Chapter 46 - Fear of abandonment

Despite everything that had happened, Elina was trying to comfort me. She was still unable to move properly from her bed, but she was doing her best to stop me from crying. I couldn't help but feel selfish. She was the one that was in pain, the one that almost died, and yet here I was crying. I felt disgusting thinking that I was behaving as if it was harder for me than it was for her, after she had gone through something traumatic. But even if that was the case, I couldn't stop the tears from falling endlessly.

It had taken me so long to get over my mother's death. For years I had kept a distance from every single person because I feared what would happen to me should they leave. Deep in my core was the fear of abandonment and that took form in insincere relationships. It was so deep rooted that the only way to get rid of it, was for me to cease to exist. I always kept everyone an arm's length away from me, afraid of what company would bring. People always say that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, but I didn't believe in such things. Oh how wonderful ignorance is. I have always said that I am an all or nothing type of person. If I accept someone into my life, I dedicate my all to them. I love in a way that goes beyond what others could imagine. It wasn't a beautiful story in the ways that it is often portrayed. I love until my bones are aching from the weight of it, until there is nothing else left within me. It fills me up entirely and moves my body of its own volition, that is how I love. Aware of my inability to cope well with loss, I did my best to push people away. I thought I had finally found the strength to move on. I wanted to show my mother that I had grown out of the pain that she had caused me, that she could be at peace now. But I have never been good at breaking habits. The moment I saw blood on Elina's mouth, I began regretting ever opening myself up to such pain. At that very moment, I wished that I had never gotten to know her at all. Maybe then I wouldn't be feeling like this, maybe then I wouldn't have become so weak. 

In my mind I could hear myself reciting countless love poems to her, hoping that she would be able to read them through my eyes. I longed to hold onto something that would not pain me, but every time my roses began to bloom, thorns were a byproduct. And it is inevitable that every one I meet will at one point hurt me, if the opportunity arises. But I wanted some to prove to me that this pain was worth it, that I would not walk away with bloodied hands and a withering rose. I needed proof that gardens would grow from my single plotted plant, and shelter me from the rain. I needed proof to convince myself that sufferance is a loan that will be payed back tenfold with safety, with beauty, with comfort and with everything that I could have ever wished for but believed I didn't deserve. I knew now why they say that love cannot be described. How can what I have felt be known to everyone, be seen by everyone? What I have felt, I have felt alone. When she touched my soul, a new language came into existence, so that I could proclaim my love for her before all the people.

I wanted so much and yet I was afraid of wanting anything at all. The more I had, the more I had to lose. I had firsthand experience of what it felt like to lose someone dear to me. For days on end, I was walking around like a dead man walking. When things would get difficult I struggled to find the will to live. I would go to sleep each night, praying to not be able to see the next day. And each day when I woke, I would feel my heart sink a little more at my existence. It was a terribly point in my life, where I was extremely afraid of myself. I couldn't help but think that I'd end up harming myself in one way or the other. Instead of confronting my fears, I ended up hurting those around me. I was masquerading my insecurities as recklessness and fearlessness. Everything I was seeking was surface level. Refusing to let anyone get close to me, I forced myself to wear a mask and pretend to be who I was not. At least then I could say with certainty that no one would truly know who I was, that no one could love me for what I am. 

Slowly but surely, I allowed myself to open back up to others, receptive to the warmth they had to offer. It was silly to think that I was strong enough to be able to withstand loss again. I overestimated my own ability, and in doing so I found myself more vulnerable than I had ever been. As I allowed people to see who I was, to see me for all my scars and weaknesses, I felt at peace. I felt happy knowing that they were accepting me as I was, but of course where there was happiness, there was sadness. It was a strange reality. On days where I would feel sadness, I would wish I couldn't feel at all. And yet on days where I was numb beyond words, dissociated until I couldn't even recognise my own emotions, I begged to be able to feel again even if it meant being sad. The grass always looked greener on the other side, but in reality both were just as bad as the other. I was suffering in my emotions and in the lack thereof. I was suffering when I didn't know love and when I finally allowed myself to experience it. There would not be enough words to exemplify the true magnitude of my fears because it was so vast that it made up all that I could see. My concerns spread over the horizons until there was no way to avoid them. I could pretend all I wanted but when push came to shove, I was back where I started. 

