"I don't remember falling in love with you. I just remember holding your hand realizing how much it was going to hurt when I would have to let it go."
Tired, oh so tired. My eyes keep closing, but I don't want to fall asleep. I can't. I don't want to see those nightmares. Why can't I have nice dreams? Then again perhaps I don't deserve them. Perhaps the nightmares are the permanent reminder I'm supposed to have for everything I have done, for the blood on my hands that I can't wash off no matter how hard I try.
I could hear someone coming closer, "Jesus, Adriana," he whispered softly as he reached me.
"It's Jesus christ," I half smiled, while attempting to see him clearly.
"Why?" he ignored my lame joke, "Why are you doing this to yourself?" he kept whispering as he sat down next to me.
"I'm not doing anything," my tiredness making my voice smaller than usual.
His fingers brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear before he spoke again, "I don't like seeing you like that."
"Then stop looking," I turned my eyes away from him.
He chuckled at that, "If it was that easy, don't you think I would have stopped by now?" his voice turned serious again, "You clearly don't see what I see."
"A monster," I whispered to myself, not expecting him to hear which he did anyway.
"You're not a monster, please stop that!" he raised his voice slightly, but returned it back to his normal as soon as he saw me close my eyes, "No, what I see is a young girl who deserves the happiness of the world, a girl who has so much pain that she does not deserve, a girl who makes me happier than anyone else, someone I would give absolutely anything for —"
"I'm tired," I mumbled to stop him from saying anything else.
I could hear him inhale loudly, before getting up from the ground. A moment later I found myself being lifted off the ground bridal style. I couldn't help but lean into him, too tired to fight him about carrying me. His heart was beating faster than usual.
I opened my eyes to be welcomed by a dark room, a soft snoring coming from next to me, and a digital clock displaying 3:21am brightly on the other side. My whole body felt exhausted, however my mind felt as if it had just had four cups of coffee.
3:22am: I hate not being able to sleep. I'm begging for my mind to stop and for the exhaustion to take over. Though not sleeping has been giving me time to think lately, more than I've thought for a while, maybe even for years. I've been thinking of how life would have turned out if things hadn't gone the way they did. I keep picturing a free girl, laughing with her friends, visiting coffee shops and art museums. I picture someone whose face lights up like sunshine when they do something they love. Someone free; she is free.
3:45am: I then usually think about what if I did all that. What if I just left and never looked back. Would I feel free? What would life be like if I just dropped everything and flew home. Did I even have a home to go to? Was there even someone out there waiting and wanting me? The fact that the person who made every place feel like home was sleeping peacefully next to me right now was annoying me. Because lately it felt like he had locked the door and thrown the key into the pacific ocean, making me dive after it; with no chance of ever finding it again.
4:02am: I wonder if he would miss me if I left? Would he even notice? Or would he just be relieved to have me out of his life? I sometimes think about us 5 years from now, not having spoken a word during that time. Both of us moved on with our lives, all content and better versions of ourselves. The things that happened to us just a part of our past. And after all this time finally pumping into one another and having a conversation. Him telling me he has found the love of his life, the life he has created without me in it. And maybe I could tell him honestly that I have moved on as well; could look at him as just an old acquaintance and not seeing a boy I once called my best friend when my heart wanted him to possibly be more.
I can feel Bucky shifting slightly next to me, can feel his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling my body against his. I sigh louder than I intend to, knowing he has woken up and found me not sleeping once again.
"I'm still mad at you," I can feel him whisper against my neck which sends shivers down my spine.
4:30am: These thoughts are what keep me up and I should feel happy thinking them, but I can see sun rising and I am so scared of letting go.