"Broken people don't hide from their monsters. Broken people let themselves be eaten."
― Francesca Zappia

chapter 39

"Just tell me how you feel."

"I don't want to talk about it," Bar said for what felt like the thirtieth time in the last week as Law followed him from his kitchen and to the living room, plopping down on the couch--- unable to sit in his favorite chair where Culpa was curled up.

That's where Clementine always used to sit.

He can't stay too long in the kitchen either, imagining Clementine's laugh and the smell of her hot chocolate in the morning always wanted to choke sobs out of him.

The guest bedroom can't be entered, all her stuff is in there and it smells like vanilla and ambrosia.

His balcony was off-limits, the phantom sound of her typing echoed from the railing.

He could barely go in his bedroom, where they shared their first unintoxicated kiss, where they were when he asked her out, where they first made love, where they spent hours holding each other and smiling.

His whole apartment turned his brain into a war zone— thoughts fighting against one another.

His whole body was aching without her.

"That's been your answer every time I have asked you that," The nerd grumbled, sitting in one of the bean bags and watching his best friend nonchalantly pull open a book.

The brute tried not to let sorrow leak out of him but he couldn't stop it.

If heartbreak were an expression, Bar could wear it well.

"I thought that you would've gotten the hint that way," Bar said, eyes scanning the book's page but not reading.

Law sighed, "Just tell me if you're okay."

"I'm alive, that's okay enough."

"And?"

"And today," Bar said, "I'm wearing a nice fucking shade of exhaustion under my eyes."

More like for the last week Bar had gotten a whole two hours of sleep each night and had purplish bags under his dark eyes.

No one told him heartbreak would leave his arms empty, head heavy, and nights without sleep.

But maybe that's not something anyone can warn someone else about.

Maybe heartbreak is a solitude experience.

"Come on, man." Law finally growled out, patience wearing thin. "We've been through enough shit together, you don't have to pretend you're fine. You're not fine."

"You don't think I know that?" Bar snapped, fingers digging into the books spine. I know I'm not 'fine'. Fuck, I know that."

"Then why are you pretending to be--"

"Because," Bar snarled out. "If I don't, I'll break, okay? I'll break! Every goddamn thing just reminds me of her and--"

The brute cut himself off, eyes going over to Law when the nerd let out a dark groan.

Yeah, get in line, buddy, Bar thought bitterly. I'm fed up with myself, too.

"It's okay to break, I'll help put you back together," Law reassured.

Oh, there's no going back from that kind of breaking.

Bar paused, "I think... if I let myself feel this-- if I let myself break, I won't want to come back together. That I won't even be able to."

How can he be whole without Clementine?

How can he when he still can't believe that she's not his anymore?

How?

If the little goddess wasn't his everything, Bar would be willing to give it all up for her.

"Yes, you will," Law sounded completely sure of himself. "You'll be okay, eventually. You'll get OJ back too, man, I know you will. People just don't go from how you guys look at each other to strangers. That just doesn't happen."

But it does. It happens all the time.

It happened to them.

Bar met eyes with Law, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Ugh!" Law shouts, standing. "Just tell me how you feel!"

"No!"

"Tell me, let it out!" The nerd continued to push and Bar knew that his best friend was right in pushing him, he needed to let all that sadness escape from his mind, but he didn't want to.

That sadness-- it was all that he had left of her.

"You need to talk about it!"

He needs to breathe, think, and blink.

Breaking, for the second time, isn't on the list.

"Fuck you," Bar spit out. "Leave me alone, dipshit."

Bar knew that no matter how mean he was to the need that he wouldn't leave.

"I'll get Gus," Law threatened. "And then we'll both be annoying until you just fucking tell us. Calling you daddy and everything!"

Why was he best friends with someone who threatens him with the word daddy?

Hell if he could figure that one out.

"You want to know?" Bar stood too, book dropping, and hands in his hair. "You want to know how I feel, huh? You want to know if I want to die or whatever, if I'm okay? I'm not! I don't want to be. I don't what to be without her, okay!"

"That's not all, tell me how you feel, damnit!"

"I feel so fucking see through!" Bar yells, tears in his eyes. "Like a ghost yelling at the top of his lungs for anyone— anyone at all just to hear him. But no, no, they can't! They're deaf and he's dead; no one listens to the dead boy. No one listens when someone else breaks. He reaches out, he tries to touch something, anything! But... but he can't feel anything. Numb. Paralyzed. What's going on? Why can't he hold onto anything? Why is it all slipping from his fingers? Why is everyone leaving? Can't they hear him, can't they hear him begging? Begging to please, no! Please, don't leave me. Don't leave me all alone! Begging and begging and begging not to be left again. But oh, they're deaf, shouldn't he fucking remember that? He's all alone. All fucking alone, again. Empty."

Bar wiped some of his tears but they just kept coming.

"But there's so much going on inside of him, it's overwhelming, he's bubbling and overflowing and crying and it's going everywhere and he wants to stop it but can't stop it and he's going one hundred miles an hour in a car and there's no break and there's nothing around to hit and he wants to hit something but he can't. He wants to crash but crashing means dying and death doesn't want him either. He wants to feel again but that seems so impossible, so far from his grasp. He wants something tangible. He wants something he can drop into his drowned thoughts and it'll float, he wants something he can trust. He doesn't trust herself. And I'm him. That's me. That's me but I don't want it to be. Can't I be someone else and can't that someone be me? Please? Please?"

Bar broke down into sobs, his large body shaking as all the anger that was in the air minutes before dissipated and he fell onto the couch, injuries protesting the movement, knees buckling from under him.

"I can't do this," The brute was shaking with the force of his cries, chest rapidly rising and falling. "I can't do this without her."

Why did Clementine have to leave him?

Law didn't say anything, he just sat next to his best friend and held Bar, he just held him until the brute could breathe again.

"I know you don't want to," Law said. "But you can't get through this. You can get through this, and you can get her back, you just have to give it time."

"I don't want to give it time."

"I know."

"Can you just... hang out for the rest of the day?" Bar asks, standing up only to sit on the floor again to pet Culpa.

"Yeah, man."

Law came over to pet the cat too and, for once, Culpa let him.

Miracles can happen, Bar thought bitterly.

He just doesn't know if another miracle will be him getting back together with the little goddess or not.