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Bless the broken road…
Where hers is wet and flooded with tears.
Where his is dry and unyielding to the touch.
Another break-up. Another goodbye said. Another tear shed. Another heartbreak. Another month of loneliness.
She can never find that someone who’s meant for her. She always messes it up and makes the wrong decision.
At least she still has her brother. But in the long run, she and Danwill eventually separate. Though they are siblings, they can't always be by each other's side. And when he finally finds the one that's meant for him, she will have no one.
Compensation for a loss is hard to come by.
She doesn’t know why she keeps up this charade, moving from one person to another. Growing up with Dan and no one else who understands has scarred her. She never wants to be alone and so she acts hastily. She can’t make the right choice.
She is broken when they all leave her. Because it ushers in the nightmares.
The nightmares of darkness.
Of her parents, driving the car, watching as it careened out of control, helpless. Amy wonders if they were screaming. Or crying. Or did they simply close their eyes and wait for the end?
She picks up the phone and calls him. He always makes everything feel all right. Even though it’s an illusion, even though it’s short-lived, even though it’s as ephemeral and ever-changing as the weather.
He picks up the phone on the first ring.
“Hey, Amy?” he says, checking the caller ID before answering it.
“Hamilton?”
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
She is silent.
It dawns on him.
“Not…?”
“Yes. We broke up.”
There is only the sound of his slow, steady breathing.
“Want me to come over?” he asks, like he always does.
“No, I’m fine,” she answers, the usual answer, the usual routine.
Neither of them knows why they’re doing this. Needing the other but too hesitant to ask for it.
“Holt!” comes an irritated yell.
“Got to go,” he says.
“Okay. I’m sorry for bothering you for something so trivial…”
“No, it’s fine,” he assures her. “Whatever you need, anything at all, just call me.”
“Thank you, Hammer.”
He smiles at the mention of his nickname. “No prob. Bye.”
As he snaps the phone shut, he makes a mental note to visit her later.
Not because he loves her or anything, but because he’s her friend.
Bless the broken road…
Where hers is pitted and scarred.
Where his is narrow and smooth.
Somebody rings the doorbell and its sound, that of a bird chirping, resonates through the air.
“Dan!” Amy calls. “Can you please open that?”
With a bit of grumbling on the side, Dan opens the door.
“Oh, hey, Hamilton. My sister’s in her room,” he tells the young man standing on the doorstep, dressed in a white jacket trimmed with blue, light blue shirt, jeans and shoes.
Hamilton nods and goes on up.
“Amy?”
Amy starts from her position on the bed. She raises her head, green eyes rimmed red with crying, reddish-brown hair awry from her tossing and turning. She attempts to keep it in control before padding barefoot to the door and opening it.
“Hamilton?”
He regards her with concern. Not only does her face show signs of what her mood has been for the past few hours, her clothes are slightly rumpled and she suddenly seems so fragile, so breakable. She looks away from his measuring gaze, knowing that he knows, aware of what he sees, and unable to keep it from him.
Because he’s her best friend since they first met when they were kids, a child of her father's friend, and he was with her when she broke down during her parents' funeral. He can always gauge her reactions and her emotions.
“Are you all right?” he blurts, though he expects the lie that comes his way.
“Of course I am.” Her smile is fake, lacking the sincerity, depth and charm that Amy wears on the days she is happiest. Her eyes are curiously blank, and despite her carefully controlled tone, there is something off about it.
He doesn’t comment and she waits for none.
“Why are you here?” she asks. “I thought I told you not to come.”
She doesn’t want him to see her this way.
“I had some free time and decided to drop by, just to check on things,” he replies. Half-true, but she won’t call him on that.
“Oh.” She shifts her weight uncomfortably.
“May I go in?”
She bites her lip, debating on this for a few seconds. Then she nods and steps aside to let him in, shutting the door behind him. Downstairs, Dan has resumed his video game marathon and he’ll be at it for a while, but she still ensures that he won’t come in.
He sits on the floor, cross-legged, and watches her as she settles onto the edge of her bed. She seems calm, but she is betrayed by her slim hands clutching onto the frame for support, her knuckles shining white in the gloom of her bedroom, lit only by the remaining rays of the sun before it dips out of sight in the west.
The space is filled with quiet, but even in the mute surroundings, one can pick up the indecipherable strains of emotions, struggling against the oppression of silence. Amy holds back her tears and Hamilton holds back the urge to force her into admitting her pain. Because it is something not to be taken lightly, a line he cannot be allowed to cross.
Until a sob escapes from her throat.
He looks at her, unsure how to act.
Another sob, pushing against her reserve.
She bows her head. Slowly, as if frozen in time, the drops fall, one by one, onto the ground.
He watches until he can’t take it anymore.
Without a word, Hamilton scrambles to his feet and gathers her in his arms, stroking through the silky strands of her hair, shushing and murmuring, “It’s okay”, over and over again. Amy tries to hold on to a piece of sanity, a bit of reason, but even she cannot be heartless stone to everything. She buries her face in his chest and cries, unrestrained, because he is her friend, because he is her salvation, because he is always there when she needs someone to break through her defenses and tell her it’s all right to let go.
And he does all that because he cares for her, he understands her, he wants her to know that she will never be alone.
Because he loves her.
And they stand there, neither of them knowing just how much they mean to each other, but now shunned by the world at large, these two outcasts seek the warmth of those abandoned like they are.
Bless the broken road…
Where she searches for the one who’ll keep her heart safe and strong.
Where he waits for her silently, has waited for her all along.
