I Tried My Best To Love You (Sequel To YAMFB)

Chapter 8: They're Never Gonna Leave You Alone

Complete nausea seems to take hold as I feel dirty, and watched. I'm not used to feeling so barren for the world to see. These aren't my worst mistakes but... whoever is doing this is flaunting that they can be everywhere I am all at once. I want to tell someone, to message Gerard and get comfort in a friend at the very least but I don't. Dragging him closer now would only make things messier. Did my stalker miss the part where I talked to Gerard, or were we simply out of ear shot? I don't understand... Why would anybody care enough about someone as insignificant as me to do this? 

I brush off these fears and turn over in my bed, hoping to slow my racing heart. As long as I don't make any more dumbass mistakes... there shouldn't be anything to threaten me with, right? Everybody plays Spin the Bottle... 

Unable to find sleep or calm or anything remotely settling, I get up and stare out the dirty dorm room window that is beaming from the bright sunlight and imagine what would have happened if I never came here. I know Josh is in his bed beside me but I feel so alone and cornered. I have nobody to turn to because I've pushed everyone away or made them hate me. Gabe's stunt last night proved he wasn't interested in reconciliation and it stung deep to know that. I know I fucked up; I keep fucking up. I am cursed. 

I get up and get dressed rapidly to accommodate the weather, pulling my hat tightly on my overgrown hair and fastening the buttons on my battered jacket. The gloves Gerard gave me have been unwashed for too long and feel slightly crunchy as I pull them over my knuckles. I make my way out of the residence building and into the moonlight. The fall air had begun to turn into a wintry breeze and I was no longer feeling prideful enough to pretend it wasn't affecting me. I pull hopelessly at the sleeves of my jacket to bridge the gap where the wind was snaking up my arms. I make my way to a nearby convenience store and pick up some chocolates, cigarettes and energy drinks. The bright lights from the store make my head throb and I get out as soon as I can for fear of passing away from the pain. I have some projects to work on and I hoped if I could at least focus on not failing school then the rest would blow over. I can't think of a singular person I had fucked over bad enough to warrant this but that didn't seem to matter. I figured the best thing I could do is move on and stop letting them see me sweat. If I stop fucking up and I stop doing anything worth getting blackmailed for, then they would give up in a heartbeat. Nobody should be that dedicated to someone like me. I'm not even that dedicated to myself.

There were only two days before the exam period began and I was terrified with how forgetful I had been. Several of my assignments were turned in late, others not at all. It wasn't necessarily out of character for me but I thought with different material I would have a better shot at combating my perpetual self-sabotaging. I was wrong. The convenience store attendant knew me well enough at this point as I was living on junk, caffeine and nicotine. I made an almost nightly stop despite running low on funds and I could feel my stomach wanting to betray me every time I consumed anything anymore. The beauty of exam time in University is that every student seems to be feeling much like myself. I could stay in the library all night and not be alone. There was a shared discomfort that was... well, comforting. I hated to admit but watching others wallow in the misery I felt every day brought calm to me. That dark academia bullshit they spew online has nothing on the absolute self-hatred that resonates in every single student. 

I don't have an exam for another two days, but for most, today was day one. The gym was converted into a makeshift testing centre and students were packed in like sardines. If it wasn't so late, the buzz from the stress would be audible all the way to the dorms. In four hours, students will put pen to paper and pray they know what they need to. Hell, that'll be me soon and I definitely know I don't.

The walk back to my room was uneventful. I passed a couple crowds despite it being 5 in the morning now, and wished I could shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach screaming at me that I'm being watched. I've been glaring over my shoulder every few steps for the entirety of my small journey and I haven't seen a single person interested in anything I'm doing. But that doesn't mean they aren't there. After all, my eyelids are heavy and my attention is divided.