Benny Watts Imagines

I couldn't find the words to say 1 & 2

 Inspired by - What Can I Say by Carrie Underwood. 

As I sat on the window seat, I gazed out into the world outside, which had been engulfed in a downpour ever since that fateful night. My eyes were red and puffy from the constant crying, but I had given up on trying to dry my tears. The images of Benny's beetle's taillights in the rain kept flashing through my mind, accompanied by each crack of lightning through the summer storm.

There were so many things I wanted to say to Benny, but I couldn't find the right words to express myself. Every movement felt like I was carrying a thousand pounds of pressure as if trying to spin the world the other way. It seemed like no matter what I did, I was fighting against an insurmountable force.

That night had been etched in my mind ever since, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that we were both to blame for how things had ended. However, I couldn't help but feel worse about how I had let it all slip away. It pained me to see him standing there, shouting and screaming into the rain, and yet I kept silent. As he swore to the heavens, I never once opened my mouth to speak.

As I gazed at the white rotary phone on my table, my heart filled with the desire to call him. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was and how much I loved him. It was a daunting task, but I managed to summon the strength to move slowly over to the phone, pick it up, and bring it to my ear. Every step felt heavy and hard as if carrying a weight that I could barely bear.

I dialled three numbers, but before I could finish, I burst into tears and slammed the phone down. I knew deep down that he wouldn't want to hear from me, and the thought of rejection was too much to bear.

I slumped down in the chair, my hand tightly gripping the cold beer bottle. The apartment was eerily quiet, except for the sound of raindrops hammering against the windowpane. The chill in the air seemed to seep into my bones, numbing me from the inside out. My heart felt hollow as if all the emotions had been scooped out and replaced with an unbearable heaviness of regret. That night, I had said so much that I wished I hadn't, and left unsaid so much that I wished I had. The memory of it was like a ghost, haunting me in the darkness. Every time I thought of Y/n's tear-filled eyes, my heart twisted painfully in my chest. But I knew that I was the one causing her tears, even now.

It felt like everything I did was a monumental struggle like I was pushing a boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down again. I couldn't shake off the feeling of hopelessness and despair that had settled over me like a thick fog. I found myself staring at the black rotary phone on the table, absentmindedly turning the dial. Every click felt like a stab in my gut, but I couldn't help but think about calling Y/n. I forced myself to get up, my steps unsteady and picked up the phone. As I started to dial her number, my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. But by the time I had dialled the fourth digit, I knew I couldn't do it. I was too drunk, too emotional, and too afraid of causing even more pain.

As I sat by my fire, I could feel the cold and dampness seeping in from outside due to the incessant rain. In front of me was my small writing desk, where I had placed my best paper, ink, pen, and pencils. I had recently received some advice to pen down everything in letters; every little detail of what had happened, how I had felt, and everything I wanted to say but never did. As I started writing, I realized how difficult it was for me to express my emotions and put all my thoughts on paper. The weight of regret for everything I had done and how hard it was for me to make amends was overwhelming. I still loved Benny deeply, even after all that I had done to hurt him.

Despite my struggles, I continued to write, trying to find the right words that would convey my feelings accurately. Many times, I had to start over because the words didn't seem to be enough, and the emotions were too strong to describe. The many failed attempts resulted in a pile of crumpled paper scattered all over the floor.