A broken heart...

Excerpts from Forgotten...

“Stay,” he murmurs without sparing me a glance. It was presumable that he was wasted to the brim. His knees buckle, staggering, as he eases himself against the wooden railing of the roof, taking another swig from the half-emptied bottle, chuckling bitterly. Cursing my luck silently, I avert my gaze back to the resplendent view that I had been savoring mere moments ago. An endless canvas, the sky stretches out, never really dark even at night. The tones of violet and cerulean melt matchlessly among geodes of glimmering specks, tracing the edges of the clouds, bequeathing pearly grey mist and white foamy fingers that caress my skin with swirling wintry kisses, etched like snow. It was this that made me forget the past, everything else that mattered, rendering my mind voidless and it wasn’t all fair.

“I will not cry today; I will not break,” my lips form the words soundlessly as I affix my gaze back to the stars above in vain to subdue the pain clenching my heart.

“It will be easier for you to understand,” he says promptly, separating me from my thoughts before I could drown in their shallows.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know you, I don’t know what puts you to ease, I don’t know what books you like to read, I don’t know how you view the world, with their hues or their shades.” His voice is heavy with sleep.

“I know that you fell in love with a girl who deceived you, yet you haven’t stopped loving her.”

He runs his fingers through his dark windblown hair, tousling it further as he falls into another fit of hysterical snickers.

“Love,” he repeats, “I fell in love with a monster; love blinds us all doesn’t it? It turns us into foolish marionettes that can’t dance without strings.” He raises his trembling hands, staring into the depths of his palms, “I don’t know what she has made me into.”

It was true I had despised him for the longest time, yet the very core of my soul ached at the sight of him breaking. I clasp his hand, my fingers closing around his knuckles, mustering fortitude, perhaps for the both of us.

“Her love was a serrated thorn, making me bleed ever so slowly until it consumed me entirely. Every single day I went down to my knees as she magnified each flaw, each mistake. Isn’t that what creatures like us are made up of? Yet it didn’t matter, for I loved her anyway. It was such a bliss and such a curse to feel everything so deeply.” He faces me, the melding silver in his eyes darkening, a home to hopeless despair they hold.

“I can’t get a grip without cutting myself on misery, on its sharpened jagged telltales. I told her about all the things that could hurt me, and she did that just perfectly. Now my world is wrecked, and I don’t know how to suture it back.” His grip tightens, seething with pure cold dread, until I could feel the rapid thrum of pulse, hammering within his wrist.

“A broken heart heals, too, as time fades and tides crumble to dust, some pieces are lost and some may not fit back the same, yet you will forget these memories that rip open old wounds and undress sutured scars. As for your pain, it will numb, just like a dead carcass discarded in shallow pools of blood, impaled with dull arrows that feels agony no more. As time and tides coalesce to one, so will your broken heart.”

“And what would you know of broken hearts, I see it in your eyes, I can feel your lies, you have been lying all along, haven’t you?” he scoffs and gone was the broken boy I saw seconds ago replaced by something loathsome and menacing, a broken poisoned mask.

“Well, then, you haven’t known me at all... “