Losing Hope

frustrated. I’m pissed that Daniel thinks my life is so simple. I’m pissed that Breckin still thinks I should just apologize to her, like that would make it all okay. I’m pissed that I’m still writing to Les even though she’s dead.. She can’t read it. She’ll never read it. I’m just putting all the shit I’m living through down on paper for no reason other than the fact that there isn’t a single goddamned person in the world right now that I can talk to.
    I lie down, then get pissed again and punch my bed because my damn pillow is all the way across the room. I stand up and walk to the pillow, snatching it up. I look down at the notebook beneath it, spread open on the floor.
    The pillow falls out of my hand.
    My knees fall to the floor.
    My hands clench the notebook that has flipped open to the very last page.
    I frantically flip through the pages covered in Les’s handwriting until I find where the words begin. As soon as I see the first words written on top of the page, my heart comes to a screeching halt.
    Dear Holder,
    If you’re reading this, I’m so, so sor
    I slam the notebook shut and throw it across the room.
    She wrote me a letter?
    A fucking suicide letter?
    I can’t breathe. Oh, God, I can’t breathe. I pull myself up and jerk open my window, then stick my head out. I take a deep breath and it’s not enough air. There isn’t enough air and I can’t breathe. I shut the window and run to my bedroom door. I swing it open and rush down the stairs, taking them several at a time. I pass by my mother and her eyes grow wide, seeing me in such a hurry.
    “Holder, it’s midnight! Where are—”
    “Running!” I yell, then slam the front door behind me.
    And that’s what I do. I run. I run straight to Sky’s house because she’s the only thing in the world that can help me breathe again.

Chapter Thirty-three
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    These past few weeks of doing everything in my power to avoid her have taken every ounce of my strength and I can’t do it anymore. I thought by staying away from her I was being strong, but not being near her is making me weaker than I’ve ever been. I know I shouldn’t be here and I know she doesn’t want me here but I have to see her. I have to hear her, I have to touch her, I have to feel her against me because that weekend I spent with her was the only time since I walked away from her thirteen years ago that I actually looked forward .
    I’ve never looked forward before. I’ve always looked back. I think about the past way too much and I think about what I should have done and everything I did wrong and I’ve never once looked forward in my life. Being with her had me thinking about tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that and next year and forever. I need that right now because if I don’t get to hold her one more time . . . I’m scared I’ll look back again and the past will completely swallow me up.
    I grab the windowsill and close my eyes. I inhale several times in an attempt to calm my pulse and the trembling going on with my hands right now.
    I hate that she always leaves her window unlocked. I push it up and slide the curtains back, then climb inside. I contemplate saying something so she’ll know I’m in her room, but I also don’t want to scare her if she’s asleep.
    I turn and close the window and walk to her bed, then slowly ease myself down. She’s facing the other way, so I lift the covers and scoot in beside her. Her posture immediately stiffens and she pulls her hands up to her face. I know she’s awake and I know she knows it’s me climbing into her bed, but the fact that it terrifies her completely breaks me.
    She’s scared of me. I didn’t expect fear to be a reaction from her at all. Anger, yes. I’d so much rather her be angry at me right now than scared.
    She’s not telling me to leave yet and I don’t think I could even if she asked me to. I have to feel her in my arms, so I move closer to her and slide my arm under her pillow. I wrap my other arm around her and slide my fingers into hers, then bury my face into her neck. Her scent and her skin and the feel of her heartbeat against our hands is exactly what I need, more tonight than ever before I just need to know that I’m not alone, even if she doesn’t have a clue how much allowing me to hold her is helping.
    I kiss her softly on the side of her head and pull her closer. I don’t deserve to be back in her bed or in her life after all I’ve put her