Creative Writing.

Der er ikke taget højde for noget grammatisk i dette indlæg overhoved - det er en hurtigskrevet tekst :)

It is your bed and you’ll have to lie in it

Or do I? Is it not possible that there is something in our lives that is out of our hands?

I remember the days where she walked around all covered in pink clouds with the biggest smile she had ever experienced on her face. Nothing could bring her down. Not even the people in school who bullied her - Nothing. He was the reason that she in the morning could get out of bed and face the people who did not understand her. The people who sentenced without knowing what she had to offer. He was the one person that looked behind the skin. Saw her for what she was and saw her needs.
They would only see each other every second week, but when she then saw him there was no doubt about how she felt. The way her heartbeat already rose when the 45 minutes long bus drive to his hometown started was a clear sign that she had found that special someone all people search for. He was the person with who silence was not a problem. The two of them could lay side by side not saying one word without it being awkward in any way.

When she for the first time met his family she was nervous like never before. The legs that normally did not shake at any occasion now shook like they were standing on top of a local earthquake. Her voice that in the weekdays did not bow for anyone was now almost inaudible. The stomach that usually needed at least 3 plates of food to kill the feeling of hunger now only needed one slice of pizza with kebab and lettuce. When she got out of the bus they stood there waiting. She did not know what to do with her shaky legs and her bumping heart, but as soon as she let her hand slip into his all of the nervousness disappeared. They quickly became her second family. They were caring and kind and she just felt like she belonged.

But nothing lasts. After six months of happiness something started to change in their relationship. Suddenly the daily message only appeared every second day. The compliments did not come as often as they used to and the bumping feeling she used to get when he kissed her was not as overwhelming as it used to be. She started worrying: “What have I done now?”, “is it me?” etc. On her father’s birthday she sent him a thrilling message - the message to which you do not want to see the respond. “What is happening to us?” she asked. She had expected everything but the answer she got:

“I just cannot cope with you in the moment…”

…

Her heart stopped. All the things they had been doing together seemed to be flying before her eyes making a whole movie. The stability that she had gone so used to was now starting to disappear. In her ears she could hear her blood hasting through her veins. Like in all of the silly love movies the phone fell out of her hands while she with empty eyes searched the thin air in front of her. She tried calling him, but he explained to her with words that tore her heart into pieces that he did not wish to have that kind of conversation with her.

After this message and lots of hours spent on crying the sadness that filled her chest was replaced with the feeling of anger. She could not in any way understand how he after so many months could throw everything away just like that. Therefor she ended it in the most childish way - a text message.

The following time she worked very hard on forgetting everything that she ever felt during the relationship. She searched for a way to heal the broken heart that she carried around locked up in her heavy chest. After some time she thought she had completed that mission, but now every year on her father’s birthday she remembers. Remember the smiles, the laughs, the fights, the kisses - the feeling of being loved.

This relationship made it impossible for me to enter into another relationship ever since. The feeling of being deselected in that way hit me harder than I thought.
Now only one question runs through my mind: is it my bed?  And if so - do I have to lie in it?