don't leave (l.h)

20.

I don't know what was worse, that I hate myself for what I did, or having Luke Hemmings to hate me for what I did. Probably the last. I mean I already hated myself long before.

When I was standing here, left alone with my own voice screaming at me, all I wanted to do was to run through that door and shout back at Luke that nothing ever happened. But I also wanted him to believe in me. Cause it was now, when I was standing here that I felt something I haven't felt in so long. Anger. And the funny thing was that it was not diverted to me, but to Luke.

I was so frustrated about this whole thing. I wanted to break something. I wanted to break something other than me. But what was I expecting? I basically lied straight to his face about cheating on him, for what? So he wouldn't get hurt. But guess what Hope, you already broke him. No, you fucked him up.

That's right, that's what he said to me, he said that I was only fucking him up. I know he was angry, but maybe he just said what he have wanted to say all this time and suddenly he just exploded. And the truth was set free. I was useless.

I was angry that he was stupid enough to believe I would ever do such thing. I was angry because there was no way I could take him back after this. How can I just had to tell myself to get over my boyfriend, and best friend? But I guess this was just a part of the break up, you just get mad at each other for no specific reason. You are just mad because you ended it and its your fault, and you just want to blame the other person.

I looked through the peek-hole in my door, to see if Luke was still out there maybe throwing rocks onto the ground to express his anger. Like when they break up in teenage movies. Those stupid cliché movies that he loved. I wanted him to be mad that he lost me, I wanted to feel wanted. But that wouldn't happen. No boy would ever be angry about losing me, maybe sad at first, but then they'd understand this was for the best. That I was just another mistake they didn't need in their life. I was just the psycho bitch.

Because that must be what I am, psycho. If anyone would ever listen to everything that I've done, they wouldn't say I was depressed. They would refer to me as psycho. And maybe that is what I am?

My phone buzzed and the first thing I thought about was Luke texting me, to say he wanted me back, but it wasn't. Although it was Michael.

Michael:

WHAT R U DOING HOPE? IS IT TRUE?

Oh God, did he tell Michael about us? God he probably told everyone about us, and now I just ruined it.

Me:

u r confusing me.

I tried to play dumb, maybe he was talking about something else.

He answered just a minute later.

Michael:

Luke told me and don't tell him i'm texting you he will be mad. But is it rlly true? I don't believe you'd do that...

God dammit, Luke. Did you have to tell Michael? Or what was I expecting? I didn't know what to reply to Michael so I just let it be. And I sat there, on my stairs all day, staring into the white wall in front of me. I was waiting for something, a sob? The pain from my chest making it impossible to breathe? Maybe a single tear? But nothing. I was just staring blank into this God damn wall and I was thinking of nothing. Nothing, but the color of how boring this wall was. How the white color, fading to a light eggshell.The creases where the frame from the door met the wall.

And when I thought about that, I thought about the creases by Luke's cold-blue eyes when he laughs. And I thought about how happy that laugh made me feel. I thought about his blonde quiff and how he always fixed it so that it would look perfect. But it always did. And I thought about his little nose, and his lip-ring. I thought about what he gave me for christmas last year. That stupid shirt that I've lost somewhere in my room.