Ghost from the past (18+)

#Twenty-nine: In which his work does the talking.

'Fuck!'

My eyes glance over the text Lexi send yesterday for at least the hundredth time, still unable to grasp this is happening. I know she's right, things just don't seem to work out between us. It's like the whole bloody universe is turned against us and we can't seem to catch a break. I throw one of the empty whiskey bottles against the wall in frustration, smashing it into pieces. Not caring about the mess. Since honestly, it isn't the first thing to hit the wall these past twenty-four hours, and it probably won't be the last either. I never thought she'd do it over a damn text message! Just ...fuck! I swear, my hands itching to smash something else, break something, anything, as long as it makes the ache in my heart go away.

I'm surprised the carpet doesn't have a run-down circle in it by now. I huff as I just can't seem to stop pacing through the room, something I've continuously done for almost a week now. I appreciate the fact that she didn't throw me out, because frankly, I've got nowhere else to go. My parent's place is too small and with the money issue still on hand, I can't afford a place of my own right now. It's not like I want to leave, I just have no fucking clue how to behave when I run into her...

My mind takes me back to last night when I was sitting by the window. What else is there for me to do? It's either staring numbly out of my window or restless pacing these days, trying to get my head in order. To no avail. Every fiber in my bones still wishing I can fix this. My heart nearly jolted out of my chest as soon as I saw the familiar headlights spawn through the gates indicating that Lexi was home. A sense of relief washed over my body knowing she was here, close. I never saw her face though... The second those yellow lights turned towards the house, I ducked away like some thief in the night.  Afraid of what would happen when I saw her. Afraid of what I'd feel... In hindsight, it might not have been my brightest idea. I know I'll run into her eventually, I should've just gotten it over with. Better rip the bandaid off when no one was around to see it! Now I'm at risk of crashing into her in the hallway, living room, kitchen ...anywhere. Which is exactly the reason I've stayed cooped up in my room this entire time. I'm scared shitless.

I'm scared of what will happen when I lay my eyes on her and realize that it's really over. Fearful of the look in those once twinkling sapphire eyes, dreading the fact that they won't sparkle at me anymore. Afraid to gaze over her beautiful features, aware of the fact that I won't be the one to caress them anymore. Frightened to hear her sultry voice ringing from her luscious lips, knowing I'll never get to kiss them again. And most of all, terrified of the confirmation that I broke her... Only then do I have no choice left but to acknowledge the fact that I've royally screwed up my last chance for redemption with her... As long as I manage to keep my head in the sand I can still pretend this is all some wicked fucked up dream, nightmare, holding on to the sheer hope that someone will wake me up any second now...