How to Love You

25

October 16

I swear I believed you were just another hallucination from my lack of sleep, as you strutted through the front door with a stone cold expression this morning. You barely gave me a second glance, even though it was evident my eyes seeped exhaustion and my face was utterly drowsy. You either didn't notice, which is highly unlikely, or you just didn't care. With your recent behavior, such as spitefully making love to Matt in the room right next to me, yelling at my mom that you never loved me, and missing one of our new traditions, I'm going to have to say you don't care.

You simply walked to the kitchen table, sat down, and began scrolling through your phone nonchalantly, as if you hadn't just ruthlessly ignored my presence a few feet away.

"Hi," I weakly spoke to gain your attention. You looked up, momentarily, from your phone and angrily scoffed in annoyance.

"Oh, so you can talk now?" You sarcastically remarked, shaking your head and returning to your incessant Instagram scrolling.

"Dani, what do you mean?" I took leisurely steps toward you, my legs wobbling under my anxiousness. You never spoke to me in this tone, never mind being so belligerent of my feelings. The whole situation felt even worse, considering I had no idea what I did and you really didn't care to elaborate much.

"When that women was insulting me, you just stood there. Aren't friends supposed to defend each other?" You stood up from the kitchen counter, violently letting the chair fall over and crash onto the ground. I rushed to your aid to ensure you weren't hurt, placing a tender hand on your shoulder.

"Please relax, baby." I sighed, words involuntarily spilling out of my mouth. I hadn't even realized I had called you a sweet nickname, until a disgusted look lit up your face. Calling you those names has always just been adapted into our relationship, it was similar to a habit; I never had to even think twice about calling you baby before.

"Get away from me, Chase. I really don't want to talk to you right now. You're just lucky all my stuff is here, or I seriously wouldn't have came back." You spat, glaring me down, and then, vanishing into our bedroom with an over-exaggerated slammed door to once again prove you were enraged.

My body slumped back into the couch that I wish I could just disappear in right now and never return. Sometimes, I feel like it wouldn't even matter if I simply fell off the face of the earth. Yeah, of course, people would question where I went, but my absence would only be the hot topic of gossip for a few days. Then, every few years, people would hear my name and be reminded that I even existed at all, except no one would truly care that I had I gone missing. Because, truth of the matter is, I'm insignificant in nearly everybody's life.

It doesn't help that moments later I heard you crying from our bedroom and begging your boyfriend to let you stay at his apartment.