MISTAKES 2 (Tronnor fanfic)

#6 Pillow

(Listen to that sobg above)
TROYES POV

I just can't even anymore. I feel like everyone I get close to, I make one mistake, (well, many) and they all just fade away from me. So, I sit on the bed, thinking, if I now take those pills, my problems will fade. Then some bleach and...

I will be gone forever. My body will be buried underground and people just remember me as Some young stupid guy who killed himself.

Connor. I need him here so bad. So, so bad. I lie here, curtains closed and lights off, hugging his pillow so hard that I just can. I cry, cry so much. My tears soak his pillow and I just keep hugging it like a child hugging his best friend, not wanting to let go, not wanting to say goodbye.

Does it seem like I'm that fucking done?? Of course it does. I'm so done. Why stay here. Why? my children hate me, I drink so much that I soon die anyways. Why am I even thinking. What am I even thinking.

I just stay there, threw the pills on the floor and hid the bleach somewhere I couldn't take them, wouldn't want to take them. I start to think. This fucking society, man. It's sick. It's disgusting. Everyone has to be the same, fit and skinny and hot.

But you know what, society? Sure, toy can lay everyone down to the bed of normal life and tuck us to sleep, to coma, with the heavy blankets of Anxiety, Perfectionism and Sadness. But even if you murder someone, and cover the body bedsheets; the blood still stays when the sheets are washed. And the kids are still depressed, when you dress them up in nice clothes. You can cover everything up, but it's still there. It's always been there. It will always be.

I wait for... what? A miracle? A savior? Connor? I wait for something to happen. Just some tingling sensation in my head that could tell me what to do. Please, tell me what to do, I do not know, I won't know. What? Where? Should I even get up? Just continue drinking and pissing Connor off so much that he finally leaves me to die? I know what I need to do. I just don't know if I should or could do it. I should recover. But that route to recovery is so embarrassing. Everyone patting your back and saying 'Good for you, man.' I don't want that. I don't want this either. What do I want? A normal life with my family, watching them grow big and love and care them so much that I possibly can. And love my wonderful husband. the husband I love so, so much. The husband who hates me inside, I just know it. He hates Alcohol-Troye and a bit the real Troye too. Fuck my life. Literally.

Soon I hear a faint Ting from my phone and I receive a text from Con.

"Remember that I love you too much to let go."

I sighed again. If he really loved me, he wouldn't have left. He wouldn't just hang up on me. He wouldn't take everything that I love away from me and threat to never come back. He just wouldn't.

I throw my phone on the floor and slowly drift alseep, still not letting go of Connors soft smelling pillow, that makes me feel like I am safe...
Safe with Connor...