Have it all // Dallas Winston

12 | Alone Again

Dallas Winston

She's gone. I'm finally accepting that. I'm accepting it at bucks with a glass of rum in my hands. I'm silently crying in the corner of his bar with tears streaming down my cheeks. She's gone. There's no turning back.

"You alright Dally?" Buck asked, I nodded. "I'm fine." I replied. It's the same old reply I have every time. I won't be fine unless she's here. And she won't be here. She'll never be here.

"What's the tab?" I asked as I chugged the last half of my drink. "Two bucks." He told me. I slammed down two dollars and walked out the door, putting my hands in my pockets as I did. I didn't drive here. I walked. Walking lets me think.

I walked along the sidewalk with tears in my eyes and my back slumped. I don't walk with good posture anymore, I walk like a bum. I may have money now, but I don't feel like myself anymore. I don't feel alive. I don't feel anything.

What if she's with some other guy right now? What if she came home a long time ago, just not here? What if she doesn't remember me? What if she forgot me? The thoughts just keep coming and coming and coming. I can't take it.

I crossed the highway to my house, not even looking to see if there's any cars coming. I don't care. Honestly, I hope they hit me. I want them to hit me. They should hit me. They would put me out of my fucking misery.

I walked into my house and into my bedroom. I took off the leather jacket that once belonged to my girlfriend and threw it on the chair, then took off my jeans and t-shirt to put on clean clothes. So I did.

I picked up the book off my night stand and fell onto my bed, opening it to the page I left on last time. The book is about a railroad train and the drama behind it. I actually like this book, even though it's a thousand pages. Literally.

I started reading about a month after she left. That's also when I took the job for that movie. In all honesty I Like the acting part of it. It's nice and it pays well. Plus if I ever pull myself together I'll be famous. Hopefully.

Somebody nicked on my door, I ignored it. They kept knocking. It was Johnny. We all know it's Johnny. Johnny is doing his stupid ass weekly checkup on me, I hate them. It's like he's a little geeky bastard now.

He kept knocking, it was starting to get really fucking annoying. It doesn't help that my eyes are red and puffy from crying like a little girl. I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want him to think I'm still stuck on her. Even though I am. He doesn't need to know.

"Oh my fucking god!" I sighed, bookmarking my book and walking all the way out of my room into the fucking kitchen, then into the living room, then into the foyer, then to the door. God was this kid fucking annoying.

"Johnny what do you-" I opened the door then stopped. It wasn't Johnny.

Her arms were around me tightly and her bag was dropped on the doorstep. My hands went around her waist in a hurry, feeling she was there. She wasn't dead. She's in my arms. She's in my arms, here, alive.

"Dally," she said softly, scrunching my t-shirt up into her shaky hands. I hugged her waist tighter and let a few tears drop onto her uniform, making little gray spots as they landed. She was actually here.

"Dally, I'm sorry," she said, crying. I leaned down and picked up her bag and kept hugging her while helping her inside. I can't believe she's actually here. She's fucking alive.

"Q,'' she pulled back from the hug and took my face into both of her hands, looking me in the eyes. I looked at her face, it didn't look good. She had scar after scar. It didn't make her less attractive, she would always be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.