E P I G R A P H

❝I've spent much too long in the space
between holding on and
letting go.❞

☾ thirty four | nothingness ☽

IT IS THE day after meeting Santana; in other words, it is Friday. According to the brief text conversation I had with Holt, it turns out that he is still picking me up at eight and it is across town, so we'll probably arrive around eight-thirty.

I was planning on spending today doing nothing once I got home from school, I was going to tidy my room, do some homework which is shocking, I know. And then, around seven-thirty, I'd throw on something decent and head out the door.

But instead, I stayed up all night, watching Netflix in the lounge with Max and then at approximately four in the morning, I headed to bed and didn't wake up until one in the afternoon, which wasn't pleasant, I woke up feeling uncoordinated and five times more exhausted than usual. I then briefly tidied my room, which to me, means shoving all my clothes in my closet and kicking everything else under my bed.

Which brings me to now, tying my shoelaces as I am about to head out the door. Esme informed me that she will be picking me up at five, by borrowing her mom's car for the time being, and we're going somewhere, she shouldn't tell me where, but she said that she will return me home at seven, so I have plenty of time to get ready.

Considering it has been a while since we have properly hung out and I had nothing else to do, I decided going out would be a great idea.

I threw on some comfortable attire, consisting of jeans and a hoodie, tying my hair up into a bun and after receiving a text from Esme announcing her arrival, I then sprinted down the stairs, informing my dad that I'll be home later before exiting via the front door and entering Esme's—well technically her mothers—car.

"Hey!" she greeted me as I hopped in the passenger seat.

I smiled at her, shivering as my body adjusted from the plummeting temperatures outside versus the toasty heat in her car.

"Hi," I greeted her back, "so, where are we going. . .and why are there two balloons in the back of your car?" I asked suspiciously as I eyed the two white star-shaped helium balloons floating around in the back seat.

He grinned mischievously, "You'll see."

I rolled my eyes, "You're so weird."

She smacked me with the back of her hand, earning a loud squeal from me, whilst she used her free hand to drive, "Hey, you've been going through a lot lately and it has been a while since we've spent genuine time together, so I'm being a good best friend and helping you."

"Helping me how?"

She shrugged, "You'll find out in approximately thirty-two minutes." Esme giggled as she looked at her GPS to see the specific time.

Using that as a hint, I looked at it in hopes of finding out where we were going. I spotted the location at the top; it was the beach, the one of which the pier lives—the one Holt took me too for the fair. Esme hates the beach, so why on earth are we going there?

The rest of the drive was accompanied by mine and Esme's not so lovely singing, as we belted our hearts out, laughing at each other and playing immature little games, but as the drive closely came to an end, I couldn't help but feel bad.

We've both been so busy with our own lives—me with Holt, my arm, dad being back, adjusting to having a new family and Esme with her dad having a heart attack—that we have almost zero time for each other.

Yeah, we still call every few nights and we sit together every break, but compared to how it used to be, her staying every two nights and practically living at my house (or vice versa) to barely seeing her at all unless it was in school, it kind of breaks my heart.

It worries me. What if once we finish school she goes off to college, gets a job and some boyfriend and completely forgets about me?

No, she'd never do that. No real friend would. And Esme is real.

It sucks how sometimes we as humans get so easily distracted, so trapped in the continuous whirlwind that is life, that we forget about those closest to us. We spend our whole lives trying to please them, just to dismiss them when we get older.

I'm just glad that we're so close, otherwise, most friends would have lost interest, but not her. She always sticks around, supports me and encourages me to do what makes me happy. If friend soulmates do exist, I know she'd be mine.

I used to be jealous of her, actually. When we first met I thought she was this amazingly beautiful cheerleader—which she is—but I used to compare myself to her. She is charming without trying, naturally pretty, I mean she has red hair for goodness sake, pale skin and pretty eyes, she is the complete opposite of me in the looks department.

She's tall and extremely curvaceous, it's a shame she hasn't found someone to tie the knot with yet. But, honestly, it's fine. We're—she's only seventeen, we have all our lives to find love, we should be enjoying the present, whilst we're still in high school and we can make stupid mistakes, do bad things, once schools over, so is everything else.

I always used to despise school. I've never been the smartest and my attention span equals zero, my mind is constantly buffering like a slow YouTube video and I do not think I have done homework more than twice this year, but I'll miss having a routine, seeing everyone in the same place, I'll miss home.

I don't know where college will take me yet. It could be London, it could be New Zealand, or it could be California, regardless I'll be on my own. I don't know where Holt is going, Esme has always planned to go to Princeton, but that still leaves me alone, in a dark corner with no guidance.

"What're you thinking about?" Esme asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I stared out the window, watching as the forest trees blurred to palm trees and the scent of pine turned into saltwater.

