(play.)

it all begins and ends with a little girl and a little boy. and moments he wishes he could freeze in time, and forever immortalize.

{but he can't because it's too late}

but in between, there are promises made -and broken- and heartbreak, and times he wishes he could go back and change, and moments he wishes he could freeze forever.

{but what does forever really mean? because nothing -not even regret so painful it feels nothing more, or less, than hollow- can stop another day from coming}

he knows from experience. and god, doesn't he sometimes wish he didn't have those memories? he does have them though, he can't change that, and so he cherishes the ones he would have liked to stay in forevermore.

(pause.

now press rewind.)

like when he picks a daisy and approaches the tiny, dark-haired girl, and she smiles shyly, accepts, and proudly wears it behind her ear for all to see. he smiled back -brighter than the sun- held her hand, and locked eyes with her. blue to green and pale to dark.

{and somewhere in between it all blurred together}

that day was made up of warm sun, and dewy fresh grass, and long, thick dark hair, and a spattering of freckles on her nose, and daisies. and memories that last forever and never and always and sometimes.

because -yes- he can remember what happened, but -no- he couldn't freeze that moment in time, and hold the girl with the daisy in her hair in his arms forever, and keep the promises he whispered into her ear when he told her that he loved her. (and that's sort of what he's afraid of.)

(fast forward.

now press play.)

when they're 15 and think that they're invincible, he laughs at her iloveyou's and kisses, and doting, and takes a deep drag of his cigarette as he slings his large arm around her narrow shoulders, and dangles his legs off of the rocky cliff.

he brushes her off when she comes crying about -what he thinks are- petty things and simply tells her that she "should stop being such a bitch".

{he's regretted it ever since. because, why couldn't he see that she needed him for morethanthat}

they fuck and play around, and it never means anything to him -but to her it means the world and promises that he'll keep, and a forever and always mapped out in the stars.

{now he wishes she had been right}

because, really all he -thinks- he wants is skin on skin contact, not love, because he doesn't want to love her. he wants to own her, and he wants everyone know it.

{but he doesn't want to get attached because that's usually when everything spirals out of his control}

so, he locks himself away, builds up walls around his heart, so that he won't (can't) ever be hurt again.

(pause.

press fast forward.)

he can see -now- what was happening behind his back

{but it was really right before his eyes, he wants to scream}

it started with her bleaching her hair out. when she donned worn leather jackets and ripped denim, and when she stopped drinking cola and started drinking whisky. when she stopped wearing daisies in her hair, and started smoking cigarettes. when she lost everything that made her clove, and became everything that made him keep her.

{now he would trade anything –anything- to have her back}

(rewind.

now press play.)

he's fucking terrified, because he's not ready. not ready to be a father, not ready to keep his promises, not ready to leave (but, oh, he so wants to). she needs him, and he wants to be there, but when has he ever done what's right? when has he ever cared about anybody but himself?

{never- the voices in his head taunt him- never never never}

so, he does the cowardly thing to do, and runs. from his problems and her, and this thing inside of her –that's part him and part clove- that changes everything he's ever known. all he wants to do is escape for a day, or a month, or for forever. he runs to dark back-alley bars where liqueur lets him escape, and there are girls who he can take home with no strings attached, and he just lets himself escape it all. for once, he just lets go -holding on to nothing in particular- and forgets and moves on and lets days pass without a care in the world.

but every morning the phone in the motel rings and all he can her –in his ears and his head and most of all his heart- is her screaming at him that she "hates him" and that he lied to her, and wasn't there for her, and that he's a failure.

{just like his father was}

just like he promised he'd never turn out to be. and look where that got him. he's starting to think that he doesn't do well with keeping his promises (who is he kidding, he never –ever- keeps them).

(pause.

now don't rewind.)

but, like always, he ends up knocking on her door at 3 am, and when she opens the door; she's a mess. her hair is growing out, and it's more brown than bleached blond now, and she has blue-ish purple shadows under her bright –now they've faded- green eyes, and she's smaller, tinier –and less there- than she was before.

but, he thinks she's never looked prettier.

she's on the verge of tears, and she curses him brokenly, and yells, and screams at him to "just get out and never come back" and she tries to slam the door (on broken promises, and broken apologies, and everything he's ever stood for), but he's stronger, and he just grabs her and holds her in his arms and cries.

and he just lets himself cry for everything he lost –and in the process, gained- and holds her like he's never going to let go, and whispers promises that he'll try his damndest to keep in her ear, and tells her that he won't ever leave her and their baby again.

he tells her that he loves her.

