Heal Me
...feels like it's over...i'm tired and a mess...
"I don't know what you want from me," Aaron stated sadly, his hands outstretched toward her, palms up.
She turned around to face him; her eyes were burning and stinging with threatening tears. As soon as she moved her head, her hair flew about her face and got stuck to her wet cheeks. Hastily, she flipped it out of her way. "I just wanted you," she choked out, her voice hoarse from the emotional strain of it all. "That's all."
Aaron took a step toward her, wanting to pull her into his arms and make her forget; make it all better with just one touch. But that was impossible now. There was a thin line they were walking on...keeping themselves together, and yet apart.
It only took a second, one heartbeat, and they'd crossed that line; there was no turning back.
...you forgive me for my big mistake then keep throwing it back in my face...
It was three days after what would be called 'The Incident' when she found everything out. It had been like any other day, except there was a heavy gray cloud following him around wherever he went. A mess of guilt had settled in his stomach, making it hard for him to do anything. He wandered around aimlessly, going through the motions. When he trained, his times were way off and his coach berated him and told him to get some sleep. But sleep wouldn't come.
He couldn't concentrate. All he could think of was that one night, that one moment where he could have turned back, but hadn't. The moment when he ruined absolutely everything.
Even though he hated to admit it, he knew she'd never forgive him. She might try, but in the end it wouldn't make any difference.
She'd still want him gone.
...i love it when you fall asleep at night 'cause i can hear the bell that stops the fight...
His throat hurt; when he tried to speak, it came out as a croak and no amount of liquid did anything to help. His heart was being wildly against his chest, and he felt like it might explode. He almost wished it would so he wouldn't have to go through with this.
She was staring at him paitently, just waiting. If she knew what was coming, she didn't show it. She looked as she always did, calm and collected. God, he loved her. If only she would believe him when he said it. After these next few words, she'd never be able to trust anything he said.
Never was an awfully long time. The thought made Aaron want to sink down onto the bed and lose consciousness for a few hours, stalling the inevitable. But he couldn't do that to her. He'd waited long enough and she deserved to hear the truth.
"I need to tell you something."
It only took six little words to cause her world to come tumbling down around her.
Leaving only wretched emptiness.
...i know that when the darkness turns to light the fight'll take over...
The fight lasted several hours. Give or take a few hours, of course, because there were bathroom breaks and breathers and moments of silence so absolute that it made Aaron's skin crawl.
This was nothing compared to what she was feeling, and he knew that.
If he could have taken away her pain, he would have. In an instant, with no hesitation whatsoever. If he could rewind time, he would. It was all he could do to keep himself from crying.
Desperation overtook him when she headed for the door. She was sobbing, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. As she stuffed clothes in a duffle bag, her fingers trembled and her breath caught in her throat.
Aaron was frozen to the spot, unable to move. He couldn't speak, and he wanted to reach out to her, but she recoiled when he tried. Then she kept herself at a safe distance.
She fell asleep before she got out of the apartment. The fight had drained all her energy. She slept on the couch underneath a quilt her mother had made her years ago. Aaron sat in a chair for a while, watching her sleep fitfully; he couldn't make himself move, to leave her in peace. He had to be there.
If he didn't see her physically leave him, it wouldn't be real.
...can't stand living with you but don't wanna live without you...i'm missing loving you...
The morning after he'd confessed, she was stirring cream into her coffee in the kitchen, like it was just any other day. Except it wasn't. When he entered to get some orange juice, she turned her back to him and heaved a huge sigh. Most mornings when he found her just like this, she flashed him a bright smile and fixed him a cup of coffee. It was obvious those type of mornings would never exist again.
"I'm sorry." He didn't recognize the voice that came out of his mouth. It held a pleading, sad note he'd never associated with himself before.
"I know."
Her voice sounded dejected, reserved; he turned toward her, his glass of juice being clutched so hard he was surprised it didn't burst.
"I don't know what to do," she said, turning around and leaning against the counter. Her hands were trembling still, making the coffee cup spill dark liquid onto the clean floor and her clothes every so often.
"I don't know what to say to make this better."
She let out a hollow laugh. "You can't make this better, Aaron. You can't fix this."
"I want to try."
She looked away from him, letting her eyes drift toward the window at the bright sunlight. Last night he'd forgotten it could be sunny. Forgotten that in some other apartments, in other people's lives, there was laughter and happiness.
Not an emptiness so huge that it felt like you'd be swallowed whole if you didn't hold onto something.
...the truth is i'm lonely even though you're by my side...
"It's over, then? Is that what you want? Just to throw this away?" He was grasping at staws, he knew. He didn't have the right to decide, not after what he'd done to her.
Her mouth opened and closed, her eyes boring into his. "It's not what I want," she cried, her voice cracking slightly; it wasn't fully healed after the night's long fight.
"It's not what I want either," he replied, his voice low as if he was trying to keep himself level even when he just wanted to scream. "I never meant to hurt you."
She set her coffee cup down a little too hard and it shattered in the sink; she cursed horribly and reached for a sponge to mop up the stream of blood pouring from her finger. "But you did," she said, her voice so quiet he wasn't sure she'd even spoken.
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