Charlie.- Completed

twenty eight

"Okay I'm going for a run!" I shouted into the house as I reached the bottom of the stairs. 

"Loz." I turned and looked at Alfie. All 5 of them had had this permanent sad face on since I told them I'd booked my flight last week. I'd had enough of looking for him everywhere hoping he'd show and he just needed time. He never did. "Your leaving for the airport in like 6 hours." 

I walked to him slowly and put my hand on his cheek rubbing my thumb on his cheek. 

"I know." I kept my voice low. "I won't be long. An hour at most. Then you guys have me for the full 5 hours. I've already packed, everything else is sorted." 

"Do you have to leave?" I chuckled as he pulled me into a tight hug. 

"You know I can't stay here Fred. It hurts too much." I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. "I know I'm playing it off really well and keeping it all together but inside I'm breaking more the longer I'm here." 

Slowly, I pulled back so I could look at his sweet little face again.

"You guys are coming out in like 3 weeks though. That's not that long, you were all away longer over summer." 

"That's when you were a short drive away." 

"And I'll only be a short-ish- flight away." I sighed and stepped back and patted his chest as I straightened my back "Come on now. No tears remember. Not until after I go because you'll set me off and I won't make it onto the plane."

"We don't want you to get on the plane." I sighed and took a step back, letting him drop his hands from me delicately. 

"I know you don't." I looked back at the door and then back to him. "I really need to go run Fred. I'll be back soon." He ran his hand through his hair and turned around, walking in to the other guys in the kitchen. 

This was a lot harder on them the closer we got.  Last night one by one they'd all climbed into my bed and at 3am they were fighting over who got to cuddle me next. It was hurting me to say goodbye to them but nowhere near as much as it hurt me to continuously look at all the places Noah had kissed me, or touched me. 

I could barely go into the kitchen without having a panic attack or throwing up. It was an intense pain that wouldn't go away. I knew some distance would help. The boys were keeping the house, I didn't really want to sell it. I liked the idea that my first home went to some use, but I couldn't be here. 

Even this city was too much for me now. I knew he was still here. The boys would go and see him for a few hours everyday. He was doing okay. That's as much as they'd tell me. I think we both knew it wasn't going to work now. 

I'd put myself out there for him to make the decision on if he still wanted me or not. I got my answer. 

Now all I had was the memories of it all. And they were haunting me, keeping me awake into the early hours of the night. That's when it was hardest. 

I'd be tossing and turning and then I'd stand up and pace, putting my headphones in and crying silently to any song that even remotely mentioned love because no matter how abstract, they were all about him. 

I'd eventually give up on trying to sleep around 4am and I'd go for a run. I'd usually be running for hours. A few nights ago it was really hard. I was out running for almost 6 hours. I don't even know how I managed it. I'd ended up calling Fin to come pick me up because I couldn't feel my legs. He did and we didn't speak a single word about it. Even now. 

They all knew it would be best for me to go. To be alone for a little while and allow myself time to recover from the disappointment. 

I'd known it could end like this all along. The whole time I was putting the setlist together for him. When I was recording Ruin My Life. I knew it could go the opposite way to the one I wanted it to, I just didn't expect it to. And I think that hurt most. I'd built his reaction up in my head and it didn't happen. I'd broken my own heart. Again. 

I closed the door carefully behind me and stared at the wall where I'd sat smoking with him before we went to Greece. I felt sick again. I sighed, looking down at the floor as I walked past it. I couldn't wait to get on that plane.

The music wasn't loud enough. I could still hear myself thinking. I turned the volume up and started running. 

I hadn't been living this year. I'd been surviving, barely making it through one day to the next. It was exhausting. And the fact that summer was essentially here to remind me of last year was making it even worse. My life was so much different last May. I was at least happy in some sense. 

Now I was just a train wreck of emotions, piled one on top of the other with them all melted and bended, forming into one giant pile on my chest. It was suffocating me. I couldn't breathe and I felt like I was going to pass out. 

The only time the pain felt slightly easier was moments like this. When I could hear only music  and feel only my feet smashing into the floor as I urged myself to move faster, push harder. Let the pain from running be so hard that I can't think about anything else. At least it was pain that came with the achievement of doing something. 

What was the pain of Noah giving me? What had I done to achieve it? Nothing I could be proud of. 

Maybe that hurt even more than anything. 

That I'd let him down and I'd let myself down in the process.