Part II: III

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There is something about seeing the moon in the sky even after the sun comes up that makes me sad

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There is something about seeing the moon in the sky even after the sun comes up that makes me sad. Makes me think the sun still isn't enough to wash away the night. Like there has always been a reminder of the darkness left in the sky, no matter how bright the sun may be. 

Sometimes I feel like that. The moon on a summer day. The last remaining part of the darkness will never quite wash away.The part that still sits in the sky, waiting for the dark to come again. In my world, the sun never quite rises above the trees. The moon, dark side and all, reigns supreme day and night. No matter how close it may get to being overtaken by sweet sunlight, it'll never quite get there. 

Maybe that's why the moon makes me so sad. Because it reminds me of the night. And the moon, and the sun, and everything I'll never quite be. I feel like I've spent so much time trying to outrun things like the moon and the sun. I never fit in with either one. There was no sunshine. I had no moonlight.

I was what I have always known I am; nothing. And that nothing chases after me like a hungry wolf. I close my eyes and try to imagine it isn't there sometimes. I try to imagine that I am not who I think that I am. That I am nothing. And unsurprisingly, it never works. Not even for a second. I spent most of the drive to Vermont with my eyes closed. I wasn't sleeping. Just imagining. Imagining myself as someone else, my life as something else. It wasn't that I wished I wasn't who I am. I just wished it wasn't so hard sometimes.

I caught Nolan's eye in the rear view mirror. He'd been staring at me on and off for the last two hours. I knew he was worried about me after last night. Everyone was. They'd treated me like glass since the second I came back to the table. They all thought I was breaking, but the truth is I broke a long time ago. It's just getting harder to hide. I hate the way Nolan looks at me. I needed his pity, but I didn't want it. I didn't want him to care about me, or worry about me. I needed it, but I didn't want it. I snap my gaze away from his. 

I'm getting tired of looking into ocean blue eyes and seeing nothing but waves of sadness.

He felt bad for me. And I could tell by the similar look Finley had been wearing since the night before, he did too. And for that reason, I couldn't help but feel a spark of gratitude that he was still asleep for the time being. I could vaguely see his slumped form out of the corner of my eye. He, like most normal people, had been only half awake when he dragged himself out of bed and into the car at 6AM this morning. The sun had just barely risen above the trees that lined the highway. I hadn't slept at all. Not this morning, and not last night. It felt like weeks since I had gotten any real sleep. Most nights, it was just hours of me staring at the ceiling thinking myself into oblivion. Last night, I didn't even try. There are times when I have no choice but to accept defeat before the fight begins. It often feels like that or madness.

My eyes flicked to Logan when I saw his sleeping form shift in the front seat. He'd slept at the house last night. He said it was because we had to leave so early, but I had a hunch it had more to do with him not wanting to leave me alone. He quite literally hadn't left my side since last night. He even insisted on sleeping on my bedroom floor, even after I pointed out that he still had a bedroom just across the hall from mine that had remained untouched since he moved out. 

The World That Was Mine (Part I & II)Nơi câu chuyện tồn tại. Hãy khám phá bây giờ