on the first page of our story the future seemed so bright
~•~
"Jason?" I called out as I walked out of our shared bedroom. "Babe, where are you?" Walking down the stairs, I could hear the TV talking in the living room. Turning around the corner, I found my lovely boyfriend passed out on the black, leather couch.
It most definitely wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep.
"Jason," shaking his shoulder, I squatted down by the couch, so I could be eye level with his sleeping figure. "Baby, wake up."
Slowly, but surely few moments later he slowly opened his eyes. A small smile forming upon his lips the moment he saw me. "What time is it?" he groggily asked.
"Something after two a.m.," I was still squatting next to the couch. "Why don't you come to bed?"
Lately he had been falling asleep on the couch a lot. Nine out of ten times he didn't even make it upstairs to the bedroom. I was starting to worry that maybe it's because of me. He also hasn't shown any interest in having sex or anything. So far I've just been pushing it off for the fact that he's been working on some major deal with the guys. That was also his explanation for why he's home so late, when I had asked him about it.
Getting up from the couch, I turned the TV off and taking his hand, we walked upstairs. Jason automatically falling on the bed. Sighing I walked over to his side and proceeded to get him out of his jeans and t-shirt, leaving him only in his boxers. Crawling in the space next to him, he wrapped his arm around me.
♛
In the morning as always, I woke up alone; to an empty bed. It's sad to say, but by now I was used to it. I was used to waking up alone and going to sleep alone. Sometimes I honestly felt like I'm not even in a relationship.
Jason was always busy with the gang. It really made me think, why did he even ask me to be his girlfriend in the first place.
But it's not like things were always this bad. In the first year of our relationship, he was always there in the morning and in the evening. Our sex life was really active. But as our two year anniversary neared, he started to get so distant, to the point where his cologne is the only thing reminding me of him.
Getting out of the bed, I headed downstairs. The house felt so empty and big without him here. Technically the house was big, but that's besides the point. And it wasn't even mine. It belonged to Jason.
When I met him I was living in a one bedroom, almost a studio, apartment in downtown. After a while of us dating, he suggested I move in with him. That way we can actually be together and neither of us have to go across town to see the other. But who would've thought that I would end up spending most of my time here alone? Definitely not me.
People told me that he's no good, that's he's trouble, but I didn't listen. I didn't listen because Jason never made me feel that he might be bad for me or that I shouldn't be with him.
Yeah, he told me what he does for a living. He let me know himself what I'm getting myself into and I still agreed. It was probably something to do with the little fact that I can't say "no" to him. He just makes you feel so special and when he looks at you, like you're the rarest gem of them all...
Putting the little coffee pot in the coffee machine, I waited as my coffee filled up with the dark, caffeinated drink.
I liked my coffee, like I liked my men - dark and hot.
*** here's a playlist with songs that go along with this story
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