Author: Green Pasta PM
It's not like it was going to last anyways.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Hurt/Comfort - Words: 2,169 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 12-08-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2871417
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My mind is in a mess. Thoughts here, flying to the other side and getting tangled with emotions and distorted by similar thoughts crashing through-
I hate it.
I rested my head against the cool wood of my desk. Papers were scattered around, mixing in with other papers and books and work and everything. There is no order to my desk. Everything is everywhere and I don't know where to start or where to end. I can't fix it or clean it because it would only become worse and then there is the chance that I might throw out something important or accidentally mix in something with something completely unrelated and have to look through piles of everything else to find a match which will cause the mess to come back and it would be horrible and and—
…this needs to stop.
I stared at my cell phone in front of me, contemplating whether or not to pick it up and call the person who was making me feel so disoriented.
I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Grabbing a handful of money, I shoved it into my pocket and left. The park was about 15 minutes away from my house if I walked…which I would. Wasted time is such a wonderful thing.
It seems like we only ever fight.
There's not even a good reason, only trivial everyday things. I say the smallest of things and you flip out. You do the tiniest thing and I fall into a depression.
I miss the old you. I remember when we first got together you were such a cute, shy, bumbling idiot. You were always so caring. Whenever I made a mistake, you would just smile and tell me that you we would fix it…together.
It seems like 'together' doesn't even exist anymore.
"I don't want to do anything. I don't feel like doing anything." He started, looking towards his left.
"I don't want to draw."
"I don't want to sleep."
He cut himself off, still not sending a single glance at me. After a minute or so of complete silence, he walked off not even finishing his sentence. Why finish it though? My eyes watered. I knew what he meant.
"I don't want to talk to you", right?
"I don't want to do it." He told me, his face blank and his voice irritated. I continued to push on my fake smile, hoping he would be happy again. Hoping we could be as happy as before.
"Please? It's only this once. I-"
"I told you 'no'! Does that not make any sense to you? I don't care how 'important' this is to you, I refuse to do it! Honestly, if this is all you wanted, I might as well just leave."
His final words echoed off the walls in a mocking melody, the sound repeating endlessly in my mind. I could feel the tears in my eyes as I avoided his gaze. My body began shaking as a wave of emotions hit me as it became harder and harder to breathe. I only wanted us to do something together. Like we used to do before everything began to fall apart.
I don't know what he looked like at that point in time, or how he even felt. He just sighed and spoke to me with his defeated voice, as usual. How miserable he must have felt, huh?
"…Fine, if it really means that much, I'll do it."
The reluctance that coated his words seemed to hurt more than usual.
"Don't bother. You don't want to."
I am almost to the point of giving up on him.
"No, I do. I'll go do it, right now. Just, please look at me." His voice seemed helpless and I felt the want to give in, but my emotional turmoil overpowered his weak voice.
"No. You don't want to. What's the point of even doing it if you hate it that much? I'm wasting my time with you."
I didn't bother to listen to his reply as I ran out of the room. The tears seemed to sting more than usual.
"I love you."
He said softly, his voice almost desperate. His arms were clutched around my body, suffocating me slowly. I honestly don't understand why I am still here with him.
"I love you too." I replied emptily. It was forced out in an attempt to soothe his worries.
"Please hug me. Please." He begged weakly. I reluctantly began to raise my arms, but they soon dropped to my sides. I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to do such a small sign of love and affecting.
I couldn't do it because it simply did not exist anymore.
I gently removed his arms from my body and walked out of his apartment. Looking back at his expression seemed to be impossible now. I might regret leaving, as usual. Then, as usual, I would return to him and smother him with love as he ignores me and treats me terribly. Then, as usual, I would accept this and try harder to be the best person for him until I reach breaking point and a fight ensues. Finally, I would forgive him and the cycle would repeat.
This is the best decision for us both. If there's nothing there, we should just move on with our lives instead of clinging onto each other due to being used to it. We are used to the other being around and we can't seem to imagine life without the other being there.
Adjusting to it will be horrible.
Remember when we first met?
6th grade, 2nd floor stairway, right after lunch. I should have been in the English room and you were going to Chemistry. You were like your usual idiot self, laughing with your friends about how the teacher would kill you for being so late.
I was simply sitting on the stairs, waiting for someone to send me to class. I didn't feel like going, really.
You tripped on me, landing face first and ending up with a bloody nose. Rather than make me apologize, you simply laughed it off and helped me stand up.
I sat back down.
Your friends left you, laughing at how late you would be if you continued to stay with me.
You gave me the half eaten cookie you had left from lunch and saluted me, running to catch up with your friends.
I ate it on my way to class.
