chattering and shaking from the cold.
“Erin … what the heck?”
Her eyes are my downfall.
Swollen, deep and drowning in tears.
In a second I fall apart. I’m in a million little
pieces that intermingle with the falling hail.
My convictions, my fears, my never-ending
bullshit.
Everything breaks.
I break myself.
And I don’t want to be put back together,
because if being broken down this badly is what it
takes to finally see what you’ve tried to hide from
sight and from your heart for thirty years, then I
don’t give a fuck about being reduced to a million
pieces. I could stay like this forever. I could be just
air, as long as it’sherair,heroxygen, and I could
be the one that allows her to breathe and to live.
Because now I have a goal.
Now something is important to me.
Someone.
Now she is important to me.
9
Erin
After watching the scene Patrick created, I can’t
stand to be there anymore and run away like a
baby in front of a horror film, taking refuge at the
back of the pub. I start sobbing so hard that I’m
afraid someone will hear me in there, and so in a
moment of confusion, I open the door and close it