{and he's starting to believe –for the first time- that maybe he actually does}

(fast forward.

now press play.)

and everything is working out, and falling into place (and maybe he wants to freeze time, but he also wants to make new memories with her to keep forever) and he's keeping the promises he made.

it's a fresh start and it's all a blur of fairy tales and happiness, and now her hair is all dark again, and she's stopped wearing leather, and smoking and drinking, and he's quit all his bad habits –except staying with her- is that maybe a good habit? she's started wearing daisies in her hair once more, and drinking cola with breakfast, and believing in him again.

he's started keeping his promises, and holding her hand, and being there for her.

but fate has other plans (and he should have known that something had to go wrong) because they're driving down an icy road one night, and the car spins out of his control and they're smash smash smashing and the glass is shattering, and there are bloody shards lying on the floor.

the lights are flashing and people are screaming and blood is filling his eyesight, but all he can really see and hear and know is her, and him, and keeping promises and the baby. everything becomes a blur, and then all he knows is darkness.

{what happened to keeping her safe?}

(pause.

now don't forget.)

white. bright. flashing. lights. waking up and falling under, and losing himself in sterilized sheets in an isolated room (that has no windows, and all he wants to see is the sun and her face) and nobody tells him what happened to her, and it scares the crap out of him.

drugs make everything better for a little while, and then he remembers everything and it's hell on earth (except he's not on fire –though he's burning up into the nothingness that makes up everything he is, and everything he's becoming), and all that he can think coherently is 'issheokay?'

and after 6 days, 17 hours, 45 minutes, and 13 seconds they let him out of the tiny, white room (but who's keeping count?).

she's fading into the pillow behind her head, and for once, her dark hair makes her look more dead than alive, and her skin is pale and her hand is cold, and at first glance, she appears dead.

he stays beside her for 4 days, 2 hours, 57 minutes, and 7 seconds (this time, he's keeping count) before she wakes up.

she screams and flails, and all he knows is that she loses the baby, and he loses her somewhere along the line.

(don't lose her.

now press play.)

he tries to help her, to be there for her, but she's falling into a deep dark abyss, and he's not sure how long she –and he- can keep holding on.

because, shush! he's never been one to accept any help, and he doesn't really know how to offer it either. so he burns up, bit by bit, and lets her catch fire too, because if he burns, she burns with him (and vice versa).

he knows that clove needs help, desperately, but he doesn't want to admit that he isn't able to help her on his own (and, doesn't she realize that she's not the only one who lost a piece of themselves when that car slipped out of his control).

and somewhere in between those passing days he thinks she hates him, because he was the one driving the car, and he was the one who promised to keep them all safe, and shouldn't he have learned a long time ago that he can't keep his promises (even when he wants to)?

she's depressed and angry at everything and anything, and everything just eats away at her –like she's not eating anything- and she knows she needs his help, she begs him to help her. but he just turns away hollowly and lets a tear slip from his –once- icy eyes, because he can't.

he's dealing with his own demons, so how could he possibly help her with hers? he starts drinking again, and he pops pills like they're candy and all he wants is to go back to the time when they were happy and everything was just fine, and she wasn't wasting away in his arms, and he didn't want to forget.

but, nothing –not even love so fierce it could move mountains, and bring the moon down from the sky- can stop another day from coming.

(pause.

press fast forward.)

and the days they come, because now it's been a year. and nothing has changed. he still relies on drinks and drugs that bring him to other places where he can control their fate. she shrinks and fades more and more into nothingness, so far out of reach that neither are sure if she can come back.

(would either even bother trying to bring her back anymore?).

and, too soon, it's been 2 years and he's not quite sure where the time went, and, does he really want to know? he so desperately wants to turn his (and her) life around, but what to you do when you've run out of options?

and what do you do when the only thing you know is to drink and forget and float on dark angel clouds deep down below in the fiery pits of hell?

(play.

fight it for her.)

he's jolted back into reality when she's hospitalized with depression and an eating disorder. he know better, he knows that really she just doesn't care anymore. she's not worried about not being good enough, she started believing it a long time knows because he doesn't care either. and then he's being hospitalized for being depressed, and for drinking and drugging himself up to forget. and he thinks, what's wrong with not wanting to remember the pain?

it's supposed to be rehab, but he's not getting any better.

they tell him that it's a process, that you never fully heal. he tells them that they're liars, he's not stupid, he'll heal for her (but deep down even he knows that he's the real liar). he visits her once a week, and she's getting better without him, and sooner than he knows, he's being left behind because she's "better" and he knows he's the awful one, he just didn't want to accept what had already slapped him in the face and knocked him down.

he stands back up. again and again and again. he's starting to believe in himself and a future he once didn't think he'd have.

he's started caring, and she visits him every day. the doctors are right, it is a process, and he's partly healed. there's some glue holding his heart together. her, it's always clove.

(pause

now press fast forward.)

he's home. home is where the heart is. he's with her, and he's better(ish) too. he's trying to really live. care and think and believe, instead of drink and drug and forget.

and nothing stops another day from coming and for the first time; he thinks he doesn't mind. because, he gets to spend every moment of every day with her. and, that's all that really matters.

{she's all that really matters to him}