Fractured Heartstrings

Ch 23.

William's POV
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How long had it been again?

How long had it been since I actually trailed my hands down her glorious body, or felt the graze of her lips, spun her around only into my arms as we restlessly danced the night away. How long exactly, a little too long for my liking.

Needless to say, it's quite obvious I'm not the magic man (besides in bed), and there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her feelings currently towards me. And truthfully, walking into the chilling and empty condo may have just killed all my faithful thoughts for hope. Just another proofing (which I really didn't need) that she was gone, possibly kissing yet another love that maybe just maybe; caught her stumbling on some rainy and gloomy day - but that's none of my business.

But hey, breakup makeup right? Lies! I mean at least that statement is - what're the chances of actually getting back together with a lover whom hates your guts?

Although I just love to amuse myself with scenarios convincing me I may actually have a second chance (or more like my ninth chance in this state of time), I know I honestly don't. There is no ninth chance for me anymore, or any existent chance for that matter.

The hockey season had started, and I truthfully thought I was doing phenomenally amazing. But you know, my stats and coaches were constantly telling me otherwise. Plus my ranking had dramatically dropped, which was quite shocking to my understanding. None of the media helps either, but I guess you gotta be friends with things that are always going to be there.

I signed, glancing over to my phone that blinked 2:30 A.M. Apparently I hadn't been getting enough sleep either - which results in tiredness when playing a game. I honestly think that's bullshit, but of course the heavy bags under my eyes just give me away.

I hadn't noticed any changes in my actings whatsoever, though, I am the exact same person as I was years ago. Yeah, maybe consistently hungover, immature, heartbroken, and restless, only the causal twenty-year-old things. Although apparently I had build up some attitude, something about acting more dramatic - but boy what lies the media makes up these days. Unbelievable.

Possibly It was the fact that I feared each and every night I wouldn't wake up next beside her. All in all, my nightmares became my dragging reality and caused pausing in my life. Hell, since when was Snizzbone socially awkward? Since I thought I could have it all, then waking up to loosing it all - that's when.

Wasn't love where you smiled when you saw their face, or where you felt the butterflies grow in the pit of your stomach, hands sweat and voice stutter, was that not the correct symptoms of love? Whatever happened after love, besides heartbreak - what was specified to identify you were diagnosed with that trauma.

I'm no doctor, but I'm for sure heartbroken. Even from searching my so called symptoms on wiki answers; did they say I was deadly trapped in heartbreak trauma. Only notable saying, I wasn't getting over this (preferably her), anytime soon (at least that's what Mike from Buffalo replied with, such an reliable and trustful man).

The restless and encouragingly helpful alcohol-filled-nights, would only continue longer. The nights that started off as parties and ended in tears of realization, would forever be ongoing (WOOH!). Ongoing until I'd find some treatment, some credibly curable treatment.

It's kinda like a drug; love, I mean you can start - but never easily stop. The desperate need for that other being only grows larger each day, then the next day you're heartbroken and searching for a new replaceable drug to deal.

"William, you need to leave your room eventually," my roommate warned, harassing my ears with repetitively loud knocks on my locked door.

I was odd, simplified; I was acting like some lonely teenager. You know, the type that rant about their ex lovers but then cry about it afterwards. Lying to themselves as they stilly lock themselves in their cold rooms. Which all in all, reminded me of pasts.