10. Nothing Different

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Jack

One week later

Nothing. Nothing makes me original, nothing makes me different. I'm just another sad lonely boy with a guitar. I sigh let out a heavy sigh, rolling on to my side in my twisted bedsheets. I don't know how to feel about it really. I mean, it goes like this:

Pro: Zach never gave up on you.

Con: Zach never gave up on you because he never wanted you in the first place.

I just... I feel so small. I don't want to feel like this anymore. Anywhere he went, whatever he did, I would have followed him, been there for him. I could have been the one... but he doesn't want me.

The thing that destroys me the most, is that I actually thought he could ever love me. I'm a joke. I'm a joke, and I'm sorry I'm not good enough, Zach. He hasn't given up on me, and I haven't given up on him. Its sad how different the same thing is. I should give up, I know I should, I just...can't.

Wow, honestly, what am I even on about? I'm worthless. Nothing about me matters. I'm the problem. Zach's been getting awfully close to Jonah lately, so obviously his sexuality isn't the problem; its me. It's horrible, disgusting, fat, ugly, worthless me.

I should let it go... let him go... yet still, my stupid, pointless heart still beats for him. He resides in there, he always has, always will. He stays in my broken heart. Through the pain, the heartbreak, the love... through it all.

Sometimes it's all I have left - the only thing that stops me from feeling numb. The pain he causes me is the only thing that keeps me alive. Pathetic, I know, but true. I sigh, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. I don't want to be worth nothing. I want life to give me a purpose, even if it's a small insignificant one. I just want something.

I want to be better. To be good. I'll never be good enough for Zach, but I might be good enough for someone. If I can't be happy, why should I waste my meaningless life on myself, when I can use it making someone else happy?

I sit up in my bed, on the brim of a great thought. I looked over to my stand next to my bed and grabbed my phone, looking through my contacts, before I spot the name I had been looking for. I stare at it for a minute, contemplating, my finger hovering over the call button. I make up my mind, calming myself through nervous shaky breaths, before finally pushing it. It rings twice before I hear a voice.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Hey.."

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐲 ✔️Where stories live. Discover now