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I was sobbing uncontrollably with my head buried deep into his chest. Even he, my martyr, my saviour couldn't stop it. He couldn't take this harrowing pain lodged so far inside of me away. A mourning, filling up every part of me by the minute. It wasn't going to go away. I grip him closer, whilst burying my head deeper into his chest. What should have been my comfort. Please. Just make it go away, make it stop, just let it stop. Make her come back.
There is nothing he can do for me, I'm a lost cause. Too troubled to ever truly be free.
She's never coming back. Never.
I lift my head to look at him, into his beautiful eyes. The eyes that could once take all the pain I had ever felt away, they no longer could. I turned away. I can't look at him. It just makes the feeling inside of me that much worse, harder to control, not that it is being controlled, I can't stop. As much as I love him it's just as much his fault she's gone, dead as it is mine. Why did I tell her? Let her get involved?
I sat up, and started hitting myself, hard. Punching, scraping, tearing myself apart. I deserve it. He tried to stop me, calm me down. I turn on him. Without even looking I punch his chest. I can't stop, it's somehow releasing the pain. He doesn't try to stop me. I hit him harder. I just need a reaction from him. I need him to scream at me, tell me to stop, any emotion. I let out a cry, piercingly loud and with that he cradled me in his arms, trying to comfort me just like a baby. Bring her back to me. Mum.