I'm a couple hours from home when I stop and think. What am I doing? Leaving the person I love because some girl told me to? What's she going to do- if she really does plan on hurting Patrick then she'll obviously have to go through me first.
So I go back.
Patrick's POV
I lie in bed, cuddling my covers close to me. My eyes are a stinging puffy red and there are dried tears down my cheeks and neck. I sniff, staring at the wall. I didn't take my medication this morning. Why should I when Pete isn't here?
There's the sound of the door opening into the main apartment, then Leah comes through my bedroom one.
I sigh, rubbing my face. Leah has made things ten times worse for me. It sounds selfish but it's true. Ever since she showed up, Pete's been acting weird, she's been trying to hook up with me, and I've gotten more than the usual anxiety attacks.
"Hey," She smiles softly, sitting down near my feet.
I sit up, pulling my blanket around me. It's a dark red fuzzy blanket that Pete got me the day after we got together. "Today's not a good day, Leah."
She sighs, looking at her hands, "I can tell. Do you want to talk about it?"
I look out the window next to my bed and feel a steady stream of tears begin to drip down my face, "Pete left."
"Well, I'm here," Leah smiles, coming up to me and wiping off my cheeks.
I grab her hands and remove them from my face, standing up and running my hands through my hair. She is the last person I want to deal with right now. "Listen, Leah. I, um, I already told you I'm not interested. I'm gay, not straight, okay?" How can she not get this through her head?
Her face falls but she pushes it away with a fake smile, "You . . . can change though, right? Pete left, Patrick. He came over to my condo the other day and told me to take care of you."
I feel my face heat up, "You expect me to change? You do know I was born like this, right? I can't 'change' and even if I could I wouldn't. I'll never stop loving Pete. I'm sorry things didn't work out between you and I, but you need to leave. I'm sorry." By now I just feel desperate- why'd Pete have to leave? Why's Leah here? She said something about him asking her to 'take care of me.' What's that supposed to mean? Where'd he go? Does he think I can't take care of myself? Just because I'm depressed doesn't mean I can't take care of myself.
Leah starts to cry, but as much of a compassionate person as I am, I tighten my jaw, "Leave, now."
When she finally walks out I feel a huge weight lift off my chest, and I feel free. It sounds so cliché but I really do. There's still an emptiness inside of me that I know will never be filled by anyone except for Pete, and it makes me so sad to think that the person I love so much just walked out on me. Am I really that pointless? My parents don't talk to me anymore, I have no friends from school or anywhere else. I go back to bed, maintaining my position of staring at the wall in bed. A million thoughts run through my head- the usual contemplating-life thoughts mixed in with random ones mixed in with mostly Pete thoughts. My eyes start to burn after a couple of hours of lying there listening to my stomach twist and turn from lack of food. But I just don't feel like doing anything. I just can't. Maybe I'll just lie here the rest of my life.
I grab my phone, tears blurring my vision, and text him. Because what else am I supposed to do?
To Pete: i don't know why you left. i don't know anything anymore. i can't do this Pete, not without you. i just can't. you say you believe in me and you say i can fight the pain but are you telling the truth? i mean, you left me in the dust. i have nothing anymore. i only have damn work. do i just work until death? i just don't know . . . i haven't taken my medication since you left. i don't have the courage to. i'm sorry for whatever i did . . . even though i have no idea what it is. i really thought you loved me and i really love you, i'm so confused about why you left without a text or something. you could have yelled at me. you could have done something besides just leave. because guess what Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III- i've been lying here for hours and hours just crying out my insides, and i'm not asking for sympathy, but only a sentence. just one sentence to explain why you left. you were my last hope. goodbye Pete.
Pete's POV
It starts to rain.
A steady downpour, and I love rain, but I can't afford any setbacks. Trust me, the last thing I want to do is hydroplane into a ditch, but if Leah threatened to hurt Patrick when I was around, who knows what could happen while I'm not around.
I grip the steering wheel, the veins popping out on the backs of my hands. The windshield wipers furiously push back sheets of rain off the sides of the window, my eyesight still blurry.
But I finally make it.
I pull up to the apartment building that I've walked into with Patrick so many times. The one where we've watched the Star Wars trilogy over and over and over again.
And when I reach the apartment, I walk right on in, and have to sprint and shove Patrick against the floor in order to throw him off before he takes the pills.
- i hated how that last chapter nine turned out so that's why i redid it.
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