when you're dreaming with a broken heart
She can feel that this is a mistake. A mistake because she isn’t strong enough to withstand him, is not strong enough to step away from him when he fully closes the space between them. He touches her, and if it were not for his wings across her back to anchor her to reality she would be convinced she was dreaming. But even then, she cannot remember the last time she dreamt of him — his presence alone is enough to remind her she is awake. She had clung to him for so long, to some ridiculous, foolish hope that he would change his mind and come back. For years all she had of him was dreams and watery memories, until eventually they faded. Until she died, and finally in death the fragmented pieces of her heart learned to entirely let go of him.
His words, and his touch against her cheek, breaks something inside of her.
“Don’t,” she says, and though it is meant to be a command, the word is spoken around a throbbing ache in her throat and it comes out choked by the tears that suddenly fill her eyes. She shifts away from him, trembling with the effort it takes to swallow the emotion and heartache that threatens to unravel her. The last thing she wanted was to fall apart in front of him, but with her heart hammering in her chest she isn’t sure she has that kind of control anymore. Tears streak her face before she can regain composure, and she tilts her face away from him as she sucks in sharp, unsteady breaths.
She looks back at him, finally, and suddenly she feels like the same weak girl that was so easily overpowered by her father, and the same stupid, foolish girl that ever thought anyone could love someone so entirely damaged.
She is quiet for a long moment after what he says, and though her eyes are now empty of tears her face remains damp, and she does not look nearly as stoic as she sounds when she says dimly, “I’m sure she still loves you. Everything always works out the way it’s supposed to.” She looks away from him again, her voice nearly a whisper when she adds, “It's just a storm, and storms don't last forever.” A lie, but it's a lie she has told herself a hundred times. Her storm has lasted several lifetimes now, and she has little hope for this one
His words, and his touch against her cheek, breaks something inside of her.
“Don’t,” she says, and though it is meant to be a command, the word is spoken around a throbbing ache in her throat and it comes out choked by the tears that suddenly fill her eyes. She shifts away from him, trembling with the effort it takes to swallow the emotion and heartache that threatens to unravel her. The last thing she wanted was to fall apart in front of him, but with her heart hammering in her chest she isn’t sure she has that kind of control anymore. Tears streak her face before she can regain composure, and she tilts her face away from him as she sucks in sharp, unsteady breaths.
She looks back at him, finally, and suddenly she feels like the same weak girl that was so easily overpowered by her father, and the same stupid, foolish girl that ever thought anyone could love someone so entirely damaged.
She is quiet for a long moment after what he says, and though her eyes are now empty of tears her face remains damp, and she does not look nearly as stoic as she sounds when she says dimly, “I’m sure she still loves you. Everything always works out the way it’s supposed to.” She looks away from him again, her voice nearly a whisper when she adds, “It's just a storm, and storms don't last forever.” A lie, but it's a lie she has told herself a hundred times. Her storm has lasted several lifetimes now, and she has little hope for this one
the waking up is the hardest part
ANONYA
