CHAPTER TWELVE . Time Heals All Wounds [ Trigger Warnings : Panic Attacks ]
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Elijah Hewson always seemed to be lost in a world of his own, one that she wasn't a part of.
They had run into each other once, it was surprising that it hadn't been sooner. It was a month after their first album was released - she remembers it because she had been avoiding listening to it. She didn't need to hear it to know that it was good, she couldn't bear to hear his voice. Her mum and sister said that it was good. One night she opened it up on her laptop. She stared at the page - she avoided looking at his face on the album cover. Her mouse hovered over the first song. She closed her laptop with a sigh and went to bed.
When he played his first gig he remembers feeling miserable, he should've been happy. He had just always expected her to be there. That he would come off stage and she'd be telling him everything she liked and disliked about his performance. She wasn't there. Her friends were and Rob had invited her. He knew she wouldn't come and yet he still felt disappointed when they finished the show, joining everyone, and she was nowhere to be found. He figured that Rob was annoyed at him that night, that he blamed him for October not showing up. Elijah could tell that he was disappointed too. He knew that he was the one to blame - that it was his fault she wasn't there.
It was a very dangerous thing - writing songs about someone. Having to be reminded of her every time he sang them. Even the ones that weren't directly about her he found connections that didn't exist. Not that it surprised him. He could find parallels to her in most songs. Movies too. Most things reminded him of her.
It didn't exactly help that he had a permanent reminder of her tattooed on him but he still didn't regret that. He told her that he wouldn't, he was telling the truth. He knew that he'd always look back on that memory with endearment. It was in a spot where he didn't see it often but when he did, seeing it in the reflection of a mirror or a photo, he thought about the house with the view of the forest or the beach. He thought about being there with her. She said that he wouldn't be satisfied. He disagreed with that now. He would give everything up for her, nothing mattered more to him.
. . . except his friends, they were the most important thing in his life. He valued them the same amount as he did October. Even if he didn't speak to her, even if they never would, she'd always be important to him.
It had been a very slow process, lots of self-forgiveness, for him to not think back on that time with shame. To not hear her name and hate himself - he still did but he tried not to. He grew and he learned, realised what he had done wrong. He knows that there's nothing that he could do about it now except not do it again. His biggest regret was that he had figured it out too late, that he could've told her how he felt. That everything could've been perfect with them if he wasn't so afraid. He tried not to think about that too much - the thought of 'what if' was one that could easily ruin him.
