You're A Mess || Tony Perry ✔️

viii

Is it plain to see, that life is trying me?
Ohh, life is trying me!
Life is trying

I spoke too goddamn soon.
What came next snapped me in half like a twig being pulled of a tree.
My mind was a mess,
I was a mess,
My priorities were a mess,
She was a mess.

Life is a twisted game that can go horribly wrong. But it was a 50% chance, because on the other side of the spectrum there was hope. Happiness, love and family is what the remaining 50% offered, making the two routes polar opposites. It was either rainbows or darkness. There was no in between, no shortcuts.

When the guys found out, they were crushed. And they didn't even know the girl. It was purely out of pity and I didn't want any of that. It was evident. The proof was there. But I was too fucking selfish to check on her.

She was my sun, my main source of light, but also my moon - delivering an alternate form of brightness, but still as beautiful.

We were about twelve, and her mum had gone into the city for reasons correlated to her work, and she left us at home - alone - for about 5 hours.
We decided to be 'grown ups' and have a party, but strictly vip only. It ended up only being us - although none of us complained - and we had the best time ever. We danced to Blink-182, The Offspring, Green Day, Taking Back Sunday and even some Eminem. Her mother came home and found her house in a state that she didn't believe two pre-teens were capable of, but we did it. And we owned it.

On her eighteenth, I took her out to a fancy restaurant, because her boyfriend had dumped her the day before. At first she was hesitant to have fun, but we ended up getting kicked out. After the meal of course!

Her 23rd was much different. She was dating a famous pop star at the point and they were 'really happy together' - said one of the magazines that every stereotypical teenager has in their room. But I knew what was going on. And it wasn't a fairytale romance like they made it out to be. He wanted her for her body, and she didn't even find him relatively attractive. I snuck into her apartment that night, only to find her sobbing on the kitchen floor. We fell asleep on her couch, our limbs entangled together.

Then there was the last day I saw her - about two years prior. She came, soaking wet, shivering and wearing a t-shirt. We talked non stop about all the small things we could converse about. Minus the weather. She brushed me off when I hugged her - after her panic attack.  We fell asleep in different rooms. She didn't feel comfortable sharing with me.