I Miss You (kellic)

Kissing in Cars

I felt like absolute shit. My head was pounding and my limbs felt weaker than they usually were.

I had been in bed practically all day today, not bothering to go to school because who the fuck cares anymore? My parents wouldn't be back until the next Friday, so if I skipped a couple days they wouldn't know.

I still can't even comprehend what had actually happened yesterday with Kellin. So many things were said at once, like an atomic bomb went off. I went over and carefully analyzed almost everything he said. He said that Mike told him I liked him; I'd have to talk to Mike about that later. And then he said he was mad at himself? Because of me. Because he was afraid he liked me. Does that mean he still does? Did he ever? I hated being this far into the dark. Nothing made any rational since, which it never did anyways, but I still wanted it to make a little sense. I really most of all just wanted his point of view.

He also revealed some very personal things to me. That's got to be a good sign, right? I'm so hopeless.

Mike keeps his distance from me, doing whatever he does with Tony downstairs. He brought a girl over last night. When I got home from dropping off Kellin, a silver Jetta was parked in our driveway. I went upstairs and closed my door, trying to block out the base of the bed hitting the wall over and over. It made me physically sick, but it's not like I could do anything about it. Sitting and waiting. Mostly distracted with Kellin. He plagues my thoughts a little too much. So much so, that I can't do it. I can't cut. Every time I feel like I want to, I think of him. And then I lay on my bed and contemplate. And I just can't.

I hated that I didn't have control anymore. My depression was sort of like that in ways, except it did the opposite. It was a motivator for my violent delights.

I roll over onto my side and close my eyes, drifting off into sleep.

It was around three when I almost completely forgot about Kellin. I stood up quickly and ran out the door, my keys in hand.

Fuck fuck fuck. He's probably wondering where I am.

When I finally arrive at the seven eleven, he's sitting outside, looking kind of sad.

I get out of my car to greet him and he comes running towards me, hugging me tightly.

"Vic," he says in desperation.

"What's wrong?" I ask him a little worried.

"My uncle," it sounded like he was crying, but I wasn't sure.

His head pressed into my shoulder lightly and he sighed, "Take me away from here."

"Okay," I say leading him to my car.

He slouches down in the front seat and wipes his eyes, "Hey."

"Hm?" I ask.

He brushes his hand on my cheek softly. Then grabs the side of my head and pulls me in to kiss me.

That's when I woke up; jolting up out of my bed. My head immediately started hurting from getting up too fast.

"Fuck," I say out loud, holding my head. It was a dream. My stupid fucking mind, giving me a false sense of hope again.

"Mike?" I yell down the hallway. No answer.

I walk downstairs carefully to an empty house.

"Mike?" I say again walking out to the garage.

No answer. Well I guess he's gone.

I walked back inside and sat down on the couch. I felt it all over. The weak, limp, feeling. The feeling of emptiness. Except it wasn't an internal lack of feeling, it was my stomach.