Love Sucks

Love Sucks - 19

There's not much to say this week, so I'll just give ya the darn story =D

Chapter nineteen;

I couldn't sleep all night. I listened to the rain pour down heavily onto my window, the drumming of it the only sound I could hear. Every time I closed my eyes, I could only see Stonehenge. I could only see the betrayal, replaying over and over in my head as if shoving it down my throat.

Why should such a thing have upset me like it did? Why should I have let myself shed tears over such an arrogant monster?

I said it myself.

I cared too much. But why? Why should I care about him, when he didn't care about me?

"Who said he didn't care about you?" My voice taunted. It was silent for a little while as I pondered this, but it cut in my trail of thoughts; "Nah, you're right. He doesn't really care about you. Why should he?"

"Will you leave me alone already?" I thought back.

I turned onto my side, the red rose lying absently on my bedside table. I gnawed my lip as I stared at the silky-smooth petals. For a whole hour, I had lay on this very bed sobbing my heart out clutching that very rose. I glanced down at my already-scarred hand, to see the small puncture wounds from where the thorns had dug into my flesh.

I sighed to myself. I lifted up the flower to check the time - 4:30am and I hadn't slept a single wink. I didn't find myself needing to. I got off the bed, my legs feeling stiff. My stomach growled loudly, so I silently tiptoed out of the safety and comfort of my bedroom and into the pitch black hall, feeling my way downstairs into the kitchen.

Once I'd turned on the light, I grabbed myself a bowl of Shreddies and sat at the island table, my mind elsewhere and wandering.

Did I regret talking to Alex the way I did?

Would he come back, not meaning what he said when he told me to go?

Why the hell did I even say that?!

It was only then that I realised I had brought the rose downstairs with me. It lay motionless, ruby red and beautiful on the island table next to my bowl of cereal. I finished my cereal, and pushed the bowl away from myself, pulling the rose in its place. The thorns had a drop of dried blood on from where I had bled a little on them, and the petals were smooth under my finger tips. One shed onto the wooden surface, and I winced, not believing I had ruined such beauty.

You're probably thinking, 'it's just a rose, why all the fuss?' but it's not just a rose. It's extraordinary in so many ways, yet so simple and fragile. I guess you could say it meant something to me - I found myself wanting to see Alex and thanking him for the rose, if it was from him.

It must have been - on the card was written the exact sentence he had said to me many hours ago. No one else was around, so no one else would know we even had a conversation... hate-filled on my part.

But he was so bipolar!

"And you're not?" My voice retorted harshly.

"No," I mumbled aloud.

"You're just as bad as he is, princess. Liking him one minute, hating him the next..."

I ignored the voice, though I knew it was right. But what was that saying...?

Oh yeah.

Treat others how you want to be treated.

Alex is nice to me, I'm nice back. Alex is nasty to me, I'm nasty back.

It's the cycle we live in. I've adjusted this past month I've known him... But maybe we were over, full stop. Maybe he really meant it when he said he wasn't stopping me if I left.