All I Want

21

I got home and the only thought I could process was the letter, the tears and mostly, the aching I was feeling in my heart. There was also a hole in the pit of my stomach and as I walked over to my room, all I could feel was emptiness. There wasn't the feeling I felt every day for the past days. I shut the door behind me and threw myself on the bed. I stared at the ceiling before daring to read the letter. I took a deep breath and got it out of my purse. I sat down. My hair was falling on my face, so I tucked a strand behind my ear.

Hey Taylor,

I don't even know where to start. This is attempt two, I hope it's the final one.

I chuckled. I kept reading. 

The thing is, I don't want to say goodbye. I have a feeling I'll be calling you after reading your letter, but let's be honest here, I can't. This letter will be the last thing you'll hear from me. Hopefully your letter will be the last thing I hear from you, because I don't want to keep hurting.

I love you Taylor. I let you get under my skin and I can't simply wash off the feeling of your touch or the taste of your lips. I've tried. I've tried to get over you before actually getting over you, just to make the whole thing a lit bit easier, but I've failed. I wonder a lot about your future, the one without me. Will he make you happy? 

I started sobbing.

Will he actually get an honest laugh out of you? I try really hard on a daily basis not to think about that, because the more I think of it, the more I want it to be with me. Because yes, I know I said we weren't destined for a happy ending, but damn it, I wish it were the other way around. I'm not good at writing, in fact, I'm terrible. I'm trying my best to get decent words out of me. I'm trying to get everything that I'm thinking right now, but it's too much. I have too many thoughts and so little space and time for them.

I started to think about his laugh and the way it could me laugh too. A tear splattered on my hand, I let go of the letter and walked over to the bathroom. I grabbed some paper towel and cleaned my face. I had mascara running down my cheeks and the whole situation felt awful. Inside out. I gave one quick glance at the mirror and went back to the bed. I held the letter in my hands again and took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears from falling. I kept reading.

I could say a lot of things I love about you, but what I love most is your positive attitude. Since the very start you were positive about us, even though it ended in flames, you kept strong. Let's be freaking honest here, you are the strongest of us. And that in fact, makes me a little bit stronger. 

I want you. I'll always want you. Even if hurricanes circle around us, even if earthquakes shatter us apart or even if the sky falls right on us. Even then, I'll want you more. Please never forget that and the impact you've made in my life. I'll always carry you with me and what we shared. The thought of you will always remain intact in my heart, I won't let anything or anyone stain what we meant for each other. I hope you do the same. I love you.

"Oh my God," I sobbed. I couldn't stop the tears from falling. It was like cascades falling out of my eyes. And my heart? I could barely feel it. A sudden knock on the door interrupted. "Come in." I wiped the tears out of my face, trying to not let anyone show I just broke down into a thousand different pieces. 

"Hey!" It was Conor. He stormed into the room with a ear-to-ear smile and I tried to give one back, but it was a hypocrite one. He couldn't tell, or that's what I wanted to believe. I hid the letter under one of the pillows, really fast. I don't think he noticed. He was too busy smiling. "How's my favorite girl in the world?" I pressed my lips together, as I watched him sit down next to me. 

"I'm a bit tired, I gave out the invitations today." 

"Oh yeah, Lily told me about your small talk today." She was his best friend, of course she did.

"Uh," I cleared my throat. "She did?"

"Yeah and I think she's right. We should meet up with an interior designer. Actually, she made us the favor."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused. 

"She called Sarah and we have an appointment tomorrow." I couldn't even pretend to smile, but he was, he was smiling. I was starting to feel really bad for him, but hey, it's his fault I'm being forced to marry him. The thought escaped my mind immediately and in that moment, all I could feel was anger. 

"We don't even know what house are we living in." I complained.

"I bought a house for us in L.A, it's beautiful, it's your dream house." He answered. He had that smiling situation going on, still.

"You don't even know what my dream house is."

"You've said you want one with a big pool, an even bigger garden and an amazing view. It's room enough for both of us, our future kids and our parents if they want to go visit." 

"Conor, slow down a bit." I got up from the bed and walked over to the bathroom.

"I can't fucking slow down, we're getting married in less than a month," He stopped me from walking, clutching onto my arm. "Don't say you're getting cold feet." 

"I'm not, I just had a bad day okay? Why don't we talk about this tomorrow? Over lunch?" He licked the side of his lips and nodded. He did that whenever he was mad. I didn't blame him, but I couldn't blame myself either.