Overlooking The Moonlight Eye

Final Statements

Finals week falls upon the university and, for once, my house is actually quiet.

I haven't talked to Alex since we tossed each other off, which I wonder if that is a problem or not. But that weekend I didn't see him because I hosted a pre-finals party then Sunday everyone buckled down and started studying. Even Gabe, for whatever classes he's actually taking- no one really knows.

Actually, Alex didn't have any classes this semester because of the accident so I'm not really sure what he's up to, probably working.

Everyone has their studying thing. Gabe with his rewards with food, Ryan with highlighters and coloured pencils, Gerard with his graphic note cards, Dani with her post it notes. Me? Well I have crippling fear and lack of motivation. This translates to me laying on my floor, absently reading Biology 101 while Blink-182 blasts through my headphones.

At some point though, I do end up taking out a study guide. Big mistake on my end really because the only thing I know is that I'm going to fail.

As if that weren't enough, my brain decides to attack me. At first I was all like 'Oh, if this doesn't work out I can just be a stripper!', but my brain starts to attack me with every negative thought I have piled up. It doesn't happen often, this self-loathing, just every now and again.

I knew this would happen sooner or later, this downfall, I've been on an upswing since Alex and I got things straightened out. It was only a matter of time before my thoughts came to haunt me. Though, it could've waited one more week.

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Needless to say, this week has been an uphill battle, but now that it's Friday night... the real fun begins- both seriously and sarcastically. For one, this is the party of the year. The finals party. As for the sarcastic end of things, well, you'll see.

I didn't have a Friday exam so my drinking began Thursday night and went rapidly uphill when I woke up a little after two pm the next morning. By the time the party is up and going, I'm already hammered.

See, I have this theory that if I can drown myself in enough liquor, that it will subsequently drown the demons in my head. It hasn't worked yet, but it took Edison a hundred times to invent the light bulb, didn't it?

At this point, things are already going a little rough for me. I've been in a few fights, probably got a black eye, threw up, cut my hand open on some broken glass, threw up some more, and probably a lot more shit happened that I can't seem to remember.

I chug another beer at the self hatred tugs at my skin, and when I bring my head back down, my eyes fall on quite the sight to see. There's Alex, the faggot, walking down the stairs hand in hand with some girl. His belt is undone, and he has the 'just had sex' hair going on. Adding onto that, because I'm clearly not hurting enough, Alex glances in my direction but sees right through me, like I'm not even here.

So much pain rips through my entire body and the irrational side of me hates myself for all of it. I should have never trusted that lying, cheating faggot. I'm the stupid one. I'm not good enough for him, for anyone. He probably thought I was too chubby or too hairy.

There's a blur of drinks that I go though in the course of a few minutes. I'm still trying to drown the thoughts that keep getting louder and louder ever time I look over at Alex and the slut, just grinding against each other. I know I shouldn't, but I can't seem to help it either.

"Are you drunk enough for your speech yet?" someone-Gabe  probably- pats me on the back. I gag a little and he takes that as a yes. After every final, I host a party, get drunk and do a speech. I never remember what I say, but I normally find it on YouTube a few days later when I recover from my hangover.

I'm being pulled onto the counter (a risky move considering how wasted I am), and someone shoves the microphone in my hand. "Fuck you finals!" I scream and everyone cheers. "Know what else?  Fuck you too,  Alex Gaskarth, you fucking slut, I hope you get laid tonight. Everyone give it up for my best friend Alex Gaskarth!" everyone cheers for him too, except for me, I stare him down, looking at him from above. There's so much fear and regret etched on his face and he fucking deserves it. "This song's for you, and that slut too"

"For you, you cheating asshole, I promise not to tell your boyfriend" I yell as a final statement as soon as You Suck At Love by The Simple Plan begins to play. Everyone laughs at my comment like it was a joke, and as far as they're concerned, it is.

We started off incredible, Connection undeniable. I swear I thought you were the one forever. But your love was like a loaded gun. You shot me down like everyone. 'Cause everyone's replaceable. When you're just so incapable. Of getting past skin deep

Someone's pulling me off the counter. Everyone's so drunk they can't hear the words to the song...or  my heart shattering.

Guess what, another game over
I got burned, but you're the real loser. I don't know why I've wasted my time with you. You're bad news, a history repeater. You can't trust a serial cheater. You're good at hooking up but you suck at love.

Ryan's in front of me with a worried expression. His lips are moving  but the music's too loud to hear what's coming out of them.

Guess what, another game over
I got burned, but you're the real loser. I don't know why I've wasted my time with you. You're bad news, a history repeater. You can't trust a serial cheater. You're good at hooking up but you suck at love.

You know what? Fuck Alex!  I press my lips against Ryan's roughly, forgetting that he's my best friend in the whole world and it should be like kissing my brother.

You played me like an amateur Then stabbed me like a murderer I'm left for dead, another one of your victims It's not like you're unpredictable But your act is so believable I know it's nothing personal, it's just business as usual You're good at what you do.

Ryan pushes me away but doesn't look angry, theres only pity in his eyes

Guess what, another game over
I got burned, but you're the real loser. I don't know why I've wasted my time with you. You're bad news, a history repeater. You can't trust a serial cheater. You're good at hooking up but you suck at love.

"I hate him so much" I cry, falling to Ryan's shoulder.

"Shhhh..." he soothes, rubbing my back and allowing my tears to fall to his shoulder. "I know"

You suck at love.