"Why won't you tell me what's wrong? Why don't you ever tell me?" Jack shouted at you. He had found you crying by yourself on the couch for the 5th time this past week and once again, had received no answer or explanation. Thoughts plagued and toyed with his mind. Was it his fault? Was he doing something wrong? To see you curled up on that couch, sobbing to the point of coughing fits, it felt like his heart was being twisted inside his chest. He felt so useless.
"What does it matter? You'll never be able to help me anyways!" you screamed back, tears drenching the pillow hugged to your chest. How could anything change you anymore? You had chained your garden up for good and threw the key into a depth-less ocean, never to be found again. It was an irreparable mistake, but nothing could be changed. You would, now and forever, never be able to truly share yourself with another person. You had lost trust and faith in people, in yourself. You believed that nothing you did would ever be good enough for Jack, for anyone. You felt horrible and undeserving of his emotions. Someone as disgusting as you, someone as tainted and twisted and unforgiving as you, how stupid had you been to truly believe that you could love again?
Jack breathed deeply and raked his hair, fingers digging tensely into his scalp. It broke him so much to see you like this. When you had decided to be with him despite his vile and repulsive past, Jack made a promise to himself to stay by your side and protect you forever. You were his light in times of darkness, the only person whose smile could wake him from an eternal sleep. He needed you so much more than you would ever know, so why couldn't you rely on him? "Look , I don't understand. We've been in this damn relationship for months now. I..." Jack inhaled sharply, stressed fists clenching. "I love you. And I hate seeing you like this. I've trusted you with everything about my past, and I want to see you get better. If you love me, why can't you trust me?"
Your teeth grit hard against each other. Trust. Love. These were things that you always believed were messed up in you. You were able to love, sort of. You were able to trust, sort of. But you'd never be able to give yourself away to someone completely, not again.
Burning words left your tongue. "Maybe I never loved you," you responded hatefully. It was true after all. Someone as broken as yourself wasn't capable of something as frilly and pink and happy as love.
Ah. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but what was left to say? Nothing. He turned away and walked out of your apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.
New tears rose to your eyes. You had muttered something so unforgivable, so unforgettable. There was no way Jack would ever want you back. But you said those words on purpose. Jack didn't deserve someone like you, someone who was as broken and torn as a rag doll. He was much better off with someone else, right? Someone who could hold his hand and show him their meadow of happiness, rather than your tiny, little patch of daisies.
So then why were you crying? Why did your chest feel like it was being squeezed together? Why was your throat constricting? Why was it so hard to breathe? Memories of the time you and Jack spent together flashed through your mind.
"You should have told me you were sick, you brat," Jack said as he blew on a soup spoon and brought the utensil to your blush pink lips.
"I'm...sorry," you replied hesitantly, sure that Jack was bound to hate you for not telling him. You could barely look him in the eye, and your lips only tightened.
Jack sighed and placed the soup bowl down. You turned to face him curiously but suddenly felt rough, warm lips press against yours. In surprise, you opened your mouth just as a steaming hot spoon replaced his lips. Salty, chicken soup was mercilessly dumped down your throat.
