The Scar That Moves

I took my feelings from the fragile glass bottle from behind the photo of my antecedent treasure on the colossal jut - the same feelings I had kept secretly tucked away in the crevasse of the handle since we initially met, that fateful day in English class eight extraordinary months back.

I let my feelings out and allowed them to run amuck in the hope it would release the built up tension of my heart, in the hope it will bring happiness and joy - rather I became distraught, confused and cheerless. It’s an irksome, breathless, extinct feeling of life. I shout and scream at the cascade of being "Why is our tide always amiss?", I set myself on a bare and shallow quest to find the answer in the silence, yet all I can conceive is an abandoned void in my belated heart, as it beats ever so slowly under my arctic feeling breasts.

I draw back wishing i could turn back time, wishing i had just eclipsed my crevasse hidden feelings from you, my gratification and my drift of life was stripped from me, like a cold wax torn from my arms and placed in a piddling unpurposed box and placed into the filth basket where they were never to be seen or felt again.

Now I’m collapsing and my hearts corroding more with each fatigued pulsation of my heart. I struggle to alude the image of being alone, abandoned and unwanted, my heart is starving for the sweet taste of a companion, yet i have trifle to satisfy it with. I can't contend without you, it’s like we have become two far-flug people, the last thing you said, was twenty seconds ago, it cut like a keen uncontaminated sword deep beneath my skin. It feels like an eternity has just passed without you.

I don't feel our relationship has meaning any longer, i am afraid those six words just ruined our friendship that we both worked so hard at making; i let you down yet again. I am carving scars into your heart.

I collapse right there and then in a heap, like a pack of cards that were blown over by the wind. I am out cold, I feel nothing and then I start dreaming that I am counterfeiting that i can have a significant bond with another girl. She is not my type, she won't exclusively fill my void, but she’s got to be better than trifle. I ask her the same six worded question i asked you, and she said yes with open arms.

Our new accord is already feeling hollow, my sentiment for her are astray, I’m just using her for the girlfriend appellation, and it feels erratic. I am her enchantment but she is not mine. I am going to hurt her as I did you. I just started a shallow relationship, and I know it’s not going to develop.

I take up to continue the lie, although I foresee the even bigger hollows. I feel criminal, like my reactions are a sharp blade of a knife, and I am causing her heart to bleed. I don't seem to care about her feelings; I am going out with her to show off to you that I can just get another girl, and that I want to believe you aren't the only one for me.

My feelings should be left in the bottle, locked in a high up cupboard, when they escape, I only hurt more people. I should be a single, its how I was produced, its how I will take my one way ticket to my grave.

I lied to her for a just over three weeks before she realised i just didn't feel as she did. She said "we need to talk", which in my mind is just as good as "I want to break up". I went over to her place that afternoon straight after school, prepared for the worst, I drove my little blue corolla over there, I spent all of about ten minutes there, she stated how she felt, and I told her my side of the story. She dumped me, and she had every right to.

I walk out the house, down the long driveway and get back into my car; I turn the key, put it in reverse and slowly back out of her driveway. I take of down the road like there is no tomorrow, and in my mind, there won’t be, I have wrecked the lives of two wonderful girls.

I tell myself there is no partner for me in this town, I haven’t many friends and I’m telling myself I have no chance at finding a partner. I don’t sleep for three weeks; I lay awake, staring at the ceiling thinking about what I should do.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore, I can’t loose sleep, I can’t keep thinking of the people I have let down, I have to get out of here, I have no place in this town. I’m going to a place of sunshine, a place of happiness and a place where I can start a new life; my place will be in Newcastle.

I start packing my bags; I haven’t that much to pack. I pack the photos, each one reminding me of my friends I thought I had. I thought these people loved me for who I was, yet in my reality, they don’t. I take some time to write you a note, I say that I can’t be here with you, I can’t hurt like this, and that I don’t understand myself. I seal it in an envelope and write your name on it, I leave it on my desk hoping that somehow miraculously you get it.

I pick up my bags and make the trip down to the car, down the short hallway, down all 18 stairs and out the door, I see my mum standing on the porch, she’s looking straight at me, there are wells of tears in her eyes, but she does nothing, and she says nothing, she just watches. She doesn’t understand why, but neither do I.

As I climb into the driver’s seat of my car I try to fight away the tears, they are forming like wells, it’s too much, I can’t fight them, I let them out. My face is red, my eyes are blurred and my mind is full of images of you, with you telling me, it can never be.

When I had fought away enough tears to unblur my vision, I started the engine, and I reversed down the driveway, I pause briefly at the end to take one last glance at the house I grew up in.

I take the short journey down Callista Road where I lived; I see and wave at my now old neighbours. They have a sad look in their face as if they already know. I keep my eyes fixated on the road; I avoid eye contact with all of them.

I drive onto the main road and continue on for 4 hours straight. Eventually I can’t take it anymore, I stop on the side of the highway, my hands move from the steering wheel to cover my eyes from the world and I start to cry. “I have no future”, I scream “I only have a past”.

