yaz’s Reviews > The Oath We Give > Status Update

This is the problem with being silent—everyone assumes your feelings. They build your narrative without facts and spit it out at you like it’s truth, using context clues and bullshit to spin a web so they can understand you.

“How do I say I want to know everything about you more than everything? What you’ll be and where you’ve been. I want to know what it feels like to touch you, really fucking touch you.
How do I tell him that I want that but can’t have it?
That it would kill him if I took what I wanted.”

“Ask me.”
“What?” I whisper, taking another deep breath as I open my eyes, even though I can’t see him.
“Whatever you need to know, ask me.” His voice is steady. “Ask me. Let me talk to you. Make me more than a voice.”

As I read, tears burn the corners of my eyes, and it leaves me wondering.
Is anyone truly who they pretend to be?

Break myself open just so I can have her. Tug on the strings that she has wound so tightly around herself so I can see what’s underneath as she unravels for me. 

With pain comes remembrance. The throb and ache of loss is a constant reminder of the person who no longer exists. When you hurt, you remember everything so clearly because the pain forces you to. 

I have no one because I’ve made myself an island. Looked in the mirror one day and said it’s better to be alone. When you’re alone, no one can hurt you.
But that’s the thing.
When you’re alone, no one can help you either.

Little needles prick the back of my neck at how she says my name, reminding me how she said it the other night. A feeling I believed long gone pools in my gut.
Desire.
Desire to hear her say my name again.

“They say you don’t talk much. Yet, that doesn’t seem to be the case.”
“With you.”
My answer surprises her. Maybe it’s the honesty, maybe it’s her disbelief. It is true that I don’t talk a lot, not to strangers or just for fun, but I like talking to her.”

Instead, I cut her a check whenever they need funding or a donation in Rosemary’s name. I didn’t want this organization, Hedi’s work and her pain, to become a marketing tool for Hawthorne Technology. 
Those girls deserve to be more than a pity card