Moving On

Chapter 3

It's only been two weeks since I gave Belle the concert tickets and she still hasn’t shut her mouth about them. I like seeing her that happy, it makes me feel like I did something right for once. I was just sitting in my room watching the television looking at an old photo album Gavin and I had made. It didn’t have very much but it had just enough to get me to remember every detail of him. There's this one picture of him smashing some cake in my face on my birthday. It's hard to think someone could be so perfect all the time. I also find it quite hard to imagine me being that happy again; back then I really hadn’t put an effort into it either.

It's one day before Belle and I go to the concert and I'm pretty psyched for her, but at the same time worried for her very slim chance of keeping whatever is left of her sanity. I love seeing her happy she's practically the only family if that’s what you want to call her. I mean she’s always there for me not matter what. I’ve planned that after the concert I’ll find some bar to get drunk at for the sake of my own personal needs. I haven’t had a drink in days and my lust for the burning sensation of alcohol dripping down my throat has been driving me mad.

I love how it makes me feel, just for one night I can forget everything. I can escape my reality, loneliness and sorrow. I know it's a bad habit but I love it and I can’t stop, it's such an addiction. The feeling of looseness and light headedness, the adrenaline pulsating rapidly through my veins drives me wild. Sometimes I even find myself a nice gent, liking the feeling of being with someone out of complete lust and not love and knowing that I don’t have to let go of  Gavin. I normally feel guilty in the morning, though, almost like I’ve betrayed Gavin.

I know he would want me to move on, and that’s actually what he said to me days before he died. He asked me to promise him that I would move on, but I told him that I wasn't sure if I could keep that promise. He always did believe in me, even when I would make mistakes and thought I was doing something right; he never said anything but encouraging words. I hate how I can’t stop thinking about him. It just always seems so silly to me like, I shouldn’t be thinking about him but myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not selfish--far from it, I just spend too much time focusing on finding a miracle on getting him back rather than focusing on moving on. Holding on to him is the most selfish thing I can do. I just can not let go, I don’t want to. Maybe if I didn’t have so much time I wouldn’t think so much.

I set the old tattered album back on top of the shelf behind my bed and decided to go to the kitchen in hopes to sooth the burning I was currently feeling in my throat. I scrambled down the stairs, slightly tripping towards the bottom from an old indent. I remembered that indent like it was yesterday. It was that day that Gavin and I had gotten into our very first heated fight.

We were arguing over my job and how he didn’t approve of me wearing the skirt I had been told to wear that night. He didn’t like the idea of other people looking at me, or more importantly, the exposed area that my skirt showed. I was his and only to be his. The tension that night had spun into a high and in his anger and frustration he had thrashed the stairs. We later found out that he broke his ankle and that we had a nice bill to pay on the apartment. I had almost become afraid of him that night and he regretted kicking the stairs. He didn’t and never wanted me to be afraid of anything in life. He always told me to take a strong grasp on what was given to you in life and whatever you grabbed hold on to it tightly and never let it go, because you never know when it might just want to leave.

When he told me that it had  stuck in my head and I kept his saying true. I took everything in life and did everything I could with it whether it be a job opportunity or saving a bug in the corner of the room. I tried, and that’s all he wanted me to do was try. That night he had apologized and promised to lose his temper because he hated seeing the fear in my eyes.

He never did lose it again either, even on the most frustrating of days. When he did get angry he would just go down and work on his car or he’d try to fix little things around the house like light bulbs, the wall, sinks anything really he could get his hand on to calm him.

I continued going through the cabinets looking for food as well as a drink, but there wasn’t anything but saltines, bread, and ramen noodles. I really needed to do some shopping, I guess. I sighed; I guess I’m not that hungry anyways, just thirsty. I looked behind me to the refrigerator in hopes of coping with the thirst a sudden sadness I was feeling.  There was a bottle of vodka at the back of the fridge so I grabbed it and twisted the cap off.

Once again I drowned my sorrows out and forget everything. The pain, the sorrow, the memories and in the morning I'll regret it but just for tonight I'll be happy and weightless and no one can bring me down, even if they tried their hardest . This bottle tonight is my only friend and tomorrow will be a new start. I'll try to begin again try to be good, try to be happy. The hardest part is knowing I’m only going to sink back down, turning to my liquid escape once again.

Sorry this is really just a filler chapter. I really plan on bring Niall in about the 5th chapter so hang tight!  Also I've been a bit brain-dead the past few days and I know this one sucks.....Please leave suggestions and criticisms everything helps.

There is also a picture of Belle on the side link (:

Thank you for reading.

Fan - Comment - Vote