So there you are. Sat, lights off, cat curled up on your lap. Your Playstation whirrs softly and you can barely take your eyes away from the screen. You know what happens. You’ve seen it in gifs and photosets and youtube clips and you’ve heard tell that it’s cathartic and harrowing and that you’ll never look at him the same way once you’ve seen it.
It’s really by chance that you’re watching it now. You thought you’d go and watch to take your mind off of all the thousand other things you should be concentrating on and worrying about. It was just a coincidence that you’d been through the rest of the season and the next disc up happened to have those 3 episodes on.
Oh Well, you thought, What’s the worst that could happen eh? And you were right, to an extent. There were moments where you’d break out of your blank expression to give a small laugh, and the cat would reward you with a stare that went completely unnoticed by you.
But the episode goes on, and your mild amusement and admiration fades to mild panic and your thoughts get a little jumbled. This isn’t really going to happen now, is it? There have been so many other times like this where it’s gone completely fine in the end. This is another one of those times, right?
But you look on in horror as the tears stain her face with black mascara, and she pounds her fist against the wall like it’s the only thing separating them and if she could just punch her way through he’d be there, standing bold as brass with his hands in his pockets doing that stupid thing he does where something important is happening and he’s too cool to acknowledge it, but you know he notices.
And there he is, features impassive as he holds his ear to the very same wall. The same wall in a different place and time, a different universe. He’s got his hand pressed gently against it, and you think back to the start of the episode, when he first entered the room and did the same thing. You close your eyes because you can’t bear to see that look on his face, and open them to see him remove his hand and walk away alone.
You feel a lump grow in your throat, and swallow helplessly to try and ease it a little. It’s useless, and the tears are already stinging your eyes and though you try to blink them back defiantly you find yourself shaking with uneven, draining sobs. The kind that make it feel like your entire soul is aching and has been aching for so long and you’ve done a sterling job of keeping it suppressed until now, when you let out a choked wail and the cat jumps up and flees. You can’t bring yourself to blame him.
You draw your arms around yourself and pull your hood over your head, tucking your knees up under the duvet so you can barely even see the screen between the material. But you can still see, just barely. You try to stay quiet but it’s hard to and you keep choking back sobs, ever more aware of the crushing weight building in your chest. This is it, this is that part that so many people have cried over so many times and you’re raw and bitter from the world and your mind flicks to your father and you wonder briefly if you’ll be able to say goodbye.
You know what’s happening on the screen though you’ve never seen it before. You still can’t now, your eyelashes are coated with tears and your vision is distorted as the light shines through the tiny droplets still clinging on despite your blinking.
The weight in your chest can’t be held back, and you finally give in, resting your forehead on your knees and sobbing, forgetting whatever else might be on the screen. You fumble for the remote and mute it, you can’t take any more of this torture. The breaths you manage to suck in between sobs is insufficient. You can’t breathe and you don’t even care because nothing is right.
You wonder fleetingly if you put off applying for universities for long enough, he’ll come and find you, and mentally send out a distress signal. Help me. For the love of God please save me.
You’re trapped between breathing and choking and you can’t see and you try to breathe through your nose but it’s not happening.
You’re just left there, broken and crying.
And the feeling won’t leave you for hours, even after you’ve stopped crying.
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