break like waves Options

[nikkolajane]

She encouraged me to breathe. With gasps like a siren, I took in breaths too big to hold. I cried in that shower for hours with her standing outside the door, encouraging me to breathe. I stood behind the plastic curtains colored with whales and toy ships, using force with an adamant. I willed my ears to reach the distance beneath the cracks of floorboards and the bathroom door. Concentration, concentration. I tried to penetrate the solids and silence between our bodies. I could hear her now, cooing and humming soft things. I pictured her tracing the lines of crevices on the door, gazing at her fingers and even more crevices amongst assorted surfaces as they danced and she mumbled softer things. The romance enticed me within the anguish of the room. Twisting, squeaking, and rubbing. I stepped outside to meet her greeting arms.
“It’s going to be alright,” she whispered half believing, half hoping.
“Can we get out of here?” I asked, pulling away her cavern limbs.
Nod of her head, graze of the lips, and turn of her cheek. She allowed me a few minutes to dress, and we left the house unlocked and unguarded as our hearts.
“It’ll be alright.” She spoke as if time never intervened. “She’ll understand. We can’t break as easily, the two of us. She has to.”
I hoped she’d be wrong. I hoped she wouldn't understand. Understanding is being okay. Understanding is breaking away. And I wouldn’t be able to face that if she were so as close to jumping off the edge. I let go of the unfamiliar hand in mine. Looking at her, she still smiled, like a child unconscious to everything around her. I wanted to punch her right there. I blamed her for everything. I blamed her for being the constraint in my muscles to throw one, single, harmless blow that prayed to touch something and turn lethal. A nose or an eye. I repented her for being soveriegn ecstasy crashing with the inevitable mourn for faith’s death. Sweet contrite. I loathed her for being the very source of sin destructing my morality. And if anything made things worse, I remembered I lead myself to this.
We walked a mile inside the city, wide awake with vengeful ghosts filling every corner. Buildings cultivated into occupancy of taboo. Our hands discontinued entwinement, occasionally brushing the other. For realization walked forth with me, home had been thieved and would never be the same.