"Little Girl" - lrh

35

Shit really hit the fan this time around. Nothing can just be... good. Nothing can just be positive. Everything makes me want to cry; everything hurts my feelings; everything makes me want to die.

How do I put myself in these situations? I haven't been given a break since I was seventeen. It all is just a blur anymore. Why do I feel this way?

Am I blacking out? I don't remember anything that has happened these past few weeks. It all is running into a blur. I don't know how I got from the fight to now.

To sitting alone on the couch we spent hours picking together. Looking at the TV she brought with her on own even though I offered to buy a new one. In the apartment we chose instantly just to be together.

It all feels like a bad movie, running on repeat 24 hours a day, seven days a week, that you think you have seen before. And you're terrified it's going to end the same way each time it runs.

Every stereotype you could conjure has been thrown in; the main characters are having their massive blowout that makes you believe no one can find love; the side characters are doing their best to cheer everyone up; the actors are all secretly dating each other off-screen. Scandals surrounding the cast draws viewers in, but I don't think anyone wants to watch yet another poorly directed rom-com where it is more probable the couple doesn't end up together. It defeats the entire premise.

How medieval does it sound to want a lobotomy?

"I don't think I could ever be in your shoes right now," the sound of Ashton's snacking pulls me back from the permanent mental breakdown I am stuck in.

"Whatever could you possibly mean?" My question is drenched in sarcasm. "I am doing fantastic." I push my hair out of my face to see him smirking, then letting out one of his stupid laughs.

"You look like a walking corpse," he chucks a piece of popcorn at me, hitting me in the eye. He giggles.

"I'd appreciate it if you weren't reveling in my misery."

"I can't help it. I watched you get everything you ever wanted and now I'm watching it all be stolen from you so quickly," Ashton brushes his dirty fingers on my pants. "I'd call it whiplash, but it feels more like getting the front seat on a rollercoaster."

"You are a grown adult, please use a napkin," I smack his hand away and lean back against the cushion.

"Does that kid still live here with you guys?" He asks, ignoring me before obnoxiously licking his fingers.

"Michael?" He nods. "Yeah. I have been sleeping in a sleeping bag in the spare room with him."

"Braver than me," he scoffs, offering me his popcorn bag. I shake my head and he shrugs. "I would have kicked his sorry ass out by now. Hard telling what they do while you're away."

"He isn't like that," I mutter, trying not to allow my ailing mind to imagine fake scenarios that wouldn't ever happen. "He's a decent guy. Even if he didn't like me, he has respect for Alice to not make any moves that would make her uncomfortable."

"Where are they now, anyhow? I've been looking all over campus for her; I'm only here to see her," Ashton cranes his neck toward the stairs and calls out her name. I roll my eyes.

"She's wrapping up her summer courses, I think she's taking one of her finals now. Michael mentioned going to see a friend."

"Well, since Alice likes to stay close to family, think when you two officially break up she'll date me?"

"You're disgusting."

"Says her daddy," he tilts the bag to his mouth, munching loudly on the rest of his snack before politely resting the bag in my lap.