Drowning

 

It was too soon. Far too soon to say such powerful words, when she knew they would not be returned. But she could not help it. They just sort of came out; and when she started, she could not bring herself to stop. He told her it was all right; that it was the right thing to do in telling him, but she could not help but think that maybe she had made a mistake. He could not return the words. Feelings, yes, however, in an attempt to not hurt her, he stayed silent. It only hurt her more.

 

            She wanted to cry. So desperately did she desire all of her pent up emotions to come flooding out in a wave of pain. But she could not. Not yet, he needed her to be strong, to be able to understand why. So she was strong for him. But all of her tears would stream down her cheeks. Behind closed doors, where she could not hurt him with her sobs, which would surely strike his heart like knives.

 

            It was her fault anyways. She said the words. He was not ready to hear them. But he had asked. Why was she always saying those things, why did she always have that written? Did they mean anything? Or were they just words? She could not lie to him. Nor could she come up with a decent cover. Like all the other times. No, instead she told him. She added more burden to his shoulders. And now she felt terrible for it.

 

            She could not blame him. Not in the slightest. She came in half-way through, and saved him from his demons. But, in staying, she brought her own. If only she had not felt this way, if only she were there as a friend. But no, she had fallen. And now, she was drowning.