Frosty breeze

The wind picked up its pace and blew hard against my drenched form, but I'm too numb to feel anything. Was afraid to come here, scared to see the place where he left me that day of August.

But here I am, leaning on this tree once again, the only friend that lends me his shoulder, or in his case, his bark for me to cry on, without hurting himself in the process. I can feel myself growing tired each tear that escapes my eyes.

As always, it's raining when I come here. I don't know if it has something to do with my lack of luck, an omen of sadness and fear, or just a mere tease of destiny. Whichever it was, I don't care anymore. Let the rain wash away my tears, and hopefully, all of me.

I feel that I was betrayed, and the "what could have been" epiphany is truly driving me insane. It was hard enough to be left behind, but to be betrayed by my own flesh and blood? I couldn't even explain how bad it feels, how painful. I wanted to scream and thrash, pinpoint my mother and blame her for everything that has happened, to somehow find an outlet of my anger and grief.

But do you know what the most frustrating part is? It was the reality that I couldn't bring myself to despise her, she is after all, my mother, and she only wants what's best for me.

But for what price? This? She didn't bring me a life of peace, but a hell full of misery. She shoved me to a place where rain falls eternally. I don't even know what to think anymore.

"Blaze?" a voice called from behind the tree, the voice that I needed to hear. I turned around, rain water sprinkling from my hair. Then I saw him, a light in the dark. A warmth under these sheets of rain.

"Lance…" I squeaked, sobbing hard. My feet moved a few steps towards him. His face was a mask of horror and worry.

"What the? What are you doing here?! Are you crazy?! It's freezing!" he scolded me and took his jacket off, wrapping it around me. "I'll take you home now… you'll catch a fever here…" he said and placed his arms around me, trying to provide warmth.

Under his umbrella and his arms, I felt safe. I felt the homey ambiance he always gives off. I didn't want to pull away but I did, I needed to ask him something. He looked at me, confused, but still held the umbrella over me.

"Why did you agree with my mother?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"H-huh? w-what are you talking about?"

"Stop lying already! I know the truth… I know what really triggered you when you left eight years ago!" I snapped at him. The umbrella fell from his hands and he hung his head low when realization struck him. Silently, he reached for the umbrella, but I stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"Don't you have anything to say?" I asked, trying to make him explain.

"There's nothing to say…" he replied, looking anywhere but my eyes. I gripped his arm tighter.

"Eight years Lance… for eight years you made me believe a lie! You could have told me about what she said! You could have saved me from all this pain! Why?" the tears fall down as hard as the rain.

"I couldn't do anything… I don't have any choice… either way, whatever I choose, we'll both suffer… so I picked what I thought was best for us…" he said softly, touching my hand that was gripping his arm. My eyes met his mirror-like ones that are reflecting the pain he might be feeling.

"But for eight years? Why that long? Why wait for so long?" I asked him again. His eyes that never left mine, suddenly squinted close and turned away.

"Because I have come to like it there…" his words sent a shock to my hands that were gripping on his arms and I was forced to let go.

"That's you reason?" I whispered, trying to grasp the truth, he didn't answer.

"Come on now, I have to bring you home…" he said, ending the confrontation. Then he pulled me close and towed me towards his car. I didn't say anything, as if he's hauling a lifeless doll.

I just wanted to die at that moment.

---

How much reality's pain do I have to bear to prove that I can't take it anymore? That I need a break from all the crying?

How much problems can a person take? How many liters of tears can a person cry?

No matter how many times I ask these questions, I couldn't have an answer.

"Irish? Is there a problem?" Rico gently squeezed my hand as we walk near the beach. The sun was beginning to descend from the sky and hide beyond the velvet sky.

"Hey, you've been acting strange lately…" we stopped walking by now; he held my face up with his hands. Seeing him worry sadden me and I looked away, trying focus on the gentle waves lapping over my feet.

"I'm okay…" after hearing my response, he sighed.

"What's wrong with people these days… you and Lance are the same…" it was like he switched a button that sent me alive and I stared at him with curious eyes.

"The same?"

"Yeah… he seems to be depressed… zoning out for no reason… why?" he asked naively. I shook my head an asked another question.

"When did you meet him? How did you meet Lance?"

"Eh? Why did you ask this all of a sudden?" he asked, clearly confused.

"I-I'm just curious…" he looked at me as if trying to read my face, but gave up.

"Let's see…" he pondered, playing with my hair as he speaks. "I met him eight years ago, November I th ink?"

A month after he left, I noted.

"It was in Albuquerque when he met a car accident… I was an intern surgeon then and I helped in the operation…" my eyes went wide.

"Car accident?"

"Yeah… a car swerved from the road and crashed on him, it was snowing that day… the impact was serious and that poor guy suffered amnesia for eight years… he didn't managed to find any identification card on him that day, I guess he was just walking down the road near the airport… that's why I call him Joed, it was the name I gave him when he still can't remember a thing… he just got his memory back recently, then he entered Julliard afterwards… he's a student-teacher now after just a year, he's skills are too exceptional… when I asked him what really happened that day, he said he was just trying to figure out how to return to his hometown… he said he left his girl behind, and he wanted nothing more but to explain things…" by now, I was frozen, my mind on frenzy. Lance suffered amnesia. He lost his memory that's why he didn't manage to come back. He lied yet again. Why did he do that?

"Irish?" Rico's voice startled me and I came back to my senses. "Tell me the truth…" he continued.

"There is something wrong, isn't it?" he asked softly but with conviction, forcing me to say the truth. I couldn't do that of courses.

"My head is killing me… I wanted to go home…" I said instead of answering. He looked at me with anxious, hur t eyes and touched my cheek. He sighed and with a tired voice he replied.

"Okay…"