XXIX ~ Perspective

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{Things We Lost In The Fire (Cover) - Janet Devlin}

...When the spark turned into a flame, and the flame grew much higher, and my hope, faith and every last desire, it's just something that we lost in the fire...

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        It's funny how far we can stretch ourselves to fit the mould that others put us in. Our muscles become elastic, and we bend and stretch and flex until we are contorted into versions of ourselves we no longer resemble. Over time, these structures we have become stuck in begin to ache, and we begin to break down and fall at any obstacle when the strain becomes too much.

       I was finding that the worst kind of pain was felt in vain. When you reserve a space in someone's life, and they leave it empty, for reasons that you cannot fathom nor empathise with.

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July 5th

        In the midst of my darkened room in the cabin, a knock came upon my door, tapping the wood gently. My body lay stagnant in bedsheets and day-old pyjamas. At the same time, my hair resembled a bird's nest as I had tossed and turned on the paper-thin pillow until I realised that sleep would only make waking even worse, when in the moments before my conscious mind would kick in, I would still feel excited about seeing Elliot.

       I had run home in floods of tears the night before as the fireworks boomed over my head whilst everyone else's eyes were averted from my emotional state. I slammed the screen door of the cabin, crying and breaking down into sobs before I locked myself in my room, tearing off the clothing I had on like the fabric would stain me and permanently remind me of Elliot, the smell of his cologne present on the soft cloth. Bodhi tried to comfort me, but I was untethering, unable to suppress the emotion any longer. No longer able to swallow it and pretend that it just wasn't there. A raging pit of anger buried deep inside of me, and I knew that the crevice that had been driven between us was not one of Elliot's own creation. Still, I cried. Bodhi and Cady and even Mom let me cry, standing in the doorway while Bodhi wrapped his arms around me and cuddled me tightly. More importantly, I let myself cry.

    "Who is it?" My voice was groggy and sore from crying as I rubbed my eyes and sat up.

     The door opened, and Bodhi slipped in, opening the curtains to let the sunlight stream through the window and bathe me in the relentless heat that had unceasingly blighted the earth.

    "It's just me." He smirked, sitting on the corner of the bed, as I cuddled my pillow on my lap.

    "I can see that now. Thank you for blinding me." I tried not to squint too much, but the bright morning sun was almost unbearable.

      As I began opening my eyes again, I looked around the room, where my eyes landed on my calendar I had brought, crossing off dates since I arrived. There, on the date of July 5th was the date of the dance competition.

    "How are you today?" Bodhi was gentle, yet I couldn't help but sigh and try to bite back against the tears this morning. I thought I had cried myself out, but obviously not.

    "I've been better," I said, and Bodhi hauled himself to his feet, grabbing my wrists and taking me with him. "What are you doing?" I asked, fighting back half-heartedly.

    "You're coming with me." He ordered.

    "Where?"

    "To go look for your smile. You've lost it." He joked, but I knew he was worried for me. I could see it in the bags under his eyes.

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