Goodbye Graceful (Ronnie Radke love story, 3rd book in The Drug In Me series )

54. Pre-Party

**** I'm sorry it's so hard for me to update ahh! I hope you enjoy. The moment you've all been waiting for...maybe..next chapter....okay....let's jump to it

OH MY JINXXY YUU SLEEPING WITH SIRENS STOMACH TIED IN KNOTS IS THE SONG FOR RYKER AND RONNIE AND AHH!****

*Ryker*

The party was today, and I couldn't be more excited. My stomach was tied in knots doing cartwheels, my heart was beating it's way through a psychological marathon, and my lungs were boxing each other for more room in my constricted chest.

It's like I was shrinking, my excitement was compressing me into nothing.

I couldn't breathe, but for some reason that wasn't a problem, and I was jumping around in my pajamas doing really bad dance moves and throwing spatulas and whisks around.

Don't ask, I was attempting to cook but I got distracted.

I couldn't even stop myself when Luna and Leah came in and laughed at me, I jumped on the couch and air screamed into my fist, having a silent rave.

"Someone's excited" Luna remarked, and I jumped off the couch - or rather, tried to, fell, and then crawled and grabbed her feet shaking them.

"I'm ecstatic! We're having a party! Woo!" I squealed, rolling on my back and wiggling in excitement.

"Did you already break into the liquor?" Leah asked me, raising her eyebrows, and I sat up sheepishly.

"Maybe a little. I only had one tiny Mikes....and a beer...and a tiny tester of wine. But I'm fine! I promise!" I said, giggling and falling back on the floor.

I don't know if I'm doing this because I'm buzzed, or if it's because I'm nervous as fuck for this party.

Sure I'm excited, but what if Ronnie's there, and shit what if Ronnie's there, what do I do? I want to talk to him but I fuck up harder each time I speak to him. So what should I do?

Ronnie haunted my every waking moment. He was the curse and the blessing of my mind, causing my heart to stop and my lungs to contract into painful twists.

I want to talk to him. I want to patch things up. But lately all we've done is argue. Yelling, screaming, throwing things, cursing and glaring. That's us.

But even then I couldn't lie and say my heart wasn't pitter-pattering in my chest like a child running from an imaginary monster. I couldn't lie and say I was shaking from anger, I was shaking from the intensity of being close to Ronnie. I couldn't get enough of him.

And every time we fight I feel myself like it more and more. That's not normal! I'm not supposed to like fighting! I guess anything to do with Ronnie is an addiction to me now. I'm so desperate, even him angry at me is better than him ignoring me. It's sad, really.

Even harsh words and angry glares make me fall for him more and more. Is there an end to this?

I thought I couldn't possibly love anymore, but loving Ronnie is a bottomless pit going on and on. It's an endless well, a rabbit hole that goes on forever. And once you fall in there's no going back, no getting out. It's forever.

It's a hellish, wonderful Wonderland that you never leave, and in some sick, twisted way you don't want to leave, because leaving means forgetting how it feels and even for how torturous and painful it is, you don't want to forget. The pain becomes a part of you.

There's no where to go but down, deeper into attachment and desire and love, all centered around Ronnie.

It's like, once you see him, it's not the sun you're orbiting around, it's him.

It's like the entire earth in your mind is rotating round and round in an endless obsession with Ronnie. And no matter what he does, no matter what you do, it still goes on and on, round and around him.

He was everything and nothing. He was the only thing that existed, and he didn't exist.

He was the world, he was the ocean with bottomless depths that lure you in, he was the siren pulling you to your death, and you let him because of the intense feeling of love you have for him. Like you're the only thing in his world, just as he's the only thing in your eyes.

He was the cliff that you felt drawn to walk on the border of, for the thrill of potentially falling. He was the danger calling to you, luring you in with promises of thrill and excitement.

What it meant to be around him was feeling, really truly feeling with every aspect of your self, every atom of your body, every part of your mind. Feeling was what it meant to know him. Good and bad, and neither. All at once.

He was a paradigm, he was a conflict.

He was like a drug, like the bottle of booze whispering to you. He was the thrill of doing something wild. He was like a leech, latching onto you and sucking you dry. But you try to do the same thing to him, and you just can't get him off you, out of your mind, out of your dreams.

He becomes everything. He almost seems like a figment of your imagination. Sometimes he feels like a nightmare, other times he's a dream. He is love. He is hate.

The love. Is it real? Maybe not.

But it feels real, and that's all that matters to you. To me. To anyone who's loved as intensely, as recklessly, as deeply as I love Ronnie. Always and forever. Maybe you won't last, but the love will. No matter how hard you resist it's always there.

And maybe that's a bad thing, maybe it's a good thing. Maybe you wouldn't feel so drained and tired and obsessed if the love went away. But the love reminds you that you're alive, that you can feel and hurt.

And it's perverted really, sick, how you become so attached to the hurt, the pain. It almost seems like you enjoy it, and you do. You like the pain if it's coming from him. Because everything from him becomes a dream, a gift, a precious.

But you can't help but love it, because you can't help but love him.