"Did you see it yet?" I asked him happily with a smile. I got a comic published in the local newspaper for winning a local contest. It had been my first comic.
They told me that I could make weekly comics if it got a positive review.
He sent me an apologetic smile, shaking his head no as I continued to stand there like the smiling idiot I am.
"Oh. I see. That's okay; you'll read it though, right?"
I nodded happily, turning on my heel and walking out of the door to his room, closing it behind me. The moment it clicked into place, my tears began falling.
He wasn't going to read it.
I've been making the comics for the past 3 months now.
"Hello?" My voice was raspy as I picked up the phone.
"Why weren't you at school?"
The voice brought a smile to my face as I let out a delighted giggle.
"Sick. Can't you tell?"
"Oh. Get better, yeah? Tomorrow is Pizza Day!"
"You always think with your stomach."
"Is that it?"
"Yep. See ya!"
I stared blankly at the phone. Before falling back onto my bed, face redder than before.
My mother just-so-happened to walk in at that very moment, rushing over in worry.
Yes, I was that red.
It took a while to tell her that I felt fine, seeing as she was fussing over me nonstop.
In fact, I felt better than ever.
A glass was thrown to the side, shattering as it hit the wall. My eyes were wide in terror as I looked over at the shards on the floor.
Did I do something wrong?
"Get out." He spat out, looking away from me. My legs trembled as I made my way to the door, heart sinking further into my stomach with each step I took. Oh, the acid is beginning to dissolve my heart. Joy…
"H-H-H-Ha-a-a-p-ppy a-a-a-anni-i-ive-ersa-a-a-ary…" I stuttered out clumsily as I tripped out his door. My legs and palms scrapped painfully against a few pieces of broken glass that were lying there previously.
He began to say something, but I ran out, ignoring the pain from the cuts.
Physical wounds are nothing.
Shrieks of joy echoed around the cafeteria. I hid my face in my hands, unsure of what to say.
He sat in front of me, face red with embarrassment. Finally, I brought up the courage to answer.
After all, he got the courage to ask.
Cue more shrieking as he stood up happily and tackled me into a hug, jumping over the table that separated us in the process of doing said tackle hug.
"Ow." I muttered softly, looking at the small drop of blood on my finger.
Stabbing oneself with a pencil is not a good idea, okay?
He looked over, curiously staring at my finger. Then, he grabbed my pencil and stabbed himself too.
"Look, we match!"
The grin on his face was so cute.
High school prom was interesting.
We went in clothes opposite to our gender. Surprisingly, we looked the gender suited for the clothing.
We managed to convince everyone that we had gotten sex changes just before the prom.
It was interesting indeed.
He became prom queen and I was the prom king.
"You're cheating on me, right?" I stated monotonously, looking out of the window. It was lunch time, but I asked to eat inside of the Math classroom.
"Whatever, I don't have time for this." I stood up, packing my things slowly before walking out. He followed me, of course.
"Listen to me-"
"Look." I stopped, not bothering to turn around. Why look at him? It wasn't worth it.
"This isn't like one of those stupid TV shows or books. No matter how much you explain, I don't care. I won't forgive you so soon, that isn't reality, okay? So please, get out of my face. We're through."
I held onto his hand tightly, burying my face into his arm. He was so warm.
"Do you need something?" He asked, continuing to look in the other direction. I frowned, letting go of him.
"…No. Nothing. Nothing at all."
I ran away feeling colder than ever.
"Will you stop doing that!?" I finally snapped, forcing back the tears that were threatening to spill from my eyes. For 30 minutes now I had tried to ask him something, but he continued talking to other people.
Even though I was there first.
He glanced at me and apologized before returning to what he was doing previously.
Talking to a female.
I bit my lip, managing to draw blood from it, and simply stayed there. It's not like I had anything else to do…
"I don't like it." He mumbled softly, a hurt look in his eyes. I cocked my head to the side, unsure of what he meant.
"You. You keep on hugging guys. I don't like it!" He repeated, raising his voice slightly.
"Stop it." He demanded.
I simply turned me head, gazing blankly at the wall.
"It's not like you ever cared before."
"I always have!"
"It's not going to work out. You're moving to a place on the other side of the Earth for God's sake!" I cried out from the top of the stairs that separated me and him.
"We can try." He said, practically begging. "Please!"
"I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it…" I cried to myself as I fell backwards. I braced myself for the impact, but it never seemed to come.
He was breathing heavily, holding up my weak form. I cried into his shirt.
"Okay. For you. I'll do it for you."
Yeah, it doesn't really make sense since it's not in chronological order. It's like, everywhere.
But I found this on my computer and figured I'd submit it since it seemed finished enough.
Perhaps you guys could leave a review saying what you think their story was~