Yearn

Chapter Six

Dear diary,

Well f u c k . Here I am, red eyed and heart broken. Definitely not me. I'm supposed to be bubbly and happy, but fuck this hurts like a bitch. Like, what the fuck. I'm trying so fucking hard to not be mad at Stan and Sydney, but this really sucks. Stan was going to confess to me wasn't he? We were having a moment. And he destroyed it. They both did.

I grip my pen tightly, my tears starting to come back. I don't want to cry. I don't want to think about it. But I want to think about it. I want to cry. I inhale deeply, closing my eyes and closing the diary, pushing it away slightly. I lay down, reaching behind me to grab a pillow to hug. I hug it tightly, burying my face into it and bring my legs up. I start to cry again. The phone starts to ring and I cry harder, digging my nails into the pillow. Stop. Please.

After a bit, the ringing stops. I sit up, only to reach over to the night stand and grab my phone. I need a song. The phone starts ringing again and a sob escapes my lips. My reflection only makes it worse, along with my wallpaper. A picture of Stan and I at that same skating rink. Silver had taken it for me. Stan and I were laughing like crazy, our hands intertwined in between us as he struggled to stand up. His feet are wide apart and I'm at a 90 degree angle. I don't even remember what he said, but I almost peed myself. I smile sadly at the picture, only for my smile to falter and bring on more sobs. I manage to find the app I'm looking for and look through the songs. Finally, I find the song that will quench my sadness. Turning out Pt. ii

I lay back down as the ringing phone dies down for the second time. The song starts up and I return to hugging my pillow. I wish my mom were here. I could really use a hug right now.

The phone starts ringing a third time.

"FUCK OFF!" I shout. It's one of those pleas that are so genuine, it rips your throat. The ringing dies down, leaving me with the soft sound of my music and my crying. I better fucking sleep good after this.

And just three songs later, my crying has ceased and I slowly fall asleep with a blank mind.

-

Ringing. The fucking ringing.

I wake up to the phone ringing. This is the fourth fucking time. I sit up, my eyes feeling crusty and my cheeks feeling tight. I forgot what it's like to cry so much. I don't have a lot to cry about. Other than this of course...

Without thinking about it, I slide off of my bed and stumble into the living room, reaching out for the wall to keep my balance. My head hurts and I feel queasy. Making it to the home phone, I pick it up.

"Hello?" I greet, my voice sounding tired and gravely.

"Y/n, I've called fourtee-" With an unamused expression, I look at the phone and hang up, setting it back down in its rightful place. Ugh. Stanley. Even thinking of his name makes my heart crumble but also leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Doesn't he get it? I don't want to see him. The thought is so dark in my head that it sends a shiver up my spine. How can someone go from best friend/love interest to utterly hated in an instant? The human body/mind is so odd. The phone starts ringing again and I have the calm urge to rip the cord out of the wall. But instead, I simply walk back to my room, close the door and get on my bed. Tv sounds nice. I could watch Stranger Things. No, not Stranger Things. Mike has been pissing me off with his bullshit. Maybe I just need a laugh...

I end up choosing to watch Kevin Hart to maybe cheer myself up. I pause it as it begins and slide out of bed once more to make popcorn. The phone is still ringing. How crazy is it that he can't see that I need space? He knows damn well he just crushed my hopes and dreams. Like, shit man. Give me at least a day or two to recover. I leave my room and go to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of popcorn from the pantry and pop it into the microwave.