Expensive Mistakes

I knew that as soon as the words "Then why don't you just leave then!" left my mouth, he really would be gone. I watched as tears filled his eyes, and in a rush, he whipped around and left out of the door without another word. Since I was still seething with rage at the time, it took a good few hours to realize that he truly may not come back home to me. I had been sitting on the couch when the thought occurred to me. The thought that I may never see him again, or hear him sing to me again hit me like a truck. He had to leave before I realized just how much he meant to me. It was then that my eyes were opened to all that I had neglected or was too dumb to see.
Not too long after that thought ran its course through my mind, the depression set in. For days, I laid curled up in my bed, crying until my eyes could produce no more tears. Dry sobs would rack my body, and I found myself shivering more often than not. I had become truly pathetic. That was my second realization. The realization that he, Stuart, is what held me together for so long. He was all that kept me from falling apart. I found myself turning to all that I had left; alcohol. The bitter taste of the liquor was something I had become accustomed to over the years, but I'd be lying if I said the initial taste didn't make me cringe a little. I pressed my lips to the bottle, taking sip after sip, until there was nothing more within the glass bottle. I'd throw it to the floor when I was done, and I would be met with the sound of shattering glass as it hit the hard ground.
I stopped keeping track of the days a while after that. Empty bottles and shattered glass was scattered throughout my already messy bedroom, and my hair was greasy and matted from days of not showering. My stomach growled, as that was another part of myself that had been completely ignored. I had been enveloped; trapped by depression's webs, and it was causing me to deteriorate quickly under its constant presence in my life. "I'd better eat," I thought to myself, "it has been a while since the last time you did." I tried to think of the last time I had eaten, but all of the past several days seemed to blur together into a mess of tears and liquor. My phone buzzed suddenly, and I was startled out of my dazed state. I took a shaky breath as I recollected myself and picked my phone up, squinting my eyes at the bright screen I hadn't bothered to look at in the past several days. I scanned over the notifications that had piled up over the time I had ignored my phone. Some were pointless things that were didn't matter, but a certain name written across the screen caught my attention. "Stuart." is what the screen read. I allowed my gaze to drop further to see what he had said.
Turns out he had not sent only one, but close to ten messages over the last few days. "Talk to me, muds. Please, i'm worried. Call me." That was the most recent of them. The other texts just under that one read messages akin to "Hey, i'm really sorry. Call me, please? I miss you." Tears stung my eyes, and I felt compelled to answer him, to tell him that I missed him, too. I lurched my finger towards the notification, but I stopped myself. Even after the depression and hurt, my pride stopped me from answering the man that I loved. The one that I wanted back just as much as he wanted me back.
My days had reached an all time low when I heard a knock at the door. It took a moment for me to register that someone had even come to visit. I slowly staggered out of the bed and threw on some slightly cleaner clothes as I walked towards the door to the apartment in which i lived. On my way to the door, I tried to fix my still greasy and bedraggled hair some to make myself look more presentable. As I opened the door, I was met with the face of the man that I loved, the one I had missed so much. He looked slightly disheveled, and his lip quivered as he gazed at me. He broke out into a small smile before quickly bringing me into his slender arms. It took me almost no time to return his embrace, hugging him like I would never see him again. I swept him from his feet and carried him inside, where I sat him down on the couch.
"I'm so sorry," I began, my mouth flooded with apologies. He stopped me by placing a hand on my thigh. "No, Murdoc. Don't apologize to me. I shouldn't have left in the first place. What we were fighting about was petty, anyways." I gave him a half smile and pulled him onto my lap, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I just missed you, alright? I'm so glad that you came home." my voice cracked some as I said this, and I could feel the emotional numbness I had felt begin to melt away as I held him. He turned some to see me better, and it was then that I promised I wouldn't lose control of myself like that again. I cupped his cheek gently with one hand and pulled him closer, our lips connecting in a sweet kiss; it was yet another thing about him that I missed. He was always so gentle and sweet. "I would love to kiss you again and again until I can't anymore," he started, "But you really need to shower, Muds. Looks like you haven't done that in a while." I laughed softly and nodded. "I'll certainly get to that, love. I just had to welcome you home first."