My Record Store Romance

When Everything Hurts

Alright, I know- I lied. MINI CHAPTER UPLOAD, even though I said I was going to wait until after finals to write anything. It's basically almost three in the morning, and I thought I owed it to everyone to at least upload something, because I didn't want you guys to have to wait another whole week for anything. So, this was my start for this chapter, and I'll be uploading more next week.

If you didn't get a chance to see the MRSR book trailer, make sure to do so! The link to the video is in my bio on my profile, and I'll also attach it to the media section on this. Make sure you let me know what you think!

Anyway, without further ado, here's the next chapter of MRSR.

Chapter 29: When Everything Hurts

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There are times in life when everything hurts.

When your already brittle bones start to creak, aching, teetering on the edge between crumbled and collapsed, although you haven't gotten out of bed. When your throat burns like an everlasting fire and your breathing is ragged because your lungs still sting from choking back tears the night before. When your head is pulsing, mind racing, and your thoughts are sloshing around so violently on the inside but never finding a way to spill from your lips. When your entire world is spinning, and you can't make it stop, and you're as hollow as your heart seems.

I had felt that way when my dad left all those years ago, I had felt that way when Drew found me in the rain.

And I felt like that now. I was frozen, bewildered, watching the empty boy in front of me as he came back to life. Or at least, back to reality. But he had never really been good at finding himself, anyway.

I was feeling nothing and everything at once. The words that I had just said aloud were bouncing off the walls, echoing harshly around the room and clashing against the record that still sang in the background, the water that pattered against the windows. My ears were ringing with a hushed I love you I love you I love you.

Every word, every syllable, every breath in what I had said rang with truth. I had meant it with entirety. I loved Drew- but at the moment, all I could see was the pale, scared boy, who now had blood stains underneath his fingernails and small half-moon imprints along the width of his arms.

And it terrified me. The fact that he could get like this, drift away and lose himself to his subconscious so easily, triggered by the memories of his past. That he could hurt himself without even knowing that he was. It terrified me that when I looked into his eyes, all I was able to see was complete and utter darkness, and it wasn't until then that I realized his mind must be a horrible place to live in. 

There was just so much fear and confusion and pain, and all I could think about was how things could have been different if I had known Drew a little earlier, before his life turned so numb. If maybe I had been there to hold him through the nightmares, if I had been there to help him get better, if I had been there to tell him I loved him and how much he really meant. I wondered if anyone had ever made him feel as special as he truly was, if anyone had ever noticed him on the inside, and if anyone had ever told him that it was okay to be that way- it was okay to be broken and not try to pretend like he wasn't. 

So when he looked over at me from where he was sitting on the floor, shattered in the pieces of himself, and whispered the word, "What?" from his dry, cracked, trembling lips, I repeated myself.

"I love you, Drew." And it was from then on that nothing would ever feel the same.

Because it was also then that his whole body begin to shake and he cried out, "No- you can't, Hailey. You can't." And in slow motion, with his red fingertips, he reached for the hem of his shirt.

I didn't understand what he was doing until he grabbed hold of the soft material and, leaving behind faint bloody blotches, started tugging it upwards over his head. He couldn't look me in the eyes. When he was done, and he had tossed his shirt to the floor, I finally realized what he was trying to show me.

His scars. From the fire on that night when it snowed. 

"Because this is who I am, Hailey, this is what I am. This is the person I've become. And I don't deserve any of this. And I definitely don't deserve you." His voice was so sad when he said this that I was breathless.

The space that had lingered between us just seconds before was now being enclosed upon as I moved closer to him, and his eyelids fluttered shut. He was anticipating my next move, reading my thoughts, but he still couldn't bear to look at me. At least not yet, not now, when he had revealed such an important part of himself and felt nothing but shame.

I, on the other hand, couldn't look away- gazing not only at his scars but him as a whole. For the first time, I felt as if I really saw Drew. I understood him; maybe not what he had gone through, but where he was coming from and why he was the way that he was.

When I'm only a few inches away, I lift my arm, outstretching my fingers, and brush them ever-so-gently across the rippled scar that rests along the top of Drew's chest. It's old and worn, a faded pink, but still large and bumpy. He's expecting this, but gasps when my fingers meet his skin anyway, instinctively flinching before reminding himself that it was me and only me- someone he was able to be vunerable around. When I finally leave behind the first scar, my fingers fall to the jagged lines of the second one on the right side of his torso. I trace it with my fingers, slowly, remembering the grooves and textures of his skin. I have to hold back tears as I begin to imagine the pain he must have endured during the fire, and I'm glad that his eyes are closed so that I have enough time to pull myself together when I make it to the third and final scar. This one, though, is on the underneath of his wrist, and I remember him telling me that this was the burn that awoke him from sleep that night, the first injury, and for a second, I'm grateful for this scar. Because if he hadn't woke up in time, the flames may have consumed both him and his sister, and I wouldn't have been here, right now, with him.

So, I don't think. Instead, I close my eyes too, intertwine his rough fingers with mine, and bring his wrist with the scar to my lips. I place a small kiss there, imagining that, by doing so, I was healing him. That his scar was disappearing, and so was his pain. But when I finally open my eyes again, I realize that Drew has too. And now, he is looking right at me.

"But, don't you see Drew? Don't you get it?" I tell him, my voice soft and quiet as I feel his breath on my cheeks when he exhales, "Your scars are apart of you. They show that you've survived, that your heart is still beating, that you're here and alive. That, in itself, is beautiful. You are such a beautiful person, Drew."

He knew that when I said that, I wasn't talking about the way he looked. I was talking about the inside of him. And soon, his eyes were laced with red again.

"I love you too," he sobbed, tightening the grip of our hands, "I love you so much."

Then, he didn't hesitate any longer.

He kissed me, right there on that floor in that record store, and it was more than anything I ever thought it could be.

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So that's it! Make sure to vote, comment, vote, vote, comment, or let me know what you think! And watch the MRSR book trailer if you haven't.

See you next week!

-Elizabeth