The Mistake I've Made

Not like I used to

Six weeks and he's still gone. By now I'm losing hope that he'll even come back, and I don't blame him for that. I deserve to be alone for the rest of my life, I don't deserve Patrick's love or anyone's love for that matter. Maybe I can finally accept that he doesn't love me anymore. I guess I'll just have to... get over him. It'll be really hard but time heals all wounds, doesn't it? No. Whoever said that shit is a fucking liar.

It's late and I can't sleep. I'm sitting on the couch watching some game show or something like that. The kids are in bed and I'm just sulking in the dark barely paying attention to the TV. I need sleep but I can't bring myself to do it.

I haven't written anything else yet, I don't know what I would say. Hell, I've barely even spoken a word except for saying bye to the oldest boys when they head off to school. Haven't even thought of anything worth saying to anyone.

A knock on the front door brought me crashing back down to this mess that is reality. Who the hell would be knocking at this time of night? I got up and went to the door, peeking through the peephole but it was too dark to see anything. So I slowly unlocked the door, warily turning the knob and opening it.

When I saw who was on the other side, I swear I felt my heart stop. Maybe even time stood still, maybe I'm not even awake right now and this is just my subconscious being cruel to me. Sure I've dreamt about Patrick on several occasions but this, this is just mean.

It's pouring down rain outside and Patrick got caught in it, his clothes are soaked to the skin and his hair is sticking to his forehead. I know he has to be freezing but he's not moving, staring at me with moisture in his eyes. And all I want to do right now is cry, because there's no way this can be real. I can already feel tears stinging the corners of my eyes, and I can't bring myself to speak. There's so much I want to say but... I can't and I don't know why.

"Dear Pete," Patrick's voice shakes as he says those two little words, and I feel my chest tighten. And already those two words signify that Patrick read my letters. I don't know whether to be happy about that fact or not. "You hurt me, bad. And I wish I could hate you for it, I wish I could hate you, period. Because what you did was a whole new level of low, even for you. I could get over the time you forgot our anniversary, and I can forgive when you were late picking up Bronx from soccer practice, but how the fuck do you expect me to forgive this? You cheated on me, and not only that, you lied about it right to my goddamn face! There's no telling how long that affair has been going on, and you know we have kids together. Did you not realize what you were putting on the line or were you just thinking with your dick again? So I'm sure you can understand why I wanted to leave. But despite that fact all I could think about was you and how happy you made me up until that moment. I love you, but I don't think I'll ever be able to trust you with my heart again. I hope it was worth it."

By now tears were streaming down my face as I listened to Patrick express his pain, and my chest tightened even more. I knew I hurt him, but hearing him express how hurt he was made me regret that I even came into Patrick's life.

"Dear Pete," He starts again, his voice is calmer but his expression still shows all of his anger towards me. "I used to think that you were the one sole thing in my life that kept me going. You used to turn my bad days into good ones and my pain into pleasure. But now you're just the cause of every ounce of pain that I'm feeling. I used to think you cared about me, used to think you and I were going to spend the rest of our lives together. I see now that I was wrong. I used to trust you with everything I had, but not anymore. I used to think I needed you," He pauses to yank the silver band from his finger, shoving it into my chest with all the pain he felt. "But I don't. Not anymore." And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the night rain.

I stood there frozen in place, my eyes wide and tears flowing freely down my cheeks. "Patrick!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping that my voice was being heard by the only one that mattered. I held the silver ring in my fist, tight enough to hurt, reminding me this is real. "I need you! Please, don't leave me!"

By then I was standing on the porch, barefoot and wearing nothing but thin pajama pants and a grey t-shirt, prepared to step out into the cold rain if I have to. I wanted him to at least hear what I had to say from my actual mouth and not through my shitty handwriting.

I heard footsteps approaching me, soles drifting across the slippery wet grass, but when I looked up I couldn't see anyone. There was nothing but darkness, but the footsteps continued. I opened my palm and looked down at the ring I held so tightly. It felt wrong for it to be in my hand and not on Patrick's finger, it just didn't belong. I put it on my pinky since Patrick's fingers were a little smaller than mine, right beside the matching ring I wore so I wouldn't lose it.

When I noticed the footsteps had stopped I looked back up, coming face to face with Patrick. He didn't look as angry as before, in fact his anger seemed to be replaced with sadness. Patrick had a right to be upset. I didn't though, I'm the one who caused it.

"I-I never meant for this to happen Patrick," I managed to speak through my tears. "I'm so sorry, I just-"

I was surprised to suddenly be feeling Patrick's lips on mine, I definitely wasn't expecting it at this point, but I was far from complaining. My mind finally reacted, telling me to kiss back, and so I did. I cupped Patrick's face in my hands just as he parted his lips, deepening the kiss and invading my mouth with his own. And, God, I have missed this so much. I missed his plush lips, the faint taste of mint on his tongue, the same beautiful mouth I had wet dreams about, the same one that kissed me awake in the mornings. I missed it so much. I missed him.

But then as I'm swiping my thumbs across his soft cheeks, I realize he's crying too, but still kissing me just as desperately as I am. Trying to grasp what we both can before it's gone.

Eventually, I gently break the kiss, my lips barely an inch away from his. I look into his sad, aqua eyes and press our foreheads together.

"Don't cry, please." I whispered. "I hate knowing I'm the one who made you cry."

"You weren't supposed to see me cry. I wasn't supposed to kiss you. This wasn't supposed to happen." He murmured back to me. "I shouldn't have come here."

"But I miss you, Patrick, I miss you so goddamn much. You're all I think about anymore. And I can't stop no matter how hard I try." I press my lips against his once more. "I need you, baby. Please tell me you need me, too."

"I love you, Pete. But I don't need you. Not like I used to."

"Fuck." I swore, squeezing my eyes shut as tight as I possibly could. And all I could do was continuously mutter apologies in an attempt to explain how sorry I am.

"I have to go." Patrick says, breaking away from me, but before he turns his back I grab his hand to stall him.

"Please, please, don't leave me again." I beg. "There's no me without you, 'Trick. How can I fix this?"

He smiles sadly, cupping my cheek with his free hand, the one I'm not latched on to. "It's gonna take time. Just give me some time."

"Will you at least visit, see the kids?"

"Of course I will." He pecks the corner of my mouth, wiping a stray tear from my face. "You and the kids still mean the world to me."

It made me happy to hear him say that, he still loves me, still cares about me. He wouldn't abandon me and our kids, he loves us too much. "I'm gonna fix this, I promise." I told him seriously before he leaned in and locked his lips with mine one last time, sweet and gentle instead of desperate and full of heart break.

"I love you, Patrick." I murmured against his lips once we parted.

"I love you too, Pete." He says before I finally let him disappear into the darkness and rain again.

I'm going to fix this mistake I've made, even if it takes the rest of my life.