The Void Between Hearts ~~ongoing~~

47. Boma

The more I remind myself, the more the pain seems to bite at me, extending its grip to my head. I pull my hands away from the fascinator, clutching at my head and asking it to, "just stop!"

If that was how it worked, I wouldn't be here, would I?

The human brain is so good at magnifying memories in the way that it evokes strong emotions. The type that threatens to sweep away the very thought of stability, but, stability is something I've never known so what does this emotion now sweep away? The thought that I was going to be okay, the fake words I whispered to myself?

'Okay' is not a state of being, it is not even a state of optimism, it just doesn't exist, a façade, the type that blindly binds you from realities.

Everything is not going to be okay, nothing will. Mom won't be okay by getting married, Ivan won't be okay by being sweet and kind or rich, Chinny is obviously not okay, and me—how is death okay—the very thing our existence is built for yet, instructed to fight against?

'Okay' is a big fat lie. I've lived that lie for too long and this pain is unforgiving in the way it reminds me.

"STOP!"

I jitter. His hand grabs my back. I don't need to open my eyes to know who it is.

"STOP!" I yell at him. "JUST STOP! THIS IS STUPID!"

He doesn't move his grip. I see his eyes and they're a deep brown—like burnt sugar—with little angry red veins streaking the white corner, doing a great job of telling me how much of a lie I am living—how can he be angry about my dying when he has a great life waiting for him?

"LET ME GO! THIS IS STUPID!"

"WHAT EXACTLY?" his brows furrow so deep, I'm forced to catch my breath.

"THIS—"

"That you keep hurting yourself intentionally? Is that it? Because it is damn. right. stupid."

I struggle out of his hands as if I'm not already all weak and physically drained. He seems well aware of this fact, obviously, in the way he demonstrates his stronghold.

"Don't pep talk me."

"Well you need it. What's with you and pain?" he asks.

I scoff, you have to be kidding me.

"I'M FEELING IT NOW! IT'S ALL I'VE EVER FELT AND NO! YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND. " I struggle a little more. He doesn't budge.

"RIGHT! I WON'T!"

I blink steadily at him. He rolls his eyes like I'm making him do something he swore to never do. "Boma, I can't understand how you understand this pain of yours. Because you invent it so well it seems like you're the only one suffering, the only one who has to live it."

"When was the last time you had to be dying, Ivan, literally?"

"Never," he replies defiantly.

"Then how can you stand there and pretend to understand what I'm going through?"

"I'm not pretending to understand, I can never do that okay, I'm trying to let you live."

"Oh. Oh, the charity case?"

"Would you just shut up?" he wipes my eyes with his sleeve. "Just shut up for once, and allow yourself to live. You deserve it, you deserve to be loved, and cared for, when it's time to go"—his voice thickens like he's telling himself that it's okay; it's not, but I'm too drained to prove that point—"You can't stop the world from missing you. You can't. You can't make your mom not grief, you can't make me want to move on, you can't! So quit trying to rob yourself and the people that only want to love you of the time we should be cherishing"—his eye flickers off the one drop of tear clinging onto his lashes—"You want to know the truth?"

I find myself silent enough to hear how my heart beats angrily against his restraint, again, feeling small and powerless over my own life. He's made it clear that he isn't letting go, so I remain silent.

"The truth is that, you can't stop us from loving you. By us, I'm emphasising me. And that does not matter if you drop dead today, or next year, you can't stop me. You are completely defenseless over how this turns out and I'm not joking. That's enough. "

The stretch of silence becomes too long, my knees begin to buck and as much as I don't want it to, his stronghold becomes a much needed support.

"You've worn yourself out and I won't want your Mom to find you like this, today is not about you. So, you'll follow me to the car. We'll stay there until you feel better. Then, we can move on. But I don't want you to say another word of that bullshit you have stored up in your head."

I can feel my pulse slow down.

"Breathe," he says.

I listen. It's not as deep as my lungs crave but it's deep enough to initiate another deeper breath.

The pain in my head maliciously spreads to my chest.

It's bullshit to allow it to conjure bullshit thoughts in my head, so I ignore it; I ignore everything.

○○○○○
Thank you, this book just recently hit 4k reads and it's because of you, I couldn't thank you better. I wanted to do something special: I thought of giving you guys the opportunity to pick how soon I update the next chapter (drop a comment) aside that, I'm out of ideas so, maybe you could suggest something, or just accept my heartfelt thanks. Till the next update, keep Boma, Chinny and Ivan in your heart and maybe, reflect on lost friendships.
◇Tamunosakiogaree◇