A/n: Okay. I wrote this based a bit off of my own experiences, but it’s still very much fiction. I own not the lyrics, but I do own the plot. Please, R/R. Anything you have to say is appreciated. I know I’m not the best writer, but I try my hand at it.

Part 1/4

“Let Me Let Go”

Clara Bernhartt walked into her room, exhausted, and swung the door shut behind her. It had been rough this past month or two. The senior girl shrugged off her black trench coat and looked out the windows at the mountains, dressed in their fall foliage. Her senior year, though currently crammed with study halls, was already running her ragged. The sixteen-year-old’s schedule was packed with arts-related things; such as concerts, rehearsals, shows, and classes.

She flopped on her bed and flicked on the radio. A rap song was playing. Clara grimaced, then moved her stubby and callused fingers to the tuning dial. As she scrolled through the stations, she stopped on one of the few that came through clearly this beautiful afternoon. It was a country station, but Clara didn’t mind. She was practically raised on the music. The afternoon DJ was laughing about a caller, but quickly cut to a song break. As the intro music came on, she listened carefully. She had a talent for identifying a song by its opening chords. She recognized this one. It was a 90’s song by a singer named Faith Hill, called “Let Me Let Go.”

I thought it was over, baby
We said our goodbyes
But I can’t go a day without your face
Goin’ through my mind

Clara closed her eyes to push back tears. This song wasn’t exactly the best for her to hear. It reminded her too much of Paul.

Paul and Clara had met about five years ago. She had fallen hard for him after three and a half years. Until this past summer. Many times he had broken her heart. He didn’t like her that way. Over the summer, she told herself she would get over him. It was easy. Then.

In fact not a single minute
Passes without you in it
Your voice, your touch
Memories of your love
Are with me all of the time

She saw him every day. Chorus, drama club, even the bus! They were both very involved in the same things. This past weekend, they had had auditions. Her ear and eye were always drawn back to Paul. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t turn from him, or not wonder how it would be to do a song opposite him.

Let me let go baby…
Let me let go
If this is for the best
Why are you still in my heart
Oh, you’re still in my soul
Let me let go

She couldn’t let go

I talked to you the other day
Looks like you made your escape
You put us behind
No matter how hard I try
I can’t do the same

They talked almost daily, even if just to say a quick ‘hi.’ It seemed to be getting back to the friendly camaraderie they had before she had admitted she liked him and made it uncomfortable. It was always had for her to get over someone, but this was ten times harder than ever before.

Let me let go, baby, won’t you
Let me let go
It just isn’t right
I’ve been two thousand miles
Down a dead-end road
Let me let go

She had recently moved his picture from her bedside to her bookshelf, where it sat, face-down. She got up off her bed, not noticing the tears that slowly rolled down her face.

The lights of this strange city are shinin’
But they don’t hold no fascination for me
I try to find the bright side, baby
But everywhere I look, everywhere I turn
You’re all I see

She drifted over to the bookshelf, picking up the black and silver frame gently. It was a picture of him in costume from a show they had been in together a couple years ago. Holding it, as carefully as if it were glass, she sang to the face in the picture:

“Let me let go, baby won’t you
Let me let go
It just isn’t right
I’ve been two thousand miles
Down a dead-end road
Oh, let me let go, darlin’, won’t you
I just gotta know
If this is for the best
Why are you still in my heart
You’re still in my soul
Let me let go
Why don’t you let me let go
Let me let go…

Let me, Paul. Please…” She pleaded with the picture quietly, brushing her fingers across his face to wipe away a stray tear that had made its way onto the surface. As the ending chords played, her fingers moved slowly to the back of the frame and began undoing the fastenings. As it came undone, she took out the picture, giving it one last look.

“Because I want to let go,” she whispered, putting the picture with her memory box and fixing the frame back, empty as it was. As she wished her heart could be.