"College." I told her honestly, "I don't have a single thing figured out, Es. I feel so unsure of everything right now."

She pouted, keeping her eyes on the road, "It'll all be fine!" Esme yelled as though what I had just said was completely ridiculous, "While I am in New Jersey studying neuroscience, you could be in California, painting canvases and spending your free time walking down Rodeo drive and perving at hot guys on the beach."

I snorted. Man, she makes it sound so easy, like a story she had written.

I'll be lucky if I get into any art-related schools, nor California Arts. I'll admit, I have talent, but I don't know if I have enough to actually make a future out of this. Who knows if I'll be walking down Rodeo drive or serving coffees at the local Starbucks.

What if I don't even go to college?

Maybe I should talk to dad about it sometime, I'm sure he'd have some connections or advice, at least.

And yes, Esme Grace, the girl with a five-point zero GPA, perfect attendance and long experience in cheerleading, is going to become a neurosurgeon. It's strange and if someone were to view people based on modern-day stereotypes, they'd assume the red-headed girl with the short skirt wouldn't be studying to become a brain surgeon.

But, yes. She has wanted to do it forever and I know she'll do great. She's saved my life more times than I can count.

"Who said anything about CalArts?"

Esme shrugged, "You mentioned it one time, I think." she muttered, "I don't know, but wherever you end up, you'll succeed. You're Halo-mother-effing-Storm, okay?"

I laughed, nodding, "Yeah, okay." I rolled my eyes.

Eventually, we pulled up aside the beach, down slightly from the pier, the only barrier between our car and the beach being a sidewalk and boarder of boulders.

"You have reached your final destination." the GPS sounded, whilst Esme mimicked it in a posh accent making me chuckle.

We exited the car at the same time, slamming the doors shut before walking to the edge of the path and climbing down each rock, my foot almost slipping through the cracks multiple times before I reached the last rock and leaped off, landing on the sand which drowned my shoes.

I cringed as my sock rubbed against the sand beneath it in my shoe. One of the reasons Esme hates the beach.

Without a second thought, I bent down, untying my shoes before yanking them off, followed by my socks. I stuffed my socks into my shoes, holding them in my hands as I turned around, watching as Esme struggled to properly get down from the rocks due to the fact she was holding two balloons, but when she did, she—like me—took her shoes off immediately, her face showing pure disgust as she did so.

"Es, why did you bring me to your least favorite place?" I questioned as she walked over to me.

"Because I know that it's your favorite place," she pointed out, "and it'll just make what we're about to do all more Pinterest-esque."

I snorted, "Interesting."

She was correct, it is my favorite place, despite rarely coming here. Sand is a pain in the ass, but the feel of the silky sand between my toes, the sound of waves delving into each other, the way each one fringes, the ocean blue fading into white, it's purely magical.

There is nothing more wonderful than the ocean, the life it contains and the influence it has on one's mind.

When I was a child, I used to get overwhelmed easily, even when nothing was wrong. I would stress about things that hadn't happened yet and create situations in my head that were not existent to the present. Though, all of that stemmed from that one booger eating child in the third grade that would make fun of me each day just because I was different from all the other girls in my class.

He'd say I wasn't white and that's strange, he'd compare my hair to noodles and everyone would laugh. So, on days—which were most—my mom would drive me to the beach, this specific one, and we'd sit down just before the shoreline, our legs out stretched enough so that when the water rushed in, it'd brush our feet but it wouldn't go past our ankles.

But then she left and so did my best friend.

And for that imbecile of a boy, I cut a chunk off his hair and then everyone started being mean to him. It was karmic, but I felt guilty, so I befriend him and it turns out that his parents were racist, hence his distaste towards me.

He moved though. But the point is that I loved it here and god, I miss it.

I followed in pursuit of Esme as she walked towards the shoreline of the beach, where we then stopped, tossing our shoes a meter back before she handed me a marker and we sat down, her legs crossed whilst I pulled my knees to my chest.

"What is this for?" I asked in confusion as I held the balloon in one hand and the pen in the other.

She grinned, pulling another marker out of her back pocket, "We're both going to write down on the balloon, everything we want to let go of and then. . ." she paused, gesturing to the sky above us, "we'll let go of it."

I smiled warmly. The idea was meaningful and something I never personally would have thought of and despite it being metaphorical, it felt good. Like I was about to quite literally let go of everything downing me.

"Okay," I nodded, "let's do it."

I didn't waste another moment before pulling the lid off and pressing the tip to the squishy metallic colored balloon.

When she first mentioned the idea, I didn't know if I'd have much to write, but it seemed as though my hand had other ideas as I began writing without thinking at all.

Everest.

