Entanglement [COMPLETED✔]

10

Laura

There was a note. 

And there was a hollowness in me as I read that note. My hands shaking as I held the paper between my fingers, eyes blurring with tears, each word sending me crashing and breaking.

My stomach uneasy, legs giving out from underneath me as I read each word over and over. Trying to fool myself that it was all a lie, that the paper was a dream, that I wasn't alone in the house. That Alex would come back any minute now saying that he went out for food.

But he didn't.

Was I a fool for having thought giving myself to him would stop him from leaving? Was I stupid and that desperate that I hadn't cared if he came in me? That I had stopped him from withdrawing as he did because I was desperate to feel his cum slide between my legs, a proof that he was with me?

I had done all that because I had felt him slip away from me. To leave me and hoping that he wouldn't after what we did. That our fucking would convince him to stay, maybe not for love but because it was good.

Was it love? Maybe not but it was still something I liked, something I wanted more of. I did it all and yet here I was alone, sobbing as I went from room to room. Trying to scrape by, to find him in the smallest hole, calling his name out because my heart was being ripped and it hurt.

But I didn't find him.

I was wrong. He didn't love me.

Like every other person in my life, he left. Like my dad who I didn't even met, who not once called me or sent me cards. Like my mom who had only waited for my big eighteen so she could run off with someone, who didn't even care enough to stay. Like my so-called friends, who had once promised years only to abandon me as soon as I was left by my own blood.

How could I have expected Alex to stay? He wasn't anything to me… yet how I wished he was. But he wasn't and he left me. 

No one loved me. No one cared for me. All these months, all those moments were worthless and a joke. Fooling me, tricking me.

I didn't know what to do with myself anymore, to stay or leave. To pack a bag and run away from this damn house and city, to find myself or get lost even more. Or to stay and look for him, to beg him for a chance, to make him see that he did love me. That this wasn't wrong, that we were magic and perfect.

That he could love me, that I loved him… 

Going back to his bed, I tried fooling my mind that he was still with me. That he would come back, my heart aching because it was a lie. My mind spinning, thinking over what I could have done wrong. 

Did I have to do more? Had the sex not been good? Did my inexperience repulse him? Did he not like me? Not even a little?

The days passed by painfully slowly, one, two, three, a whole week and I didn't know what to do. 

He didn't call me, he didn't show up home. He was gone and I was left alone in a house full of memories. Or lack of.

Every day I would wake up, hoping he had come back. Every afternoon, I'd sit outside waiting for his car to show up, for him to climb down and tell me to come to him. He didn't. 

By the end of the week I was contemplating my own life. If it was even worth living. I mean how could I go on when it seemed no one wanted me enough to stay? 

I was aware that he had been my mother's husband at one point, that they had a relationship, one I still didn't quite understand but they were together as I saw and yearned. But she was dead, she cheated, she left me- him, us.