The Internship

Chapter Twenty-Two

1:44 am

Tonight's events played in my head time after time and each replay crippled me more. I felt like someone had drilled me into the ground and was pushing down to keep me there. They had absolutely no intentions of letting me get up, or breathe, or think, or stop fucking crying.

But my crying only worsened when I realized that person was me. I was the one destroying myself.

I began pacing around my apartment and kept every damn light on. I had to keep the lights on for when he came back, right?

He would burst through the door with a wide smile and jump into my arms. "It was a joke. That was mean, I'm sorry. But I'm here and never leaving again" he'd say.

But after a few hours I finally admitted to myself that he wasn't coming back.

I lost him.

It made my stomach do flips and I ran into my bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to empty the contents of my stomach. I brushed my teeth and somehow made it into my bathtub with a bottle of vodka.

I began sobbing uncontrollably and pulled at my hair, strands falling into the bathtub around me. I was drowning in sadness as my raspy voice tried to speak.

"I was in love; he wasn't," I whispered. The realization hit me and knocked the air out of my lungs. My breathing quickened while I tried to find a source for oxygen. "I was in love; he wasn't," I said louder. "I WAS IN LOVE; HE WASN'T!" I yelled, my lungs begging for me to stop.

I was collasping under my ruined soul. I had almost thought that he needed me back. But now... now I was here, like this.

I suddenly began to hear rain fall outside.

How fucking cliché.

However, the rain turned to a thunderstorm quick. The trees began swaying and the rain abused the ground. The lightning shot through the sky and the thunder boomed so loud that I could feel it coursing through my veins.

Thunderstorms used to be scary when I was younger. I used to run to my parent's room because the sky was angry at me. But now they were, in a way, soothing. The roar of the sky almost comforted me. It felt good to know that sometimes even the sky has to scream.

I kept drinking my vodka as I tried to think of what I could've done better. For starters, I shouldn't have fucking brought it up in the first place. He was trying his hardest and I came after him. I didn't want to blame Kirstie, I couldn't. She was just trying to help. Besides, it was my fault. I should've fought harder. I should not have let him walk away. And now he's not mine because I fucked up.

But then I thought of the solution. I hopped out of the tub, which was a bad combination with my current state. Stars appeared and my bathroom began spin. I grabbed onto the counter for support.

"I'm going to get my baby back," I whispered.

Once I could see straight, I called a taxi.

I bounced on the balls of my feet while I waited for it to arrive, and practically sprinted to it once it did.

"Hi!" I said breathlessly. I gave him Mitch's address and nervously played with my fingers. The drive could not have felt longer and I was more than happy when we finally arrived.

I ran up the stairs, not trusting the elevator to be fast enough. I banged on the door, not caring if I woke his neighbors because I was getting my baby back. Nothing else in the world mattered.

I had my speech planned, but when I saw him I forgot it instantly. He was wearing sweatpants and no shirt. His eyes were bloodshot and I could see empty bottles scattered along the ground behind him. His hands shook and I could tell that everything was falling apart.

"I-I--" I stuttered.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked. I could tell that he wanted to sound firm but instead his voice was shaky.

"I-I figured it out. We can make this work. You're swamped right now with work, I respect that. If you want time off from us, that's fine. We can take it slow. When you're ready you can come and I'll be there. And it's fine if you're not ready. But if you need me some nights when the work gets hard, I'll be there. And if you just need me as a friend, I'll be there. I don't care. But there isn't anything else for me. I will wait forever because it's always going to be you."

He tilted his head to the side. "So you're saying we'll be together depending on my mood?" He asked.

"Uh--kinda."

He took a deep breath and I could tell he was thinking. Oh my god, I was getting my baby back.

"I won't be your sometimes," he said harshly before slamming the door.

I can't breathe. I lost him. I fucking lost him again.

A Letter That He'll Never Read

Vodka burns my throat, but the thought of you makes my head pound. So I would rather black out with a horrible hangover than stare blankly at my hands and try to forget what it was like to touch you.

A/N Inspired by an anonymous quote!!! Creds to that person!!!