Cold

The water in the tub was cold. That was ok; Mellissa couldn’t feel it by then. She sighed. Draping her arm over the edge of the bathtub she rested her cheek skin against skin.

Empty. That is what she felt. The loss of a loved one is always difficult, but for Mellissa it was different. She’d held one person close in her heart, and now they were no longer there. It was a breakup but not a conventional or easy one.

Selfishly, she only mourned for the hole in her own heart. She didn’t want to be alone, soaking in an ice cold bath meant to relax. She’d lost all track of time, but thought two hours must have passed. Her mother would warn her against a cold, but Mellissa didn’t much mind. Her heart was broken, smashed into a million pieces. She sighed again and fought tears.

Slipping her hand back into the tub, she sunk lower and lower until the water enveloped her entirely. She wanted to breathe, to break through the surface again instantly, but refused. Instead she held her breath and thought. Thought of what had been, of what was, and of what could be.

What had been was the past. She could not go back and change things, no matter how much she wanted to. It was a cruel fact of life. What was, simply was. She was where she was right then in that moment. Really, wasn’t that what mattered most? Which left her with the future, her future. She’d often heard the expression that every day was the first day of the rest of your life. She wondered if that really was the truth? Did your past not follow you? What haunts you today will surly still haunt you tomorrow, will it not?

Some would say to learn from the past and never make the same mistake twice. She supposed that made sense, though it was a bit pitiless. She resigned herself that no matter what, no matter how fast you ran, you could not outrun your past. But should you be able to, or even want to? The past is what made you you after all. It shaped you, sometimes gently with love, sometime roughly with contempt, into the person you looked at in the mirror.

A question remained: Did she like who she was? Did she desire to let the person she was continue in existence? She was left with one simple alternative: Either stay under or rise up. Was she worth it? Was her life worth it?    

She opened her eyes and looked up through the wavy glass covering her. Her bathroom lights shined down on her steadily. In her mind she breathed almost in a resigned way. I suppose, she thought and rolled her eyes. In a rush she sat up straight, gasping a long awaited breath. 

 

*Note: Sorry for the late post. My internet was out until about 1 am this morning (Boo!). Hopefully it wont happen again! 

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