infatuation // m.h

46

(A/N: Shout out to @Angelina1Thomas for her lovely comments, you're an angel x)

Three hours had passed and Matty hadn't said anything more about my birthday. He smiled at me as we had cereal for breakfast together. Not a word.

Had he not planned anything? Or worse, had he forgotten? I thought he would have organised a party or at least having some people over.

"So, what's happening today?" I asked, trying to hint.
"Nothing. We don't have anything planned." He said simply. A small smile played over his face.
"Oh." I said disappointedly, looking down at my bowl.
"What?" He asked, tipping his head, confused.
"I just thought - never mind." I said quietly.
"What?" Matty asked again.
"Thought we were going to do something for my birthday." I mumbled, my throat getting tight.
"You didn't say anything about it. If you wanted to do something, you should've said." He said, his face completely blank of expression.
My eyes widened. I thought he would have at least organised something for my birthday.
"What?" Matty asked. God, is that all he knows how to fucking say?
"Nothing. I'm going out. I'll be back by lunch, but don't wait up." I said angrily, storming out the door. I slammed it behind me for emphasis.
Matty didn't say a word of protest.

God, did he even fucking care about me?
Was I being ridiculous?  Was I being over-dramatic?
No. He knew it was my birthday.
Why was I letting him ruin it?

Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes as I waited for the elevator. I wiped them away furiously.
I didn't want to let this get to me, but it was.

I shoved my bag into the passenger side of my car and drove around for a bit, not really knowing where I wanted to end up. I avoided the beach, because I knew that if Matty went looking for me, he'd go there. I didn't want to see him, at least for a little while.

Things had been so nice this morning. What had changed?

I decided I had nowhere to go. I didn't exactly want to go home, because I knew Matty would probably be there.

"Fuck it." I sighed, starting up the car and driving home. I took the elevator up and opened the apartment door slowly, expecting to see Matty sitting on the couch or at his laptop.
The apartment was empty. "Fucking asshole!" I shouted, slamming the door.

I decided I wouldn't let this get to me. I decided I wouldn't let Matty being selfish ruin my birthday.
I was twenty-five, for god's sake.
"Fuck it." I said as I poured myself a glass of wine. I plugged my phone into the speaker and blasted song after song. Matty didn't come home, and I didn't really want him to.

The alcohol entering my bloodstream heightened my thoughts. I knew some of them were irrational, but some of them hit me hard. I drank to forget them.

I was sick of Matty's shit. I was sick of either feeling the highest of high or the lowest of low with him. Was he really what I wanted? I was sick of sex being the only connection we had sometimes. I loved him, but it killed me. When I was with him, I forgot everything. The feeling I got when I was with him was addictive. Dangerous. Nothing good could come of this.
The constant jealousy between the two of us. The fighting, the yelling. The sex. The tears. It was a mess. We were a mess.
We were inseparable, and I knew that we loved each other, but I could feel the connection between us slipping a little bit. It scared me - terrified me. I couldn't imagine living without him. I hated myself for how much of my life revolved around him. I was independent, but he was my world. I knew I was contradicting myself. The alcohol wasn't helping.

I knew a lot of time had passed. Matty still wasn't home. I was starting to worry a bit. I didn't want to text him, because that meant I'd forgiven him. I wanted him to come to me. Was I being ridiculous? I didn't know. I didn't care.
Another hour passed. I was starting to worry more.
I decided to call him.
No answer.

I checked the time. 9:21pm flashed up on the screen of my phone. I bit my lip. I decided I needed to go out, with or without Matty. I wanted to be around real people. I was sick of being alone at home.
I changed into a black romper and denim jacket and took the elevator down to the car park. I drove around for a bit, trying to find a place that looked alive. I ended up at that same bar with the glowing light that flooded onto the pavement.
"Fuck it." I sighed, parking my car. I checked my make up in the rear view mirror quickly before opening the car door.
I walked into that same bar Matty and I had been at a few weeks ago.

The bar was throbbing with live music bleeding through crappy speakers. A cover band had set up in the corner where Dean had sat a few weeks ago. There were less people in the bar than the last time I'd been, but it still felt better than being alone.

I sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender was a guy, maybe a little older than me with hair that had started to grey.
He must have seen that I was looking down, because he offered me a sad smile. I smiled back and sipped my drink.
I watched the band play their covers, feeling a heaviness in my chest. I didn't want to spend my birthday alone.