Every day that I had spent with my friends, I was extremely happy. My days were brighter and colourful in a way that I had previously not known to be possible. After spending so long in a monochrome world, having my world painted with colour was amazing. My surroundings seemed to be sparkling with life that I had previously not noticed. I was happy but I was afraid of happiness. From a young age I believed that every good thing must be followed by something bad. That was the natural course of things because the world would always balance itself out. On days of suffering it would being me momentary relief to believe that at the end of all of my struggles, I would gain something of equal value. But on days when I felt happy, I was filled with anxiety of what may come. Perhaps I didn't believe that I was even deserving of happiness, or of love, or company in any form. Even in my happiness I never allowed myself to truly be happy, always wondering about what could possibly go wrong. So here I was now. I had allowed myself to relax and life came to take advantage of that. I found comfort in others so I was being paid back by experiencing hurt. I knew I wasn't the cause of all of this, that I hadn't harmed Elina, but somehow I felt like this was all my fault. Being around me must be what caused this. I was the bringer of bad news and I would only harm those around me. In my selfishness to experience the good in the world, I had allowed Elina to taste the bad. 

I knew I was spiralling but I couldn't help it. Seeing her in pain was making me feel so sick that I wanted to rip out my insides and get rid of the root of the problem. Everyone was looking at me like they couldn't understand what was happening. No one had ever seen me like this, as I usually lock myself away on days where I feel so self destructive. But today they would see me in all my glory. If needed, I would rip open my ribs and show them all of the chaos within my heart. I wanted to love them in a way that was violent. I wanted to hold them all until our bones melded together and until the lines of our palms intertwined. I wanted to leave my fingerprints on their skin to tell the world that these are the people I treasure with all of my being, these are the people I would throw my own life away for. I wanted so badly to hold onto them and keep them safe from the outside, to protect their purity and cast a veil over their eyes to prevent them from seeing the evil that corrupts the world. But that would not do anyone any good. My possessiveness was not good. They were their own people and had to live their own lives. I could do nothing but stand by and watch as they progress through life and go through trials and errors to become the people they would soon become.

Once my tears had finally come to an end, I got up and made my way to Elina. There was only enough space for one person on her bed but I got in with her, our body's more or less entangled with one another. It was childish I suppose but I wanted to feel her to convince myself that she truly was okay, that she had survived and was right here next to me. She didn't seem at all fazed; perhaps she knew me well enough to have expected this behaviour of me. I snuggled into her and in that moment I didn't know whether I was trying to protect her from the world, or whether I instead wanted to be protected in her embrace. It didn't make a difference because all I knew was that right now, the two of us were together. We had each other and that's what mattered the most. I was still shaken by everything, still gripped by the fear of loss, but right now, I could feel her heart beating against me and the warmth of her fingers on my back. Every inch of my body could feel her existence and I wouldn't dare forget it. I was trying to memorise everything from the tune of her heartbeat to the feeling of her breath on my skin. I needed to ingrain it all in my mind. 

Though this entire time everyone had been surrounding Elina and speaking to her, for the first time I had become the main focus of attention. 

"Persephone Gabris." Helios called out to me and I felt chills running down my spine. I held onto Elina's dress, like a child afraid of being taken away from their guardian. He was the monster under my bed that would snatch me away at any moment. 

"Under suspicion of attempting to poison Elina Sinclair, you are to be questioned and detained until a verdict can be reached. It would do you good to not resist. Anything you do or say can be used against you in court." Although I was clinging onto Elina, I wasn't strong enough to resist authority. My heart was tearing apart from being separated from her when we both needed it most, but I was being dragged away by knights for questioning. I tightly clenched my mouth shut to stop any sobs from escaping, unwilling to let strangers see this side of me. But my body was so weak from sadness, so fragile, that the knights near enough dragged me away. 

I could hear everyone yelling behind me, calling out to me. They were angry and upset but most of all trusting. They had full faith that I had nothing to do with this situation, so they were quick to voice their opinions and try to stop me from being taken away. But what could they do? Only a few days prior I had been accused of purchasing poison. At this point in time, that was the only lead towards finding the true perpetrator. So even if I was facing grave injustice, I had to suck it up. I had to hope that at least through finding out who made up the allegation, they would be able to find the person responsible and pay them back for what they had put Elina through. With a heavy heart and weak legs I tried to walk towards the carriage, ready to be misjudged for the thousandth time in my life.