Almost Drowning in Her Sea

After he left, she ran to the stacks. Clutching her chest, trying to calm her breathing, bumping into books and leaning, crouching, gasping against a column in the middle of the library. Between breaths that shook her frame she imagined she heard him call her name. Again. And again. And eventually...she didn't hear it anymore. She fled, the only time she ever hated a library, because the memories it held were too much. The tepid air was soft when she got outside, but her skin was clammy and sick and she didn't notice the comfort it brought as her vision blurred going down the stairs.

She didn't remember the drive home, but she remembers the song.

please don't keep me [please don't leave me]

She forced herself from the car, tired and hating that she would go inside, shut the door, and lose herself to the pressure building in her chest. She turned up music, turned on water, and shed clothing like so many layers of herself she could not part from. And she gave in.

Steam warmed the cold mirror but the tears on her face were still hotter than the streams pelting her shaking skin. Sinking down into the shallow tub, she clutched her knees to her chest and tried to stop the hole that was tearing her apart.

Soft, sharp knocks right outside her darkened world, protected by dolphins trapped in perpetual smiles; she had no time to stand, to smile, to pretend everything was ok. A glow from the lamp filtered to her eyes as the curtain moved away and he stood in her favorite faded blue shorts, a teal so pale it seemed sunbleached, and he took in her wracking shoulders and swollen face. She didn't trust herself  to read his eyes but he climbed in the shower without pause and pulled her into his chest and as she realized what he was doing, she fell into herself all over again.

Time passed in sprays of water, smoothing hair, and counted heartbeats. She found she could clench him with all she had, trapped at times in that uncontainable ache, a spiral of kicking heels and half screams, and that he would only pull her deeper into his chest. He stayed for days or hours, balanced over her, only speaking when she said he didn't need to stay. I want to make sure you're ok. She was lost against him, in the familiar taste of his skin and her tears, in the stinging realizations that she knew would come but tried to hide from.

Eventually, her breathing slowed and, though she knew she was reaching that point beyond hysteria, where silent tears flood endlessly, she quieted. He helped lift her and steadied her when she swayed, turning the water and wrapping her in a towel while he stood, soaking through her bath mats. Drying her ever.so.slowly. Carefully. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stood with her, wrapped in his arms, and she realized that his ever present touch was keeping her from going numb, making her feel everything she had for him, while he stood there, concerned and unaware.

How could your heart be broken by someone who never loved you in the first place?