Confused.

Hope and Faith.

Gavin

You see the world relies on hope. A doctor won't always know if a patient will fully recover, anything could go wrong at any moment, but he has hope. A lawyer won't always know if he will win a case, new evidence could come up against his client, he could lose the case, but he has hope.

The same way I didn't know if a relationship with Marcus McKellen could go wrong or not, someone could cheat, someone would get tired. Everything was bound to go wrong and that's one thing I knew from the moment I  kissed my best friend of 14 years, all because I was in love with him. Everything could go wrong, but I  had hope.

Except I wasn't a doctor who had cured patients and neither was I a lawyer who had won a case purely on luck. No I'm was just a teenage boy who just got his heart broken by his best friend.

"I'm sorry." Marcus whispers.

I don't know exactly how to respond to that. I just take a moment to stare at Marcus. From his black locked hair I used to run my hands through, plum pink lips I spent afternoons kissing, golden honey eyes I would catch staring at me from across the room, hidden behind gold framed glasses, probably his third pair this year, his long limbs that would wrap themselves along my sleeping body.

I take the chance to memorise everything about Marcus McKellen in that exact moment, as I always do. How he played with his fingers as the conversation started, twisting my ring between his fingers.

"....but I love you." I don't mean for it to sound like I'm begging but it does. I don't know what to do to make Marcus stay, make him love me the way i love him.

"I know. I'm sorry," Marcus breathes and looks up at me, for the first time since we entered his room.

He looks sad. That's not fair considering the fact that I'm the one who should be sad. I spent nights dreaming of him and wondering what it would be like if we were together.  I watched him go through countless girlfriends and boyfriends, saying none of them deserved him as much as I did. I took care of him when he cried himself to sleep, I sat in the passenger seat as he drove to his therapy sessions, I bought him ice cream after a bad break up and I sat next to him as we watched any  Amanda Barnes movie.

I love him.

"How could you do this to me?" I whisper.

"Sunny-"

"Fuck you," I say, "Fuck everything."

"Sunny please."

"Shut the fuck up!" I scream. I need him to be quiet as I process my thoughts. I need silence.  Obviously him being the God sent angel he is, he shuts up.

"How long."

"Does it matter."

"How fucking long, Marcus!"

"Two weeks."

I cry. I cry because for two weeks he has kept this from me.

"Did he apologise?" I ask, hoping that this can all be reversed.

"Yes."

"What a fucking gentleman he must be."

"Sunny."

"Marcus!

"It's not his fault. He didn't know I was drunk! OK?! He had no idea I was wasted cause he was equally wasted.  Don't blame him."

I want to throw something. Anything. I just want control.

"Now you're defending him?"

"YES! Sunny I can't let you get upset with him when it wasn't his fault."