Guilt.

Mom.

Zayden.

The past.

It was brief, but all five of those things were constant weights on my life. I always told myself that I have to keep loving mom, I have to forgive her because she is family, and family should always be forgiven, but that is far from true.

Family—like friends—lie, they betray and hurt, they wreck and break. And not everyone deserves to be forgiven, which is exactly why I am allowing myself to let go and forget. Not having forgiveness does not mean you despise the person, it means that their actions were not worth someone's forgiveness, but it is okay to move on and accept.

Yes, she cheated. Yes, she left, but it's over with and I can't do a single thing to change it and seeing as Aubrey makes dad so happy, I have come to the conclusion that they weren't meant for each other, but without her cheating, he would have never met the woman he talks so freely and proudly about.

Zayden. He made me think that I was incapable of love, that I was useless and worth nothing more than my popularity and status with someone. He hurt me and scared me, but even when his hands were harshly encircled around my wrists, or when he was threatening me with suicide, I knew he was hurting, so damn bad.

And the hurt is always the leading reason for someone's actions. It is not simply because one is mean for fun, or jealous. It's because they don't have a safe home to go to, they don't have food on the table or a loving parental figure. In Zayden's situation, he doesn't have a proper motherly figure to guide him, he is the only permanent roll in his sister's life and I tried to be there for him, but after almost two years, I realized I could no longer be that person.

I wanted to be, so desperately, but I can't offer more than a friend. I can't offer my love or affection, we don't click and we aren't right by any means.

So, I am letting him go. Our relationship go. He is the ex I cannot get rid of, he was a huge part of my life for some time and now I am letting go because hurtful actions, though they aren't the receiver's fault, aren't acceptable.

I hurt, I ache and sometimes—very rarely— I cry. But I do not result in hurting others in hopes of transferring my pain onto another.

He has Alix now, and though she is one spiteful bitch, maybe their spite will even each other out.

And Everest, everyone knows how I felt about that boy. I thought he was the world, I thought he would give me the world one day, but instead, he unmeaningfully took it away from me and though I was young and naïve, he is gone now and I need to stop living my life by his accord.

Which leads me to the next. Guilt. He is the reason I ache when I am with Holt. It sounds so small and stupid, but not every fifteen-year-old loses their high school boyfriend as of two years. His absence left me with nothing but a sickening sense of guilt. But guilt no more, he is gone and so are all the feelings I endured from his presence.

And last of all. The past. The past sums up everything, every point written down on the helium balloon and all the other little things too, like the time my brother almost went to jail, the time dad was temporarily gone from my life, the time Santana was all over the dude I am continuously thinking about.

Everything. It is all dismissed now because that is what made me who I am.

And with the past, I am letting go of the old Halo. She was broken, sad, insecure and now I am learning. Learning to love myself, learning to fix myself other than allowing someone else to fix me.

No one can pick up my shattered pieces and glue them back together because only I know how they fit back together, only I know where each piece remains. And though the majority of them are drowning in the ocean along with Ever's ashes, I can find new pieces to replace what was once there.

"Are you finished?" Esme asked, her voice bring me out of my deepest thoughts.

I nodded, my eyes going over my bold writing, "Yeah, I am."

She nodded, not prying and keeping her eyes trained on her own balloon. Out of respect, I didn't look at hers either, her demons are her demons.

"Ready?" she asked and I nodded once again, "three. . .two. . .and one."

On her count, we both let go of the string, the star-shaped balloons rising straight up into the air, lifting into the peached colored sunset until it became a mere speck in the sky, exiting our atmosphere and deteriorating into shingles of nothingness.

It felt good. It was that satisfying feeling you get when you throw up after feeling nauseous for so long, or when you hold your breath for a while and then let go.

"How do you feel?"

I shrugged, "I feel. . .relieved."

She nodded, resting her head on my shoulder, "Me too." she sighed, "We both needed this, Hals. You needed this."

I nodded, a faint smile present on my cold lips, "I know, thank you. For doing all of this."

Esme nudged me, "Anytime."

I've never been one to believe in consequences nor signs from the universe, but in this moment, sitting next to my best friend after doing such an encouraging yet consuming activity, the sun began to set and the yellowness of the rays shone on me, enlightening my bitter skin, making me feel warm.

It felt like a sign. As if to say, things will get better now.

And for the first time in so long, I feel happy. I feel okay. And sometimes it feels good to just be okay.

***

Hey everyone! 🤍

Here's an update, I hope you liked it. This chapter was to symbolise Halo moving on and changing, letting go and allowing herself to feel without guilt, I hope I portrayed that okay :))

Anyways, please comment, vote and follow me. I'd also loved to know what you think about Esme as a character.

See you next time,
I love you.