.

.

Inescapable

She didn't think she would fall in love with him. She didn't think she could stay in love with him after what he did. But she did. And she was. She collapsed nearly every night wishing for all the feelings to go away, and when they finally did, she wanted to regret praying for a nothingness. But she didn't feel regret. She didn't feel anything.

Except maybe when she went to see him—someone was who completely different from everyone else. He wasn't as broken as her. Or maybe he was more broken. He was alive though and she pretended that was the thing that mattered.

From the start, he told her she never needed to knock. She never had to call ahead of time. She never knew she had to be there until she was standing on his doorstep anyway. It wasn't a moment of weakness. It was a life of torture and uncertainty, and there was no one else to turn to, and there were days that she hated that realization, then there were days she was content with it being only him.

"I can't eat and I can't sleep," she told him as she stared out at the sinking sun.

"Have you talked to anyone about it?"

She wanted to shout that she was talking to him, but she only said, "I'm fine."

He stood beside her and pressed her head to his chest. The weight of his hand reminded her that she wasn't drifting. It reminded her she was a survivor. She didn't understand why.

The sun descended under the horizon.

They were cold dark matter and when she kissed him, he tasted like whiskey, dry ice, and iron. Maybe unbendable steel. She searched deep for this security. But he held her back with a strength that surpassed her weakness. For a brief moment, he caught the burning blaze in her green eyes and it reminded him of a forest fire. But those are hard to extinguish and hers disappeared in a flash.

He longed for those milliseconds back, those invisible beats between unnoticeable seconds, so he brought her to him again and kissed her like he loved her. They could feel their souls escaping their bodies to admire their sudden freeness. It was a great escape, if only temporary, but held the promise of possible permanence.

Months passed. Time moved on but was frozen. Life got better as it got worse. There were times when she thought she made it through everything only to look around at the people surrounding her in a crowd and see the death in them, even though they were more alive than she'd ever be.

She dropped to the floor as something cold seemed to slice through her chest and destroy the façade she so carefully wore. Her right hand gripped her chemise with the thought of ripping her heart from her body. Her fingers felt the sweat in her hair and for a glorious, terrifying moment, she believed the end had finally found her.

But then he was leaning next to her, and she saw his face amid a blurry background. He shook his head and reminded her: "Not today."

Breath filled her lungs, but it was cold and she was sure her insides were turning to ice. Still, she nodded and allowed him to pull her up and bury her face in his shirt. She never wanted anyone to see her pain, but she sobbed against him as thousands of people walked by.

She wanted to talk to him about it. About that night, about their friends, about the monsters. It was time to stop ignoring.

"Who do you miss the most?" She asked, not even considering if it was an immoral or fair question.

"Myself," he answered, the gold is his eyes becoming tainted with time. Then, "You. I miss you."

It was easy accepting something that was seen. But feelings were trickier. Remembering other people for who they were was calming, but losing yourself was disastrous and that's what left the world in ruins.

He was who she was now, and she was him, and though that should have been comforting, it was also ensnaring. They wanted to be strong for the other but never for themselves.

So when she unexpectedly ended up at his place to discover moving boxes and plastic covered furniture, she understood all too well what it meant.

…

…

She backs up until her back collides with the wall and she slowly slides down until she hits the cold floor.

"You're leaving me, too," she whispers, her hands shaking in her hair as her blurred eyes search the air for an answer that would never appear.

"No, I'm freeing you," he tugs at her hands, tensing when she tries pulling away. But her hands are tiny in his and it's obvious she has no willpower to stop him. "We're trapped here, can't you see?"

She understands. She constantly felt the bubble around them getting smaller, and the closer they got, the more their demons screamed. The voices in their heads whimpered for release and the monsters in their hearts sadistically fooled them into believing they had found a kindred spirit. But no soul should ever be that tortured.

"But you're the only one that can remind me I'm alive."

He doesn't respond and she knows it's because it's the same for him. They say it's darkest before the dawn, but dawn is here and their world is bright with a fire that is turning to ash. Endings are inevitable and they wonder why theirs hasn't come yet.

"Come with me."

And the burnt earth continues spinning.