Love is Cruel

Chapter 14

I was sick for a week. There was nothing anybody could do to get me out of bed. I didn't eat, consumed way too much alcohol and I slept. That was all I was capable of.

He had left me. Zayn was gone for good.

I was not able to function. Within these few months that I had known Zayn I had fallen in love with him completely and undeniably. And he had been able to walk away from me. Deep down I knew that I should have stayed away from him, from the beginning. He never loved me. And that was probably why I never said those three little words to him.

But apparently I was a glutton for pain and heartache. Because even though I knew deep down that he never seemed to have felt the same way I did I wanted to feel him close. I was always wearing one of his t-shirts, since he had never bothered to take the stuff he had here back to his place. It gave me the illusion that he was still around, close by - that he had just gone out to get us coffee. But the realization that he was gone always came back and I found myself on the floor crying my eyes out.

I was falling to pieces.

From time to time I thought of calling him. But he didn't seem to want anything to do with me anymore. And I was done begging on my knees for him to come back to me.

###

After that first week I got angry. I started to throw things, smashing beer bottles against the wall. I stopped that one quickly though after one of my neighbors called the police. I threw all of Zayn's stuff out, however, and finally I deleted his phone number. It felt like one of the hardest things I had to do in my life, right up there with saying goodbye to my mum all those years ago.

I reorganized my apartment. I moved the furniture around to make room for a new desk. I sat on it for hours, writing furiously on my novel until the early morning hours. I had no idea if it was any good, but the ideas were just flowing out of me and I had to get them on virtual paper.

I also went back to work. I ignored Louis, which I had done for the whole last week. I hadn't answered his calls or texts. Niall had even tried to make me open my apartment door, when he knocked on it like a mad man. But I hadn't managed to get out of bed that day.

I hadn't wanted to.

I didn't go to my favorite coffee shop anymore. Thanks to Zayn I couldn't stand the sight of even the front of the shop.

Work was hell. I didn't talk to anyone. I did what I had to do, sometimes even spending hours in the office during the night, when I just couldn't stand to go home to my empty apartment. The janitor found me one of those nights and apparently must have said something to Mr. Malik as he called me into his office the next day to have a chat, to check if I was doing ok. I must really have looked like shit, if he took the time to actually have a more private conversation with me.

He reminded me so much of Zayn, that it hurt to look at him. I almost broke down in his office, but managed to hold myself together. He looked at me concerned and suggested I take the rest of the day off, but I said that would not be necessary.

Mr. Malik had known about the relationship between Zayn and I and had been very concerned about it. He had mentioned that to me, when Zayn was still around. But I had not paid much attention to his remarks at the time. Maybe I should have listened, but I didn't think it would have changed much in the outcome.

I worked my ass off. I also spent hours and hours writing at home. I didn't want to sleep, because I had started to have dreams again. Dreams about a golden eyed man that I didn't want to think about, that I didn't want to have anything to do with any longer.

I tried to keep the contact with my dad as normal as possible. I still called him regularly and sent him emails, but I knew he was worried about me. I just told him I was stressed at work and had a lot to do and hoped he would believe me. I never mentioned Zayn and he didn't ask. Maybe he knew.