***WATTPAD FEATURED STORY***
In order to forgive, you must forget, and the only way to do that is to distract yourself with the present, throw away the past, and keep your eyes steady on the future.
dedi┋to kay, who i miss dearly and who's fucking snapchat stories make 0 sense.
song + image┋SHE DONT LOVE ME by ZAYN
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L'ESPRIT DE L'ESCALIER (n.) the feeling you get after leaving a conversation, when you think of all the things you should've said
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WAKING UP AND I have an unspoken hatred.
I can't help doing it, really, because when I'm dead tired I only really sleep for about six or so hours, and then I wake up slightly drowsy and kind of alert. But usually I can deal and go right back to sleep, except not tonight.
Because tonight, someone should be sleeping beside me, and he's not there.
I jump out of bed, shaking the covers to see if Weston is maybe hiding under them, but to avail. Then I look around our room - in the closets and bathrooms - and he's still no where to be found. He could've bought another room for himself but his luggage is still here, so that can't be the case. And then I remember him saying that he was going somewhere.
I slip on my Sperry Topsider boots and a black, cropped sweater before grabbing the car keys and hotel key that are on the night stand and dashing out of our hotel. I take the stairs because I have no patience for the elevator, and after sprinting down three flights of steps I'm still not exhausted - I can't be when my best friend is missing.
And I know that it's stupid that I care so much for someone who cares so little for me, but I can't help it. I get this horrible feeling thinking of something bad happening go Weston, and in order to get that feeling out of me I have to make sure that he's okay. So when I zoom past a red light on my way down the street I don't give it a second thought, because I know that it's all for Weston. And when I almost run over a homeless man as he tries to cross the street, I don't care, because it's for Weston and I'd do anything to make sure that he's okay.
But after after an hour or so of driving around the city trying to guess where he might be, I begin to realize that my search might be hopeless. He didn't use his car and I can't track his phone so I basically have no idea where he went - in fact, he could've been kidnapped. The thought of that happening brings tears to my eyes and clouds my vision, so I decide to take a break and park in a nearby bar.
I get out of the car and enter the bar, prepared to either a) show the people in here a picture of Weston to try to find it if anyone's seen him or b) down every alcoholic drink in he building, but am stopped by the sight before me.
