fact that I’ve looked for her in crowds and have been disappointed when I didn’t see her. I resent the fact that I’ve looked for pieces of her in women that I’ve dated. When they’ve shown me selfishness, I’ve thought about Lana’s generosity. When they’ve shown me vanity, I’ve thought of Lana’s modest, humble approach to her looks.
Worse of all was when they’d look me in the eyes and all I saw was blue, brown and green, no spark of fire lit inside of me, or them, and yet they were content to keep pretending. I couldn’t and never would be able to. I’ve held real love in my hands. I know with a simple touch my heart can beat at an unknown speed. I’ve felt the high of looking across the room, seeing the one person who makes me feel invincible.
I’ve always tried my best at everything, failing never used to scare me. That feeling went from being my normal confident nature to a euphoric sensation when I finally had Lana in my bed, head and heart. Knowing at the end of every day, Lana was mine. Knowing I was able to rest my head next to hers for the rest of my life, whether it was under a mansion or a crumbling shack, nothing else mattered. Failing with her beside me would never truly be defeat, I’d already won.
Lana cut me to the core. She demolished all we’d built. It was weeks later when I realized she hadn’t only taken my heart, but also my future too. Nothing had color anymore.
I willingly let her in, and she left a mark. She scarred me beyond repair, brought me to my knees and broke me. She gave me hope and then all I was left with was longing, agonizing craving for the woman who shattered my heart.
Five years later, and staring at her now, I wonder how the hell I held myself back for so long. How did my pride grow stronger than my heart?
I move quickly to the door and close it quietly. However, I’m unable to step away. I slide down the wall and rest my head against it. Exhaling loudly, I turn my head toward the room. I’m exhausted as if five years of heartbreak just passed through me like a ghost.
***
Lana
I wake to darkness and a fresh breeze flowing in through the nearby window. Touching my left cheek, I remember the sting from my brother’s slap and the burning through my chest. A line I never thought would exist was crossed today, one that cannot be taken back.
My stomach grumbles, so I decide to head downstairs and get something to eat. I quietly walk to the door not wanting to wake anybody. I don’t want their looks of pity or worried glances. I don’t want a reminder of the day, just thoughts on how I’m going to move forward now, where I’m going to live and what I’m going to do for money. I have a bit in my savings, but not enough to rent a house and buy all the things that I’d need to live in it.
Turning the handle on the door, I open it slowly and peek out through the crack. My eyes widen in surprise when I spot Mack sitting against the wall next to my door, fast asleep with an empty bowl beside him. Opening the door wider to step out, I cringe as the door creaks. Mackson doesn’t stir, he stays fast asleep, and the look on his face is one of peace.
My heart twists when I realize I’d forgotten what he looked like when he was sleeping. His lips always parted slightly and pouted, his features softened, and his messy hair gave him an adorable look that anyone would have trouble pulling their eyes away from.
I sigh. What I wouldn’t give to be the woman in his life who was allowed to smooth down that hair and snuggle in between his legs and arms. I could sleep right there, in his arms sitting up, nothing in this world is more comfortable than being held by Mack. Trust me, I’ve tried to find other ways, other men. Nothing compares.
My limbs grow heavy and I wonder how I’ve gone on pretending so well for the past five years with this hole in my heart. I always thought the key was to ignore those feelings, the loss. But seeing him again, knowing my feelings are stronger now than years ago, moving away