I'm Not Leaving // lrh

55 || i feel so alone on a friday night, is it by mistake or design?

brooklyn, new york
7:00pm

A

I hate the silence of my empty apartment.

It makes it that much harder to avoid what's bothering me. There's only half a bedroom. One bathroom. Little to no walls. And there's not much I can fiddle with to distract myself.

I actually did end up crying, finally. Scream sobbing. Red face. In the pillow. And for what felt like a really long time.

I used to do it all the time. I used to bite on a pillow, kneeling on the floor of my closet back in my parents house Boston. I'd hold onto my elbows or the pillow itself and just scream cry in the dark with the door closed and the lights off. But I haven't felt the need to break down like this in a long time. I'm trying not to let that fact scare me.

This was one of those new feelings I dreaded. Fighting with Luke and knowing he's probably just as hurt as me. Not angry.

I finally got around to turning my phone on and leaving it on. And once I did, I saw fifty missed calls from Luke and a couple more from the rest of the group. I have a couple of voicemails and a couple more unseen texts.

And on Instagram, Michael proposed to Crystal during a beautiful sunset and they both look so fucking happy.

And I fucking missed it. I got into a stupid thing with Luke and I missed one of my best friends getting engaged.

Michael sent me a message, that I missed, when I got back from Spain. He told me how much he really wanted me in Bali. And he couldn't wait.

And I obviously missed my flight and didn't go. I ignored everyone. And now I have to live with knowing I missed one of my best friends proposals. It's a worse feeling than I could've ever imagined. But in a way I'm glad I wasn't there anyway. I don't think I would've been able to enjoy the moment mid fight with Luke. And I wouldn't have wanted to take any attention away from Michael and Crystal on one of the happiest days of their lives either.

I cried because I miss Luke too. And harder because when I called back, he didn't answer me either. I hate myself for shutting him out. I hate myself for turning my phone off in high pressure situations. I really hate that I can't call Jesse because I'm mad at her too, and tell her to come hold me until this weird cry thing passes.

Photos of Nate and I after drinks got released and of course that must've added fuel to Luke's fire. And now he has his own reasons for not wanting to talk to me either.

But duty called. I guess.

I smoothed the material of my dress, a black long sleeve with an impossibly low back. I saw an old movie once and this blonde actress had on something similar. So I did my best to recreate it as a prototype of what to wear to the perfume party. But it didn't make the cut.

So Shay and I tailored this dress, this morning when we snuck into the office earlier than usual. I used a hair crimped to give my hair some type of texture and to make it look like I spent hours on it when I really spent fifteen minutes.

When Jane told me what restaurant Madame and Demna picked out, we knew we had to go all out. It was brand new, impossible to get a reservation at, and on the upper east side. I packed a couple smokes and my lipstick into a tiny vintage Prada bag.