Every Rose Has It's Thorn

Chapter 33

ANDY'S POV

3 weeks. 3 goddamn weeks of drinking. I don't know what light looks like anymore. All I know is shadows. And how to sleep, drink, and break shit. I miss her so fucking much! I can't help it. Sometimes you just look at someone and realize that they are one of the best things that ever happened in your life. I fell, and I fell hard. I couldn't help but turn over and try falling asleep. But I couldn't. All I could think of was her. I always think of her before I fall asleep. The words she said. The way she looked. The things we laughed about. The silent moments we shared just staring at each other. And when I dream, I dream of her. Because it's about her, it's always about her. It'll never stop being about her. She is my everything. Perhaps I should go out.

I got in my car and drove around. When I turned on the radio, the most cliché break up songs came on, I turned it off. I rolled down the window as the intoxicating smell of pollution filled my nose. The sun was getting lower. I know where to go.

I drove out of the city and into the trails. I drove to a look out of LA. It was really beautiful and I plopped down on the side of the hill. I laid back and looked at the orange clouds. I began making out simple shapes like triangles, rectangles, and other shapes. The my brain began thinking more complex. Dragons, bunnies, batman. Then I over thought them. Every single cloud reminded me of her. Hearts, flowers, and even a girl. I sighed and leaned up. No more cloud watching. I grabbed rocks and threw them down the hill side. I just watched as my shadow got taller and taller behind me until it was gone. Its breath taking up here. I wish I had taken Ally up here. I began counting the stars. Impossible to do when you are depressed. I hopped into my car and drove home. For a minute, I just sat in my car, in the driveway, squeezing the steering wheel. I put my forehead on it. I'll admit that it still hurts, I'm not afraid too, and I don't know how to make it stop.. I feel pain in parts of me that I didn't know could ache this way. I just want her by my side again.

I got up and returned to my panic room. I curled up in a little ball in the corner with a bottle of whisky in my hand. I threw it against the wall when it was over. I began picking up broken pieces and shattering them even more against the wall. Every noise I make reverberates off the wall and comes back with a haunting mock. I hate the sound of my own breathing.

You douche bag. You don't deserve to be breathing!

I know inner mind. You are right. I wonder what we would be doing right now if she was here. Cuddling? Kissing? Fucking? I don't even want to think about us having sex right now. But how can I not? The way she moans. The way she screams my name in bed. Then the cuddling. Her bare body against mine. Nothing between us besides love and sweat. Her soft tender touch making me want her again. Her gentle lips as they touch multiple places on my body, making me shudder. That laugh, oh god that laugh! Most amazing noise that she makes besides moaning. And here we return to the topic of sex. But I can't..

I honestly hope she is happy right now. I hope she is laughing with a better guy, one that treats her right. One that stops the argument and lets her win it. He tells her that he loves her all the time. I hope she found a guy that's right for her, and yet somehow I feel that I'm the only guy that's right for her.

Now the tables turn.

I hope she comes back in tears, saying she'll never leave me. She falls into my arms once again and stays there forever. I hope she knows how much I need her in my life right now. I would tell her that I would never treat her like that ever again. That I was being a huge mother fucking dick. She actually thought I was going to hit her. I would never. I might squeeze her a little tightly but I would never physically harm her. I couldn't think about this anymore. I just wish she would come home and straddle me. Not even in a sexual way. Just me being close to her. I just can't deal with the fact that I hurt her. I fell asleep in my own tears and whisky.