What seems like hours has past before I start off for the final stretch to my new hometown. The sun is bright and the sky is cloudless, when I arrive the locals are smiling, it’s just another average day in their lives, but it’s a black mark in mine.

I start looking for somewhere to stay, but all the motels are full and no one has room for me. I try the real estate, but the best they can do is a tiny doghouse one bedroom unit on the outskirts of town. I have no choice but to take it.

I pay the bond and four weeks rent in advance, I take the key and I start the drive to my new home, I soon discover its in the scummy alcoholic area of town, I see people like me, lonely, depressed, broken hearts and broken lives. I will fit in perfectly I keep telling myself.

I pull out the old rusted key to the door of the unit, I push it into the old lock and turn, and the door opens with a great of struggle, but eventually it gives and opens. Inside I am greeted with the putrid smell of loneliness, the sort of smell that leaves your stomach dragging along the ground behind you.

I planned to enter my new home full of hopes and dreams, I dreamt of a new life, without thinking of you, but I come to the realisation that wiping you from my life would be harder that I could have ever imagined.

I get the photos from my bags; I sit them on the mouldy and swollen kitchen bench. I find the photo of you, and I cry, the one girl I truly loved I say to myself but I wrecked it all, I wrecked our friendship.

I hear the muffled tune to star wars playing, it’s my phone, it’s in the bottom of my bag, I frantically search to find it, to find who is calling me. It’s you calling; you’re calling to see if I am ok. “I’m fine” I tell you, we both know that I’m not. I tell you I am asking myself am I not pretty enough? Is my heart to broken? Why can’t I make you laugh? Should I have tried harder or would it have made things worse?

You tell me you got the note and you’re trying to tell me something, but I’m too busy trying to work out how to how to start over, have I just torn my life in two pieces?

The next day I find myself looking for a job, some way of making money, some way of survival. There is nothing, I leave each place with a sadder face than the previous one. The saddest thing is knowing that I can never return to Queanbeyan.

I arrive home at five after spending the day searching for anything. About twenty minutes later, a short man arrives from the local florist. He is holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hand, he starts reading the card. It reads:
“Why look so sad?
There are tears in your eyes
Come on and come to me now
Don’t be ashamed to cry
Let me see you through
Coz I’ve seen the dark side too
When the night falls on you
And you don’t know what to do
I’ll stand by you”
The flowers are from you. I thank the short man, and I put the flowers on the swollen and mouldy kitchen bench next to the photo of you.

I call you and on the phone you start crying, calling yourself a cow, your telling me that the only reason you said no, was because of the way your now ex-boyfriend treated your fragile heart.

He swept you off your feet, too you to the highest point of the tallest building, he took your heart and threw it off. It hit rock bottom with an almighty force, shattering your fragile heart into a million pieces.

You say you sincerely love me with your heart, but your not ready to, because part of your heart is still in other places, and you don’t want to start what would be an already failing relationship.

I can’t take it anymore, I throw the phone across the small doghouse room and it hits the dark dingy brick wall, and it shatters into a million pieces, just like my heart is. I am furious and lost, do you love me or is the word love clichéd?

I slump myself into the dirt covered deck chair, thinking about why it got too much, was it the thought of your ex-boyfriend stuffing up my chances? Or was it the fact I ran away from a problem that never existed?

After an hour I get up and walk, I don’t know where I am going, all I can hear is the ocean in front of me, and the busy-ness of the city behind me, it’s like I am in a limbo. Within about 15 minutes I am at Bar Beach, its weird feeling standing on the edge of a country, it’s like an empty hollow feeling realising that this is where it ends. What’s the point now? I’ve thrown it all away, one more step and I can’t wreck any more relationships or lives.

I stop for a seconds, I hear someone crying, it sounds familiar. It’s a young girl, she’s screaming “Why God” in between the tears. It sounds so familiar, like I have heard that exact cry before. I start walking towards it, I didn’t have to walk far to discover that it was you.

I ran to you and you ran to me, we collide and hug each other. I caress the moment, suddenly my life feels complete. The butterflies I felt when we first me are now back and stronger than ever.

In the moment I come to the realisation that my heart was never incomplete, rather my mind saw through people, even you. It wasn’t my heart that was incomplete, rather my mind.

Our shoulder are like rivers, each river is flowing from the others heart - a salt river, so pure and so full of emotion. I yearn to say the three words my heart is feeling, I can’t bring myself to say them, and I’m scared of being rejected again.

Then I wake, your arms are around me and you are crying on my shoulder, and I start crying on yours. It’s a strange place with a white roof a bed and clean sheets. Your there, you’ve been there for hours; I have been there for weeks.

You see I have woken, and you cry harder and I start crying to. Then the nurse comes in, she tells me what happen, I had hit my head on the side of a seat and split it open and knocked myself out, so told me how lucky I was to be alive, and all I could do was agree - because I had you.

I feel for the scar on the back of my head, they have shaved my hair off, I am ugly, yet you still want to be there for me, can life get any better than this?