A Walk Through Hell (Boyxboy)

Chapter 25- Unconditionally

I couldn't comprehend much of what happened the following week. I might have slept. I might have eaten. I might have stared at the blank white wall in the guest bedroom fo hours. Who knew? My therapist told me it was unnatural, how hard I was taking the break up. Told me I needed to get my priorities in order. Number my thoughts. Figure out what really mattered. But nothing mattered. Not without Shane.

I even found one of his shirts. It smelled like him. I had worn it to bed three nights in a row and I freaked out when it stopped smelling like him and started smelling like me. I'd torn up the room in search of another, but Max had come in. He stopped me, grabbing my wrists. Telling me to calm down. Five nights in a row he had to hold me like a baby just to have me fall asleep. I wasn't used to it. To having someone who gave a shit. He was right there whenever I needed him.

Lizzie even started being nicer. She made me soup. It was nothing like Shane's since she got hers out of the cans, but it was comforting. She even watched TV with me and let me cry on her shoulder whenever something happened that resembled Shane.

One day, we were watching Easy A, one of her favorite movies and I started crying so hard that she had to pause it because she couldn't hear over my sobs. She patted my back and mumbled consoling things to me. But when my crying lightened up, she said something that made it hard to breath. "I didn't want to bring this up, but that day you two fought, all I could hear was the shouting. No words. Sort of reminds me of my mom and dad before they split. They looked for any reason to blame each other. I just wonder sometimes...if they had only critiqued themselves, would they still had to wonder if they missed out on each other?" I just started crying harder, keeping quiet this time.

"I think the reason Max has put up with your tears and episodes is because he was so sad the first three months, he sent me to live with my mom. Every other weekend, I'd come here and he'd randomly start crying while cooking dinner. Or he'd play with his ring. He should have sold it, but I think he still has it. And whenever he sees my mom, he's polite. He smiles and kisses her on the cheek. Says high to her new husband whos half her age. He's happy that she's happy. That's a lot of love. He loved her a lot. And you love Shane a lot. Or this wouldn't hurt. I want to know what unconditional love feels like. To love someone through everything. I've never been in love. Not like you or dad. I want someone to love me like you love Shane and Max loves my mom. She's fucking terrible but he still sends her Christmas cards. Shane hurt you and you still waste tears on him."

I shook my head. "Love sucks. It hurts. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of you. And when it ends its never a clean break. Shane told me he loved me and that he'd never find another like me. He kissed me. Took my breath away. And now its like he was just a whisper. Just a good memory. A memory I want to relive."

"Lunch," Max shouted from the kitchen. My nose was so stuffed up I couldn't smell anything. I stood and walked with Lizzie into the kitchen. Sub sandwiches. At least it would be easy to eat. Just as Max was putting chips on all of the plates and Lizzie was grabbing soda from the fridge, the doorbell rang. I didn't want to answer it. My eyes were red, I was wearing really baggy sweat pants and a tear streaked t-shirt. But Max gave me a pointed look, so I went to the door, swinging it open slowly, shyly.

Shane. With a huge brown box taped shut stood with glassy eyes and a beanie over his dirty blonde hair. I wasn't as strong as him, forcing a fake smile on my lips. I covered my mouth and stepped back from the door as If I had just been shot through the heart. And I had, in a way. I let out a whimper just as Max came to the door. He took one look at Shane and took the box, and they whispered a couple things back and forth. I watched, sinking to my butt against the wall. Shane's eyes kept landing on me, as if he was having a hard time looking away from the mess he helped to create.

He turned, and I stood, but before I could do anything stupid, like run out of the door and hold onto one of his legs until he promised to take me back, Max pulled me to him, shutting the door. "Let him go, Zander. Let him go." I sobbed into his shoulder. "I can't. I can't." I started whispering. My voice was giving up. I had to stop crying one of these days. He led me to the stairs and sat down. He patted the spot next to him. I sat as he set the box on the floor.

I turned to him, wiping my tears on the bottom of my shirt. "How did you do it? Get over your ex wife?" He shrugged. "I don't know. It hurts and it hurts and it hurts. Then one day you'll wake up and it won't hurt as bad anymore. You have to make it to that day. Once it passes, you'll know you'll be alright." I let out a shaky breath. "But I don't want to feel like this! I just want to stop loving him. Or get him back." He rubbed circles into my back. "There's no proper way to do that. You just have to go through the motions. Push until you can't anymore. Me and my ex wife...we didn't love each other as much as you and Shane love each other. So I don't know what you're going through. I just know its terrible."

I pointed to the box. "What is it?" He sighed. "I guess its some stuff he wanted you to have." I shook my head. "I don't want it." I said. He frowned. "Why?" I shrugged. "It will smell like him. My room already smells like him. I don't want to be reminded."

"Well what do you propose I do with it?" He asked me. I shrugged. "Get rid of it, throw it out." He shook his head. "No. Look through it. One of the first steps to getting over someone is acceptance." He patted my knee and got up, walking into the kitchen after muttering, "Come eat lunch first. Then you can go through it."

***

I decided that because I needed privacy, I'd take the box in my old room. It was completely empty save for a couple items here and there on the floor. A forgotten shirt, a misplaced shoe. I sat in the middle of the room. Staring at the light brown stain on the carpet. Where I spilled my blood. It seemed like a life time ago. Max had told me he trusted me whole heartedly when he handed me the box cutter.

I used it carefully, cutting the tape so the box would be open. I peeled back the flaps to reveal the hoodie I loved so much. It was a simple hoodie. Man Overboard. I remember Shane telling me it had been the best concert if his life. They were amazing performers. I went to see them once. They were great on stage. It was his favorite hoodie. But he stopped wearing it so that it would be ready for me to wear whenever I was cold. He usually kept it in his room. By the door on his dresser.

I took it out and hugged it to my chest. I smelled it, and I was unsurprised to find out it smelled like him. I let a lone tear fall onto the soft fabric. The next few items were just articles of clothing I left behind. Shirts, pants, underwear. He had washed them for me. Then a couple CD's. Our favorites. We had spent countless hours in multiple stores searching for music we both liked. Which consisted of Of Mice & Men, All Time Low, The Story So Far, and Tigers Jaw.

The last thing was a blanket I remembered bringing there, with no memory of why. I sat in the middle of the floor, next to an old blood stain surrounded by things that made my lip quaver because they all mean so much to me. Tiny pieces or our time together. Those CD's played through speakers in his living room a number of times. I wore his hoodie and nothing else whenever I woke up and didn't feel like getting dressed. My clothes a reminder of all of the sex we had. Rushed or not. They were all fucking special.

And I fucking missed him so much I couldn't handle it.

~uploaded on christmas

named after unconditionally by katy perry