He tries to make sense of all that he’s doing, all that he’s sacrificing. He tries to figure out why he lets her be hurt when it is his touch that she so obviously needs. He tries not to get too close because he’ll lose to his own wants and needs, which is unacceptable, because he must always think of her and not himself.
This pretending is getting out of hand and widening the wounds he bears in his heart.
But he will not say it.
He just shows.
He will not notice it.
He just knows.
He will keep her safe.
He won’t turn her away.
He was there, he is there, he will be there.
He will always be there.
Bless the broken road…
Where she shirks from reality.
Where he tries to pull her out of her dreams.
She doesn’t know why he puts up with all this drama. Mopping up the flood waters, catching her from spiral falls, picking up the shattered pieces, putting them back together again, though he knows that they’ll be broken. Though he knows that it will repeat. Though he knows that it makes her feel guilty, this help and comfort that comes at no price and with so much that is given up.
This game, this cycle, is so tiring and repetitive, the breaking and the healing.
But she cannot stop it.
She doesn’t know how.
She cannot give it up.
She doesn’t see why.
She cannot find the courage.
She is all no and never, all lies and made-up, all illusions and surreal.
She can’t find a way out.
She can’t.
Bless the broken road…
Where she learns to release her fears.
Where he replaces them with truths.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks, pulling away. “Why do you always come running?”
He smiles. “Why not?”
She is moved to anger by his nonchalant response. “But it’s unfair for you! You don’t deserve it! I don’t deserve it!”
He stares at her trembling lips, tear-stricken face, and the confusion in her eyes.
“It’s not unfair if I get to have your heart even for so short a time.”
It is out in the open. So casually invoked. So carelessly uttered. And yet the two hearts that beat falter and stop, taken aback by this bold declaration.
His face hardens when he realizes that a response is not forthcoming.
“Forget what I said. Doesn’t matter,” he mutters harshly.
She blinks.
“You…you don’t really mean that, do you?” she whispers.
He scowls. “You figure it out. You’re a smart girl.”
He releases his hold on her. “Seeing as you want me gone, guess I’ll leave.”
She stiffens as he crosses over to the door in a few lengthy strides.
He waits in vain for her to say something, anything.
She does, but it's not what he wants to hear.
"You can't always run to my side. You won't always be there. Just...just go. It's better this way. You won't get anything from me, and I don't want to get used to having you around."
He wants to counter her words, but the look on her face tell him that her words are final, unbreakable, solid. She does not want to hear anything more. This is a wound that he can't heal.
And so he leaves her, the sunset morphing into black night, shrouding them both in cloaks of darkness.
Bless the broken road…
Where she chases after her light.
Where he becomes an absence of light.
The wall between them, once so easily scaled, is now impenetrable. Hard as diamond, cold as ice, quiet as graveyards, listless as spirits.
It is impossible to reach.
She huddles in a corner, thoughts muddled, feeling lost without purpose.
He sits up straight, thoughts calm, devoid of emotion.
They seek escape.
She moves like a zombie, unaware of her surroundings, doing things by rote.
He moves like a tornado, reckless and wild, whirling through everything else.
They are empty.
She forces smiles and lies, does nothing but lie.
He frowns and says truths, brutally reveals truths.
They become extremes.
She knows it’s unfair to need him when all she does is hurt him.
He knows it’s unfair to need her when all he does is hurt her.
They need each other.
Bless the broken road…
Where she lets it take her where it wants to go.
Where he relinquishes control.
For the first time in three weeks, she’s mingling with the crowds. Not because there is a need to but because she knows she has to get over her moping. Add to that the fact that Dan literally pushed her out the door this morning, saying that she needs to “Get a life.”
But, Amy muses, what exactly is life? What do you mean by living?
Is it defined by the pain and sorrow? By the joy and happiness? By what she experiences?
But that isn’t living. That is simply surviving, like any human being is trained to do. And surviving is different from living.
Unless life is defined by the means you go through in order to survive.
She suddenly feels normal. She is returning to her analytical side which breaks down information and pores over the mysteries that present themselves to her seemingly by accident. It gives her…a purpose.
She doesn’t pay much attention to where she is, lost in her own thoughts and welcoming them. Back in her own world which takes her by the hand and leads her to a place where she does not have to put up a façade.
It simply gives her the liberty to be who she is.
Who she is…
Who he is…
It simply gives him the liberty to be who he is.
Solitude found not in sports, which only serves to spike his aggravation, but in clearing his mind. Back in his own world which is black and white, singling out the hard facts that he needs to focus on.
He wonders where his feet will take him, but he has long since given up hope for an answer. Those are not easy to come by; you have to fight tooth and nail in order to obtain them. An easily-gained solution is a rare treasure to have.
Walking, one foot in front of the other. A step, a step, another step. Because you keep moving despite everything that happens, because you know you can’t always control the paths you take, because you know it’s out of your hands.
The roads, the bumps and the pits…
They’ll all make sense.
Eventually.
And that is why he keeps going. He has faith that it will take him to his destination.
Soon.
Bless the broken road…
Where her path meets his.
Where his path meets hers.
She doesn’t expect it and is thus unprepared when she loses her balance and falls to the ground. Somebody catches her in time.
“I’m sorry,” they both say, and then their eyes widen.
Was this premeditated by fate?
Or was this simply a coincidence?
Hamilton steadies her then removes his hands. Amy blushes and scrutinizes the ground. Around them, the people pass, ignoring them completely.
“Are we just going to keep quiet? We’re blocking the way, you know.”
She looks up at him.
“I…um…”
He sighs.
“If you have something to say, let it out.”
