there was a possibility that we’d be here for a while.
“So..” he said, breaking the silence, “How are things?” he asked.
I scoffed a little at his question. Surely he had not forgotten in such a short amount of time what had happened over the last few months. Still, he did not apologise or correct himself, he simply looked my way until I answered him. It took me a few minutes, but I came around.