once, still & forever | a Matty Healy story

My Heart - Chapter 68

I couldn't settle down as I lay restless in the middle of my bed, trying with my everything to lull myself to sleep, but all I could think about was Matty.

My mind was replaying over and over again the way that he left, making me toss and turn, the frustration building up inside of me, and I didn't know what to do with myself other than to sit up and grab my laptop.

I wanted to write about a memory that had stuck with me, something I always think about and thought was relevant to how I was feeling at this moment in time, making me type it all out in a blog post.

After an while, I read through my writing, finally happy enough to publish it on my diary blog, and I could feel my heart pound against my chest at the thought of everyone reading it, especially Matty.

I saw my notifications build up as I darted my eyes over my writing once more.

"When we were young, I could tell that my heart was yours before I had accepted it, before I even knew it myself.

In high school, my health teacher told me that my heart was roughly the size of my fist. I don't remember what the teacher had told me next, as I was too busy curling my fingers into my palm, and still to this day it angers me at the thought.

I was sure that whatever I felt, what furious emotions I had encountered for you, had to have been made by something larger than my frail hands, something more powerful than my fourteen year old fist.

The next day, I closed my eyes and punched the desk as hard as I could, the skin on my knuckles tore open, blood surfaced and poured down my arm, and I walked with teary eyes to the principals office.

When he asked why I did it, I could only say that I was testing my heart, testing the feelings that I had for someone, the feelings I had for you.

I still ball my hand into a fist, just as I am doing now, staring down at it, knowing that it's the size of my heart. The size of my heart that is all yours.

I do this every day, and sometimes I'll punch something, like my wall, or the table, or the mirror that holds my reflection.

My fist has gotten a little bigger since I was fourteen, but it still breaks and bleeds just the same, and it's still all for you."

I couldn't ignore the craving need that I had to talk to him as I sat up even further with a sigh, closing over my laptop and crawling out of bed to slowly make my way downstairs, in the aid of a cup of tea, hoping that it would help calm me so that I could finally sleep.

Just as I stood up on my tiptoes to reach a mug from my kitchen cupboard, the front door threw open, startling me as hurried feet stomped in.

Before I could react, I could hear Danielle's voice shouting my name, and I then remembered that I had left the door open in the hope that Matty would have finally came back.

"Sophia?" she echoed through the hall, and I could hear the worry that was in her voice, instantly scaring me as I looked up to the clock in the kitchen to see that it was nearly two in the morning.

"I'm in the kitchen!" I spoke loudly, wanting to know what the hell was going on as I placed the cup back on the counter, then turning around in time to see her rushing through the door frame.

"Are you alright?" she asked panicked, "Is everything okay?" her eyes darting over me as I nodded quickly, unsure of what was going on.

"I'm fine, are you alright?" I spoke warily, looking at her as she continued to stare at me with wide eyes, eyes that were still searching me, almost as if she was looking for something.