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You look at me, those sweet hazel eyes brimming with unshed tears. This is when you need me the most, and I can't find it in myself to be there for you. You are shattering on the inside and my heart is no longer as icy as it was. You move into my apartment, sitting on the couch and enveloping my dog in your arms. You don't seem to need me to say anything to you. You feel safe enough now. You are reassured in seeing me safe at home. He doesn't have me. He never will. You will make sure of that, even if it kills you, won't you? My little reporter. You turn your eyes to me again and gently pat the empty spot on the couch.
I sit down and you lean into me. My arms refuse to go around you and instead hang lamely at my sides. You take no notice when you let the animal go and cling to me. The tears finally make their way out of your eyes and I am silently berating myself because I have no intention of consoling you. I don't deserve you, and you know that, yet you sit here, longing for me to reach to you. I can't do this. I don't want you around. When he finally gets me, I don't want you around. Why did you get attached? Why? Why couldn't you just keep yourself at a distance. Keep the hero worship. Why did you fall in love with me? Why did I fall in love with you?
This wasn't the plan for me, you know. I wasn't supposed to be sitting here watching you cry into my shirt. My heart wasn't supposed to be breaking. You were never supposed to affect me. What happens now, Cindy, can you tell me that? No matter what I say to you, I cannot get you to leave. If I said I didn't love you, that I never will and never could, would that work? Would that keep you away? Keep you safe? Before he decides to go after those close to me, please get away. Run as far as you can from me and don't worry. Why can't you understand that?
You finally sit back, your tears have run out. "Why are you like this? Why do you always push me away?" You ask, not looking at me. I don't have an answer, but that never satisfies you, does it? "I mean, I sit there and I pour my fucking heart out to you, and all you do is look at me. You were going to answer, but then Jill showed up. And I was just cast aside." I cringe at the tone of your voice. I was going to answer, and it was going to be the one you wanted to hear, but you don't get that I am not ready for everyone to know.
I take a deep breath and wrap my arm around you. "I'm sorry. I am." My voice is a whisper, lips pressed close to your ear. I feel you shudder against my hot breath on your skin, and I can almost feel your anger sliding away. "You know I care about you, right? I push you away because I care. I don't want to see you hurt." You quickly pull away, turning your body towards me, fire in your eyes. I can feel the anger return.
"You don't want to see me hurt?! Really?! What do you think you are doing every single time I try to help you and you shove me back? That's hurt, Lindsay! I try to show you that I am there, that I am not going anywhere, that I can help take care of you, and you shove me back. Do you enjoy watching that kind of hurt? It sure as hell seems like you do!" You stand up and move across the room, looking back at me. "Tell me now. What do you feel?"
My mouth opens and closes without uttering a sound, and you let a hollow laugh escape your lips, causing a pang in my chest. Gathering what little courage and dignity I have left, I get up from the couch and move across the room to you, pinning you to the wall as I kiss you. I pull back no more than an inch and smile. "Please believe me. I don't know what I feel. I know I care. I care so much. But I don't know anything else. But please, don't run away. Don't let me be stupid and let you leave this room." I can see the smile tugging at your mouth, but you fight it as you pull me in for another kiss, and I know things are getting better. Slowly but surely, they are getting better.
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