truth

no Idea.(shane)

She drives to slow...
She knows it drives me insane, but she does it anyways.
I love her for it. For the way she tries so damn hard to protect me, like I can't do it myself.

It took her half an hour to get to the hotel, and the whole time, she looked like she was gonna die if her speedometer went above 75.

Wait... The limit is 60... She's speeding. I guess I get a bit reckless when I'm drunk.

Dammit... This is why she's worried... My crash... Am I that dense?
She was with me for two weeks after my crash, only left to shower and change... She loved me.
She took care of me, watching movies, reading to me, helping me with homework, watching football with me, cuddling, and so much more. She was amazing.

One night, I had woken up and she was laying on my chest... I didn't know what to do, honestly... I wasn't on much morphine any more, (which she didn't know,) and I just... Stared at her. I watched her for like ten minutes, watching her stir and pull me closer. She looked like an angel, but for how she made me feel, she seemed like the devil.

She woke up, and caught me staring... And we just stared at eachother... It was like that was the one place I wanted to stay, forever.
Then she tried to get up... I wasn't going to let that happen, and I knew that she would blame anything I did on the morphine... So maybe I took advantage of her a bit...
We kissed for a while, the best kiss I'd ever had to be honest...

I guess thats why I had a little... Incident. And every time we started again, it just so happened to repeat itself... Like five times.

I certainly didn't want to stop... But I love her, and I didn't want to take advantage of her that way... It wasn't fair.

After that, we pretended nothing happened. She assumed I didn't mean it, or remember it... She was so damn wrong.
I thought about it all the time... Every time I saw her, I thought about how good it felt to get what I wanted... And that made it hurt so much worse to see her with James.
And now I feel like a giant jack ass, watching her feel like this because I hurt her.

But now, instead of talking about how I'm "feeling," she's laying on the bed while I take a shower. She has never been the kind to push how I'm feeling or... I don't know how to explain it...

She never tries to get all deep. She trusts me, and she knows that if I have a problem, I talk about it...
Or she did. I don't know about now, though... After tonight, she might feel differently. Fighting was a bad idea. Dammit.

I need to get out, like now. This shampoo is gonna kill me, it burns so damn bad.

I heard a knock on the door. She was worrying again.
"baby? You okay?" she said softly, walking in and turning the sink of to wash her makeup off.

"I'm fine, babe... I'm sorry." I said back, apologizing for the millionth time whike trying to keep my voice from shaking.
This sucks, trying to hide the fact that I felt this guilty... This horrible.

I'm sorry for so much, and now it's so hard to show her how I feel... She makes my heart sink when she's upset, and she's so scared right now... I can see she needs me to hug her and love her and tell her everything is fine... She needs me not to be drunk, bleeding, and emotional... Shit.

"...I know, babe... I love you. Listen, I am gonna be on the bed when you get out. You need to get your hands wrapped, and tomorrow, we can get them stiched... Again." she said softly, trying not to sound as worried as she felt.

... Here we go.

I walked out of the shower, and grabbed a towel and dried off, looking at myself in the mirror.
I looked rough.

She walked in, wrapping her hands around me from behind, breathing on my back softly.

"you have no idea what you do to me, baby." I laughed, turning around and kissing her softly.

"no, but I know what this does to you." she whispered, kissing my neck softly before she hit me in the chest... Hard.

"if you ever scare me like that again, I'll kill you." she huffed, kissing me again, harder this time, more passionately.

She was so damn perfect, especially when she worried about me. It was so cute, and it made me feel so much more alive, loved... Needed. She was the only one who made me feel this way anymore.

"you okay, babe?" I whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.
I could feel her laughing, her whole body shaking with humor that was a bit more sinister and dark than light and bubbly.

Another thing she was perfect for was her humor. Her personality in general, really.
She wasn't really the "light and bubbly" type. She was the kind that laughed at "dead baby" jokes, shamelessly. She wasn't the usual preppy, fashion and flirting type of girl.

She was a tomboy, ready to do anything that meant getting dirty or working hard.
That's why her dreams were amazing. They were so different from every other girl's dreams. She wanted to work on semi's, run her own company for trucking, work out in the shop.

She didn't dream about her wedding or kids or even her future house. She dreamed of everything I did. She dreamed about her marriage instead of her wedding. She dreamed about living with her husband, going to work every day, coming home to him, and loving him like every part of her couldn't function without him. Living in a mansion or a cardboard box. She never cared.

There are a million reasons why I love her. But none of them compared to the fact that she gave a damn about me. Where I went, what I did, everything. She loved me.

"okay? I was scared shitless... You worried me. I love you... Please don't leave me?" she begged, wrapping her legs around me as I picked her up, walking her to the bed.

I kissed her collar bone, giving her love bites and making her giggle.
I loved that sound. Her laugh was so beautiful and adorable.

"I won't leave, baby. How could I leave my angel?" I laughed, rolling over and pulling her on top of me.

"your towel fails to hide how you're feeling." she laughed, rolling off me and going into the bathroom.
... Thanks alot, testosterone.

I put my boxers back on and knocked on the door, solving the "problem" by walking outside into the cold air.
I hate being a man some times.

"babe? I'm sorry..." I hollered, feeling ashamed and slightly uncomfortable.
Morphine couldn't be used as a crutch this time.

She walked out, laughing and hugging me tightly before she whispered in my ear, making my life even harder.

"stop worrying, it's okay babe. Just keep yourself in check." she laughed, walking over to the bed.

She looked gorgeous, in her sweatshirt and sweats she had in the back of her truck.

This is my heaven.