11
"My heart was no longer my heart when Michael stole it. It burned, and it rippled and tore, just like my body, into the shreds I could never get back again. Pieces that would always remain a part of me, pieces that were now a part of him."
Calum
There was something taped to the bedside table. Unpigmented folds with crinkles at the end of the paper, tied down with twine in an unsurpassable bow, meticulous handwriting covering twenty lines of the sheet — a note. My fingers trembled against the folio, my mind taking me back to the moss on the ground of the forest, the all-inclusive stems of the dandelions, the grandeur I felt when seeing the sun fluoresce over skin, over coiffure, over slabs of rose and cyan. My eyes scanned over the page, word for word, my body breathing in the blots which were deepening my surroundings and killing me on the inside.
"C,
I know your name is Calum, but I don't like calling you that. Not after I've been addressing you improperly for the past three years and you never said or did anything about it. . not like it matters. That's not the point, really. I went somewhere to clear my head because I'm really pissed at you. You're ignorant and rude and I've only tried being kind and attempting to be your friend but I never get anywhere with it or you. I'm obviously not as important to you as I thought I was, so yeah. After we leave Santa Cruz, I'll stop talking to you, cause that's what you want right? For me to leave you alone? I don't even know.
But I do know you're having a tough time right now, and so am I. And you've pushed me away so many times to the point where I just don't care anymore. You either want me in your life or you don't. Make up your mind before the end of this trip. See you later, if you even want to see me, that is.
xx Michael."
The note precipitated across the room, my heart thrashing in my chest each second I wasted speculating over nonsensical things. I ran out of the hotel, my hair aviating as the wind pressed its weight against me. I didn't stop until I had sight of what really, truly mattered.
I found Michael sitting at the shore. Legs flopping under piles of sand, coiffure moving along with the birth of the air, his hands mushing into pebbles, rocks, seashells full of variation in shapes and colors. His cheeks were damp, reddened and the color of cherry blossoms, though I couldn't see through him.
"I felt like he was pulling me under the waves with him. The water rushed up to his feet and he seemed like he wanted to jump in and never come back. To become sky blue, ocean blue, live and move like the creatures under the sea, until he lost touch with his mind and his body and his breath. I wanted to keep him alive for once."
I sat by his side, my fingers once again shaking as I tuned in the sound of the waves splashing into my life — something new, something I wasn't used to. I looked at Michael, his cheeks still damp and stained from the teardrops that fell from his prepossessing face. "I'm sorry for not telling you who I really am. Sometimes I just lose control of myself. Not really something you'd understand."
His eyes pierced into me, almost a duller shade of green than they were before. He was washing himself into the shore without even realizing it. "We all lose control over ourselves, Calum. It just takes time to realize that." He was the planets in the universe, the fish in the sea, the sapphire gem, and for some reason, I was pulling myself away further and further. "I still don't really get why you did what you did."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, and probably never will know about me. It's best to just know me as Cameron, and not as. . me. I don't want to be me."
He stood up and dusted the sand off of his legs, and gave me that look again. I knew I made a mistake, something I was used to doing on a daily basis. "You know, Calum, it's better to be who you are than to be somebody you're not. Learn from that."
I knew I had to, but I couldn't. I wasn't really sure if I'd ever really be able to, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to try.
-
/
Thoughts?
It's been a while.