Let Her Go (Already Broken Sequel) {J.B.}

Chapter 11

^Picture of Justin^

~Justin's POV~

It amazed me how quickly a day could turn to shit.

It was hardly 10am when I started daydreaming about going back to sleep; checking into unconsciousness for eight hours seemed so far away yet it was the only thing that got me through the day.

I was supposed to be released from the hospital yesterday, but due to my "unwilling nature to accept my illness" I was given the luxury of spending the night here last night, and nothing could have made me realize what's wrong with me quite like that did.

I had about three panic attacks last night. Didn't get any sleep, but the nurse said that could have been due to the drugs they had me on. I hated this place and I've hardly been here for a full 24 hours. Just lying in this bed makes me feel like I'm in some sort of insane asylum.

I kept having flashbacks of all the times people would warn me about becoming out of control with my own body, the times I'd have interviews and they'd praise me on how grounded I was, shaking their heads at the ones who would end up where I'm sitting right now. But what people don't get is that it's a constant battle to keep your mind screwed on straight. When every single move you make is objectified and criticized by people you don't even know, people you've never had half a conversation with... Having a solid perspective on what's right and wrong gets harder to do with each day that passes on.

It's constantly being portrayed in the media that people in this industry are no good. That were weak people who give into the first indecent opportunity were given. That our lives are lived around drugs and fancy cars and parties. That were not so much people, but a pathetic excuse for what a human is classified to be. That just because we have talent, were wired to believe that we can have anything we want or act however we wish.

And I hate that people look at me and draw those accusations onto me.

If only they knew that every single day is a constant struggle to figure out who you are, what with all the people who are trying to pinpoint you to a certain category. If they knew a split detail of what it's like to be in the shoes of a person who has so much control over a mass majority of people who look up to them, they'd drop their accusations and rumors and maybe I wouldn't be where I am now.

I've been forced by not only my manager but my producers and my mentors to keep my mouth shut when the media questions me about my relationship with Kayla. Nothing fucking kills me more than hearing her name from random strangers who have an obsession over figuring out what we are to each other.

Sometimes I hate myself for ever bringing her into this world. When I'm bored I'll go off and think of what it would have been like had I kept her separate from my life. That maybe if I'd kept our relationship a secret both she and I would be better off. I don't know. Scooter said thinking of the 'what if's' would drive me crazy, so I kind of stopped thinking about it.

But now she's here, in this town, staying in my house and she's leaving in three days. I have her at the tip of my fingers yet I feel as though she's so far away. I know I'll hate myself if I let her leave back to California without telling her how I feel. But the thing is she knows how I feel. And she's still refrains from even being in the same room as me.

I felt a warm tear roll down my cheek. That had been happening a lot lately.

I miss how it was when we'd go for pointless drives and talk about anything and everything. Stupid stuff, mostly. But she'd laugh and it'd get me to laugh and I loved that she was the one who could make me do that without having to force it. We used to stay in bed for hours in the morning, lying awake and just staying wrapped up in each other. She'd trace my tattoos with the tip of her finger and I swore that nothing was better. I miss her hugs. I miss how she could tell when I was having a bad day without making me tell her about it. I miss that she could get it to go away just by being with me.