Find You in the Dark

eyes and I saw the hope there. “But, Clay. I can't keep doing this. I'm so tired of worrying about you. Of going to sleep scared that you will do something to yourself. You're killing me.” The words wrung out of me and I could feel my exhaustion.
    Clay pulled me closer until our chests were touching and I had to look up to see him. He reached down and pushed the bangs off of my face. I melted as his fingers glided over my skin. “I will never hurt you like that. As long as we're together, I have something to fight for.” He whispered.
    I wanted to yell at him that he had hurt me like that a million times already. That he hadn't fought for us, or himself, despite the fact that I gave him all the love that I had. But he made me weak. I hated myself for not being able to verbalize the thoughts and doubts that swam through my head. Why couldn't I just say how I felt? Why did I allow myself to get sucked under by him time and time again?
    “I love you. You are my life.” He placed my hand over his heart. I could feel it beating erratically beneath my palm. “Feel that? It's yours. For now and always!” He said emphatically before wrapping his arms around me.
    He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my shoulder as we held each other. “I love you.” He whispered again before burying his face into my neck. I let him hold me for awhile before I pulled away. He looked at me with confusion as I stepped back, trying to give myself some space.
    “Clay. I love you too...” I started but he cut me off. “And that's all that matters! We love each other! That's all we need!” He seemed so sure. But then again, he always had. But this time, I wasn't. “No, Clay. That's not all we need. You need help!” I told him.
    I watched as Clay's face darkened. “Not this again. We've talked about it. You are everything! If we're together, I'm fine!” I held up my hand to stop him. “This is a lot to take in. I need time. I need to think. Please, just stop.” I begged him, backing up even further. I hadn't bothered to argue with his ridiculous statement. I just needed to halt this conversation before I caved completely.
    Clay came toward me again, looking broken. “Maggie, I was wrong! Please, don't leave me!” He cried, reaching for my hand again. I moved away from his grasp. “I have to go.” I said and turned around to leave.
    I started to run through the trees. I didn't get far before Clay's hands grabbed me from behind. I tripped as he pulled me to a stop. He crushed his chest against my back and pressed his face to my neck. “I can't lose you again! I'll do anything! Just don't walk away from me!” He pleaded. I could feel his body shaking as he gripped me. His hot tears burned my flesh as they slid down my neck. I reached down and tried to unwrap his arms from around my middle. “Then let me leave. Just give me time to think. I can't do that when we're together.” I urged, not turning around to look at him. I knew that if I saw his grief stricken face I would be a goner. And I needed to decide whether a life with him was what I wanted. If a life without him was something I could stand.
    Clay was quiet for a few minutes. I could feel the ragged draw of his breaths against my back, the warmth of his tears on my shoulder as he pressed against me like his life depended on it. Then without another word, he moved his arms and I felt the cold air of our separation as he moved away from me. Letting me go.

    I was shaken from my time with Clay. I went home practically in tears and more confused than ever. My mind was churning and I struggled against the need to run straight back to him. I hadn't been lying when I said I needed time. But something told me that time wasn't going to solve anything.
    How did I reconcile myself with the fact that I had just walked away from the love of my life? Particularly when he needed me most. What kind of person did that make me? I had acted on a desperate sort of self- preservation when I had left him standing alone in the woods. I was scared and mixed up. But I couldn't think past the fact that he loved me and wanted us to be together.
    Why couldn't that be enough?
    I was a complicated mixture of scared and angry. I felt like punching the wall or pulling my hair out. It was unfortunate for my mother that she happened to walk into my room in the midst of my very real freak out.
    I sat at my desk, twirling my chair in circles, wishing I could grow a pair of wings and leap out of my