last resort | ryden

6

~~~~~do i love him?~~~~~

mornings. i hate them.
waking up next to Adam is like the biggest slap in the face.
his face was on my chest, hands tightly clenched, making me flinch.
he's asleep you idiot he can't hurt you-
brent shifted in his sleep and my heart shifted into my throat.
-have you ever had that feeling when you think you have lost something, and you get a blinding panic (!) ?
but then you found what you were looking for and you breathed a sigh of relief because everything is okay! it's all okay and now that's in the past because you can go on with your life now.
but that never happened.
the panic (!) that's what it was like every day.

every fucking morning.

a reminder that i was still with him, that it wasn't some horrific dream and i would wake up in Brendon's arms with him kissing the back of my head soothingly, and then i'd kiss back and it would feel so right and it was such a mistake, that day when everything had gone wrong and i had found Brendon in a club, sleeping next to some girl, and i felt so betrayed, but i would rather see that every day than this.

i looked at the clock, hoping it was early and he wouldn't wake up yet.
neon lights shone back at me; 05:17.

i sighed in relief. i could go to work in some sort of peace.
i had never been an early riser, until these past few years.
i guess sleeping in used to be my way of making up the time i got yelled at by my dad the night before.
i never really got away from my dad, i realised. it was the same person in a different body, with adam.
but my dad was gone in the morning, and brendon was there through it all.
this was a constant.
maybe that was another reason, that it was so easy to break up with brendon.
everything in my life besides him was already at rock bottom.
i was a mess,
and he was perfect.
why would he want me?
why would he want me now, if i ever managed to escape Adam?
i'm just a bigger mess.
why was i thinking about loving brendon all of a sudden?
and why brendon?
what about adam?
as i got ready, the same words kept swirling in my mind.
do i love adam?
did i ever love adam?
i certainly felt some sort of attraction towards him when he found me, alone at a party, standing in a corner and drinking as much alcohol as my system would allow.
there were nice memories, and then there were horrible ones.
the ones when he yelled too loud, or dropped his bag on the floor too forcefully, or even ate too loudly, it was all an instinct for me to know that things wouldn't be pretty a few hours later. and they usually ended up with me lying naked on the cold bathroom tiles, bruised and often bloody and often burned or scalded from the boiling water or the lighter.
people had tried usually the next door neighbours, before to report the noise of the shattering utensils or the footsteps or the abnormally loud television to cover up the more suspicious sounds.

no one lived next door anymore.

i liked him when we bought a flat together. i liked him when we had our first time, when we had our first, second anniversaries together.
but like is different from love.
friends like each other.
boyfriends love each other.
but boyfriends don't hit each other when they forgot to bring a glass of water upstairs.
well brendon didn't.
family love each other.
but family don't hit each other when they've had one too many drinks.
do they?
was drunk love even real love?

i wrote adam a quick note, my handwriting sloppy and slanted due to my hand shaking so much.

i rewrote it five times.

after slipping out of the flat, i finally felt slightly calmer.
the panic (!) never truly left, only lessened occasionally when i was away from him. the only time i remember being safe was in brendon's arms, his arms wrapped around me, his smile warming me, hot breath giving me goose- pimples, my chin resting on his head and my hands fisted in that absolutely stupid but sort of endearing lavender hoodie, soft lips pressed against my shoulder, smooth hair tickling my neck, strong but slim fingers wrapping around my wrist gently-
no.
no.
not this again.
stop it ryan. he's not coming back, he's not going to, because you had to be a stupid idiot and jump to ridiculous conclusions and it's your fault, you brought this on yourself, if you weren't such a whiny, annoying boyfriend this wouldn't have happened so you can hardly complain about it if it's all your fault because he's gone he's gone he has gone he's gone brendon is gone

BRENDON IS FUCKING GONE AND HES NOT COMING BACK.
ever.
ever.
ever.
why would he want to ?
he has a new album.
new friends.
new band members.
he doesn't want you back.

until... was that-
-no it couldn't be-
-it was a daydream, a sleep deprived nightmare-
-i hadn't seen him-
-no no no no no no no this wasn't real-
that wasn't him it wasn't-
-i was daydreaming-
-it was all wrong no not right now-
-not while i was stuck with adam-
-this wasn't real-
-brendon urie's car certainly wasn't sat outside my block of flats, and that wasn't him getting into his car, and that wasn't him pulling away-

i ducked down in my car, earning a strange look but no comment from the woman with a baby on her hip and  lugging a bag of laundry, or the one crossing the road with a backpack covered in patches with purple hair, or the teenage boy with choppy black hair, cigarette in one hand.
but no glance from brendon urie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~