Cimorelli One Shots

four (pt.3)

300 WORDS:

"Six, but we've had to say goodbye to two."

. . .

They would always be six.

Maybe not physically, maybe two would no longer be present, but in their hearts would always be six.

And as cringey as it sounded, it was the only thought keeping her alive.

The water was so high.

Surrounding her from all sides inside her mind.

She wanted to throw a pair of goggles to her brain, perhaps they would ease the trauma, the torment.

But that's the thing with internal battles.

They're internal.

You can punch and kick and scream all you want.

You can visit therapist after therapist.

You can break habits and make new ones.

But nothing will help, nothing will do anything to the vicious war inside your mind until you actively do something.

Because at the end of the day, the only person who can help you, who can really help you, is yourself. 

People can give you advice, can offer words of comfort and support, can be a lighthouse in the midst of the dark sea on a windy night, but you are the only one who can change you.

But she didn't want to change herself.

She liked the pain.

Perhaps she liked the pain because she liked the feeling.

Perhaps she liked the feeling because before she was "depressed" she was nothing.

Perhaps feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all.

Perhaps the fact that she could feel something, she could feel the hurt, was proof that yes, she was alive and well.

Maybe not well, but still, alive.

Before she didn't know.

But the feeling was numbing as time passed.

And the rain continued to fall.

And although she hated it, she learned to swim.

And although she hated it, she learned to smile.

And although she hated it, she learned to accept their deaths.

However, she also learned how to hold her breath.

I find peace in the rain.