On the Mountain

by Riley Hart

Sometimes it was scary how easy it was to fake it, to pretend you were happy and life was great. Most people didn’t take the time to look, not really, because if they did, they would see most of us were barely hanging on.

He looks as lonely as I feel. Maybe lonelier.

a blemish on the pristine image they tried to create here.

Who would miss me if I was gone? Why did it matter if I took care of myself when there was nothing grounding me to this life?

The single word came out broken, and suddenly, I hated that I didn’t use my voice enough for it to sound right, hated that the rage festering inside me made it hard to get out.

“I understand it…why you like it out here. Somehow the seclusion and quiet helps silence the voices in my head.”

“Do you ever get lonely?” the brave little lamb asked.

In some ways, yes, I felt loneliness, I had my whole life. It lived inside my bones, inside my head, but then, there was another truth too. “It’s lonelier down there…than it could ever be up here.” Being around a large group of people didn’t make anyone less alone. This would always be my home. I would always belong to this mountain.

“I know…I see it in you. The sadness. It clings to you even when you smile.”

“No one else sees it. I can fake it well.”

“You don’t get to throw me away and then try to take care of me. You can’t pretend you care if I eat, then want to send me away.”

All these pieces of me he was taking…I hadn’t known I had the ability to give.

“For someone who’s been alone for over ten years, you sure do know how to use your heart better than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Sometimes my mental illness makes these feelings of worthlessness and sadness feel so much bigger, like they’re breaking me down. It lasts a little while; sometimes days, sometimes more.”

“I love you,” I whispered, then held my breath. Crow released my fingers, confusion clear on his face. “Why?” “Because I was meant to love you. I exist to love you, to belong to you.”

“No one has ever been this nice to me. No one has ever made me feel like I matter. I’ve always been something people can throw away. I don’t know how to deserve this.” “You already do.” I’d told him last night. Cyrus gave me himself. That was all I needed. “She said you were her sun, but you’re mine too.”

Now I knew my salvation was the man in front of me, and it was beautiful and right and I would never let him go.

I wanted to ask him. How can you love someone as broken as me? But then maybe that was why he could—we’d both been dropped time and time again, cracks in our armor, little pieces of us breaking off, but somehow, together, we filled in each other’s imperfections.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Crow. I have nothing without you. I am nothing without you.”

You brought me food. You took care of me. You risked your life for me. You give yourself to me. You love me.

“It feels like no one has ever touched me before you.” I growled in response, knowing what he was saying, that none of that had been real, none of that he’d ever really felt, because none of the other men had been me. “They haven’t. Not the real you.”

words trapped inside me again, the way they likely would always be sometimes…and

The world could fall apart around us, and we wouldn’t be able to look away from each other.

“You are my sun too. My life was darkness until you gave me your light.”