Who We Were | TWD²

.007

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

I push my way through the underbrush, feeling the briars catching on my clothes and holding on for dear life before I finally tear away from them. I grab onto the rough trunks of trees, picking up my pace as my stomach continues to turn, flipping over and over inside me. It's not until I finally emerge from the forest and stumble onto the road, landing on my hands and knees, when the nausea finally overcomes me, swallowing me whole. For a brief moment, I think I might just be sick. I switch from grasping onto my face to clutching my stomach, not wanting to lose what little food I've managed to get my hands on.

I want to stay here, unmoving as time keeps continuing around me, letting things pass while I remain in the same position, but I know that's not an option. I push myself back onto my own two feet, feeling my legs tremble under the weight of my body, and start walking in the direction of home. The sun has barely touched the center of the sky. It's hardly noon. I figure if I walk quickly enough, I'll make it back before dark.

Tears fill my exhausted eyes as nothing but defeat flows through my veins. I'm embarrassed to admit to being played. I can't believe that I sat there and let Carl say all those things to me, not knowing it was all just a ploy to leave me. It sickens me to know he didn't mean the shit he said half as much as he acted like he did.

Just this morning, I told him I loved him. I said I loved him! Now, that moment seems a million miles away, picked up by the wind and taken far from me, never to be seen again. The idea that I would've even thought of telling him such a thing makes me feel like there's nothing I should be sorry for because it means I meant it, but my mind screams at me to feel otherwise.

Since the moment he drove up to Enid and I in the car, I actually believed that he was worried about me - that he cared. Meanwhile, he was just trying to set up the plan as to how he'd leave me. I hate to admit that he did a good job.

Despite so much of me being filled with hatred and disgust, another part of me feels a tinge of guilt. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten so mad at him because what if something does happen. There's a very good chance that it will. The likelihood of Carl showing up to Negan's community and getting shot on sight by his people is becoming more and more real to me with each passing moment. Maybe I was mad at him, but maybe I'll be more mad at myself that I never got to say a proper goodbye to him.

That doesn't undo the other things he's done, I think to myself, but it doesn't help calm me much. What's done is done, but I don't know what's going to happen. Maybe I'll get to see his shining blue eyes again, or perhaps, the moment that I stood there yelling and cursing at him was the last time I ever will.