Protect Me Forever

Meeting The Bad Boy

Love is a powerful thing. Love is the feeling that you would do anything for that person. Love is the feeling when you would do anything just to see them smile or be happy. Love is when you immediately miss their presence when they walk out of the door. Love is the situation I'm in right now. Sitting on my bed, I start to feel my eyes turn into fragile glass for the millionth time today. Tears slide down my cheeks, as one salty drop finds its way into my mouth. As I taste the saltiness, I put the note down. At this point, I've memorized every word of it.

I love you so much, baby, and that's why I'm leaving. You. Right now. Don't be mad. Don't be sad. Just remember me, that's all I ask. Every word I've ever said to you, I meant it. You're leaving, and I can't bear the pain for when you do, so that's why I've left this note for you. I need you to know, when you're in trouble, think of me. Even if I'm not there, I will always be here for you. You're leaving this state, and I can't think of life without you. There's no point in living anymore. Don't scream baby, I don't want it to end like this. I'll never see you again, because I'm dead. Or atleast I'm going to be. I love you, Sid. Forever and always.

Love,

Mike

I cried and sobbed for hours, while packing my suitcase. Tears stained the black fabric that covered the suitcase. I packed the necessities to take while driving to Kentucky. Southern Florida, to Kentucky is a pretty far drive in hours.

I walked into my bathroom, continuing to sob and cry. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I needed to do something. I packed all my lotions, but then I forgot my sweatshirts, my savior in life. Opening my sweatshirt drawer, I'm immediately hit with his scent. I opened the wrong drawer. Looking over all the layers of his sweatshirts, I smelled each and every one of them. They all smelled like him.

I thought the crying was over, but I guess not. I rummaged through the shirts, and picked them all up.

Running downstairs, with my breathing heavy, I walked over to the fireplace.

I can't believe that I'm going to burn these. These are the only things that I have left of him. He was my love. He was my one and only, but I just can't believe that he left me.

Walking over to the fireplace, I took one last sniff of his sweatshirt, and then threw it in. I was immediately hit with her presence.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I knew my mom was behind me. Throwing more of the scented goodness in the flames, my mom finally spoke.

"Honey, what are you doing?" She asked. Oh God, I love my mom. She has always been there for me. She knows everything about me, even my harsh break up. But sadly, she's gone all the time for business and work related trips.

"Throwing some of his things out. He left me. He left me, and it hurts more than I thought it would." I said, turning around. I saw her face soften, and the wrinkles on her face now became more subtle. Her silky blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, and she looked not sorry, but helpless.

"I don't know what he did to you, honey, but it's time to leave." She said, grabbing the remote, and switching off the tv. Walking by me, she touched my shoulder, and switched the light off. She gave me a sad smile before leaving me hopeless in the room.

A Few Days Later

We drove into what would be my new driveway. Stepping out of the car, I looked at our house. It was medium sized, a tad bigger than our last home. It was a greyish house, with beautiful navy blue window sills and gutters, but hey, so far so good.

Looking over at my neighbors, I then realized that our house is pretty average for the neighborhood.

Across the street from me stood a guy. He looked around my age; 18. He definitely went to my school, which terrified me, because he was just like my ex. He had shaggy black hair, with deep blue eyes. He was washing his car, probably what he thought was his baby. He had no shirt on, which showed off his perfect six-pack, and he wore some dark wash jeans that hung low on his waist. Who wears jeans when they wash a car?