Gone || Ashton Irwin

Chapter 12

There are times when I swear my heart stops beating.

Like the whole world just slows down and everything’s hazy. It’s hard to focus on anything or anyone.

The comforting, steady beating of my empty heart doesn’t sound in my chest. I don’t feel thumps. I don’t feel it slamming against my ribcage.

Sometimes I have to feel my pulse to make sure I’m alive.

And even then, I’m not entirely sure.

I can never be sure.

He was the only thing that made me feel alive. His laugh had my heart racing a million miles a minute.

What I’d give to hear that laugh again.

Or to even see him.

It still hasn’t processed after all this time that he’ll never be mine again.

I’ve made too many mistakes. Done too many stupid things. Things he’d never forgive me for. He wouldn’t even be able to look at me without disgust written plainly on his face.

And the thought that the love of my life could hate me so much is absolutely and undeniably heart breaking.

There’s nothing more that I want. It’s just him. But I don’t know when he’ll be back or if he’ll even want to see me. It’s not like he’s sent me any letters or even talked about me. Since he left, I haven’t existed to him.

I’ve come to realize that the worst pain you can feel isn’t being lonely. It’s being forgotten by someone you could never forget.

And that’s exactly what happened to me.

He was the air that I breathed. I’d inhale and exhale with every beat of his heart.

Ironic how he was what took my breath away the most.

And to think that he was all mine. Perfectly and beautifully mine.

But I had to be selfish and try to keep him to myself. My feelings were too important. I couldn’t let anyone else see what I saw. There was no way he could’ve been broken. Not with me by his side.

But he was. He was terribly broken.

And now so am I.

I never thought I’d come to know everything he did, or feel the way he felt. But now I do. I know how difficult it is to get up in the morning. How difficult it is to drag yourself through the day like nothing is wrong, convincing everyone with forced smiles and laughs that are as hollow as you. How it feels like nobody cares about you. How alone and empty you feel.

I know why he tried to cut me out. To make it less painful. It’s better when there isn’t people around to constantly ask how you’re feeling. It’s better to keep it to yourself. To not bother other people with your sob story. To not put your burdens on someone else’s shoulders. Just to say quiet and pull away from people.

And they let you. They just let you cut them out. They don’t even put up a fight. They just let you do it and they’re not even affected by the loss of you. It’s like you never existed. Like you were never there.

And I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to live in a place where he isn’t next to me. I don’t want to live in a world where he’s suffering. Everything would be so much better if I were dead.

So I tried. I tried that night. I mustered up as much strength as I could and I tried. But I was selfish and couldn’t bring myself to do it. With drunken hands and sober tears, I flushed the pills down the toilet and fell asleep curled up on the bathroom floor.

I went to school the next day with a smile on my face.

Oh, if only they knew.