Letters To My Ex.

One.

I study my surroundings briefly before walking into the cold November air. In nothing but a green night shirt and some grey jogging pants I make my way to the mail box with my arms crossed. A car passes by, it looked like a nice little red sports car. It's only nine am, so I wouldn't expect many people to be out. I ignore the news paper in the yard and walk back into my tan double-wide to make some coffee.

I stare blankly at a picture on the counter. It's just framed heart ache. Suffering and heart break all printed out on a flimsy sheet of paper.

I look at the smiles on the faces of the people I once knew, of the me that I once knew. I'm laughing in the picture, the woods are in the background, it looks like fall. I look so happy, and so does he.

His name is Jay. He has slick black hair, and brown eyes to almost match. He was a lot taller than me, and kept me happy for over a year.

Jay and I had been together for a while, we had planned on forever. I messed all that up. I left because I was immature and didn't realize what was in front of me. Now I'm left with nothing but a cold memory and a broken heart. Every once in a while it even comes with a side of hatred for myself.

I finally gain myself back and I move my focus to my coffee cup. It's dark brown, nothing but heavy sugar. Steam flies off of the liquid. I shoot my wrist a glance, it's ten. How did an hour go by? Either way I have the weekend off work, and a weekend alone.

I can't stop thinking about him. It's been two months now, and everything he's got me is laying on my bed... Even a tee he left is just laying where he left it.

I feel a tear come to my eye as I look away, and I quickly blink it back. I've wasted enough tears on Jay, I don't need to waste anymore.

I can't help but wonder what he could be doing. I wonder if he misses me the way I miss him, even now. It's hard not to wonder these things. Even if he doesn't it's good to at least tell myself he might care. Might. That's word I've come to know way to well.

I step outside again to try to get my mind off the inevitable thoughts of Jay. I step onto the concrete with bare feet, at first it's cold, then I adjust and it's just rocky.  I look at the car, and I remember his car being parked next to mine. The pain of knowing that he's parked somewhere else, sleeping somewhere else.

Again my eyes begin to fill with tears, but I don't have the strength to hold them back. Tears roll down my face in a race to see which one can fall first. I fall to my knees unwillingly, and before I know it I'm a pathetic ball on the ground. I just lay there blankly, with a heavy heart, weighed down with regret.

After what feels like hours, I regain myself and move to inside the garage. I run my hand down the long metal pole that holds the rifles in place properly. I remember Jay buying me my Springfield, and he taught me how to shot it without getting hurt to bad. I loved shooting those targets with his arms around me, guiding me. I knew I belonged, I was welcome.

I look up at the lights, I look at the beams holding the ceiling from crashing down on me, praying that it could just give out. I'm not going to say I want to commit suicide, but if something was trying to kill me, I wouldn't get out of the way. I feel so pathetic at this point that if I had the option I would give myself the pain, and suffering. I hate the fact that I exist now. I never knew anyone could hurt themselves this much.

I walk back into the house, and head to the bathroom. I look into the mirror only to be disgusted by what I see. Bags under my eyes, and a dead expression. I pull the mirror back to show the medications I've had over the course of ages.

I grab three random bottles and poor them over the counter. The pills look so welcoming that it's almost sad that this is what I'm coming to. I look back into the mirror, then to the pills again. I look at Jay's body wash, and shampoo. The pain of knowing that eventually, another girl will be looking at that every day.

Tears fill my eyes as I take the pills into my hand. As I look at the mixture, the air begins to feel really thin. Do I really want to do this?

What do I have to live for? I mean the only person I had, I let go. What kind of person does that sort of thing? I'm so done with my life.

I drop the pills and fall to the floor, I am so ashamed of my life at this point that I'm trying to get rid of it all together. I knew I had to do something.

The only thing I know to do is to call the only friend I trust, April.

"Hello? Carter? What's up?" I hear from the other side of the line. "Hey April, are you busy today?" I ask trying to sound calm. "I know that voice, give me thirty minutes and I'll be over."