Ain't It Fun

Sorry.

I miss you and things weren't the same
Cause everything inside, it never comes out right
And when I see you cry it makes me want to die
I'm sorry you're bad
I'm sorry you're blue
I'm sorry about all the things I said to you
And I know I can't take it back
I love how you kiss
I love all your sounds
Baby the way you make my world go round
And I just wanted to say, I'm sorry
"Sorry" // Buckcherry.

"This pasta salad is fucking amazing," Slash digs into his third plate, in love with his food. "Maybe I should keep you around for awhile." He glances up at me with that heartstopping smirk of his.
I roll my eyes, sounding serious,"Why would I stay here?"
Instantly, he stops eating, & his eyes dart up to mine. His expression has fallen & is filled with distraught,"Are you serious?"
My jaw drops, then the corners of my mouth curve upward, forming a smile,"You looked so sad. You really care."
"Of course I do. You're the love of my life," Slash finishes his plate, setting it to the side. His creamy eyes meet mine, making my heart melt. "We're soulmates. You're all that I want."
I walk over to him. Leaning across the counter, I kiss him & take his big hand in mine,"I'm not planning to leave. I've never wanted anyone more than I want you."

Bored, I decide to clean up for Slash. We're going to a different city in two days, so I might as well.
Folding some yellow towels, I bite my lip hard, & blood floods through my mouth, sneaking into every crevice.
I haven't spoken to John since yesterday morning. I haven't seen him either, but I'm still really pissed.
Maybe some space will be beneficial.
John & I have a complicated friendship. I love him like a brother, but he has loved me romantically, & I just don't feel the same way.
Opening a closet to put the towels away, I stack the towels on an empty shelf, then my eyes fall to the ground.
My heart fucking stops.
My throat swells shut, leaving me unable to scream, cry, or do anything. Shock overwhelms my brain, & my heart has plunged fifty feet into the pit of my stomach.
My body becomes weak as if this isn't real because this can't be real. It can't be. I stare at the motionless body, not able to move.
John's lifeless body lays there in a mangled mess. There's a syringe stuck in his arm, & his skin is a faded color.
In large, scrambled handwriting that I recognize as his, "I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW" is scrawled on a note by his shoe.
"John," I hear myself cry out from miles away, my heart shattered into immeasurable pieces. "John."
My knees give way, & I sink to the floor, laying his head into my lap & sobbing loudly. My cries, horrible and disgusting, don't even nearly capture the pain I feel.
John, my best friend, a brother to me, killed himself because of me. How could-
"John," I weep, my voice cracking. I cry harder, tears pouring off of my face & onto his,"I am so sorry. I love you so much. I am so, so sorry."
My heart weighs two tons in my chest, restricting my normal breathing pattern.
He shouldn't be there. I should be in his position. John didn't do a fucking wrong thing.
As if an inner demon is clawing at the flesh of my heart, it physically hurts to breathe. My hands tangle into his soft, familiar hair; I lay my forehead on his fatally cold one, breaking down once again.
John can't be gone. He's all that I've ever had.