I Should Have Known Better (Sequel to That Boy)

Chapter 12

howdy ho! The beginning is a filler, but it's kinda important not sure, but the rest is kewl

Enjoy!!

Chapter 12: One Last Visit to See Paul Part 1

My apartment was very empty only a few days later, there were boxes that were going to go to family in Liverpool and some back with me to America. And then I had my large suitcase that I would pack most of my clothes in, if not all. 

I had chosen to go back to America. I figured it was time for me too. I couldn't take it anymore. It was a horrifying sight to see my simple presents cause one man pain that neared death. And then I had to go through loosing the child before I could have it, and having my friend get punched because I found out he kind of liked me.

Yeah, it's time for me to go.

So, I set my suitcase on the one of the last things in my apartment, the mattress on the bed frame. I went over to the dresser, which would be picked up later by my aunt, and it was hers so I was just giving it back. 

I opened the bottom drawer, took out the clothes that were already folded and put them in the case with a kind of sad face plastered on. I was sad to be leaving. I would miss my friends, and maybe even Paul. 

I thought about him the whole time I packed my clothes up slowly but surely. I really don't know why, and I should of had my mind on something else, like the train ride or getting hit by a bus but nope. I had to think about him. 

I got to my sock drawer, my last drawer to clean out, and lifted everything out of there. When I walked over to my bed, something slipped from my hand, but I ignored it, think I would just set this shit down and come back for it. I did, spacing all of it into the case and turning around.

I bent over and picked what I thought was a sock, tossing it on top of the suitcase. But when I looked at it again, I realized what it was. 

Without lying, I smiled slightly at it. I shouldn't have but I did. I grabbed the piece of crumpled, forgotten paper and opened it up, reading it's words again. It was the first time he told me he loved me, and that he has for the longest time. 

It was when I realized I loved him, but I'm not so sure anymore you know. At least, I know I don't hate him, and I have some sort of sympathy for him I guess. 

I dropped my smile and folded the note back up quickly and put it into the suitcase, before I zipped the thing up quickly. I was done with packing and the flight was scheduled for tomorrow. What to do now? It's only like 8 at night and I wasn't very tired. So, now what?

I came up with something quicker then I would like to say.

After quickly stuffing the back of my car with boxes and suitcases and other shit I'm taking back to America with me, I got in the car. I had one thing left to do that night, before I would probably return home to sleep some before going to catch my train. 

I continually reasoned with myself I as I drove, trying to show that was I was doing was the right thing to do and that I wasn't crazy. I was just going over to explain everything to him, just to tell him about the baby and all that. Then I will leave. 

I'll leave and everything will go back to normal, like it was before I came back to Liverpool, Right?

I'm sure you can guess by now that things are never that simple. Especially when it involves Paul and me. 

It felt like the blink of an eye and I was in front of that house again. I vowed to myself that this would be the last time I would go to this stupid house and see him.