Time Will Tell | ✔

Chapter 6: Year II: The Hurting

time will tell

I was walking along the ocean shore for the past four hours until I decided to sit down and rest because my feet hurt. Although it was past midnight, the moon provided me with enough light and I grabbed a couple of sea shells next to me to admire their beauty. The sound of seagulls and the waves flooding the shore filled my ears with serenity around this time and I enjoyed every second of it.

I turned my head sideways to see how much I had walked since my foot prints were still visible on the wet sand but soon, the waves that kept rolling back and forth from the shore erased them; and like all those past months before, I wished that it would erase me too. I wished that the water would clung at my feet and pull me deep into the ocean, so deep that I wouldn't ever be able to get out again and drown in my misery.

The beach was the right place to reflect on my life — something I did nearly every single minute of the day — because I felt isolated from the rest of the world. It was just me and the ocean; just me and the waves crashing against the shore, the cliffs and my crossed legs in white foam spray every now and then. As always I closed my eyes to listen to the beautiful lullaby of the ocean and smiled to myself for a brief moment as the scent of the water filled my nostrils.   

The beach was also the perfect place to drown in my feelings, my emotions, my past, my mistakes, my pain and my thoughts. Just a year ago I was screaming and crying and shouting my lungs out at the ocean to help me, to save me, to rescue me, but now I was sitting here in silence with my bare feet touching the sand and my dark thoughts taking over me. This silence was suffocating me, torturing me, adding more pain to my open wound and I simply hated it.

Whenever I was sitting here at around midnight, I couldn't stop myself from reminiscing about the times Rose and I spent here — well, not exactly here but at the beach in our hometown. I couldn't stop myself from thinking about our first kiss, our first intimate moment, our first adventure. I kept rewinding and replaying those moments and memories in my brain over and over again until they turned into some kind of torture. I was hopelessly hoping to turn back time in order to re-live everything we had for one more time and make it right.

I remembered how my heart nearly dropped out of my chest once those big ruby lips connected with mine for the first time. My brain forgot how to function properly and  some of those dead butterflies in my stomach came back to life because of a simple kiss we shared. She revived me but in return, I killed her. While she gave me thousands of reasons to live, to smile and to love again, I gave her a million reasons to hurt herself, to hate her life and to turn her back towards love. Everything that happened was my fault and that was eating me alive day in, day out.

I stared at my wrist and caressed my thumb over the spot of the rose tattoo I had gotten recently. At first I planned to get her name tattooed on my achilles heel since she was my weakness, someone who made me feel vulnerable in every way and every state, but I changed my mind right before the tattoo artist had the chance to pierce through my skin. Why? Because I was the reason she had those permanent scars on her wrists and I wanted to be reminded by that whenever I stared at my own wrist.

I wanted to be reminded by the damage I had caused. I wanted to be reminded of my stupidity, my past that was still part of my present and future, but most importantly: I wanted to be reminded by a person who I loved so deeply and who truly loved me back even though I didn't deserve it. I wanted to be reminded by the fact that I chose a pathetic, miserable and lonely life instead of a life filled with joy, love and happiness. I knew that I chose the wrong path but I wasn't surprised because my life was full of wrong choices and wrong people.

My attention was drawn to my phone once it started to vibrate in my jean pocket and I rolled my eyes the second I read the caller ID - Baldwin. "What?" I picked up the phone rather annoyed although he must be used to my attitude already. I didn't like to admit it, but I actually liked Baldwin a lot. He was a shy guy with a very low self-esteem because he was bullied throughout his entire life and never received the love he deserved. Yet he still tried to enjoy his life as long as it lasted and that was powerful to me.