O b l o q u y
xxlovelycollision

You're afraid to find out all of this hope you had sent into
the sky by now had crashed, and it did, because of me.
- Konstantine, by Something Corporate

- - -

You lay there, motionless. Alone. Worried, even. Some time has passed and she still wasn’t back yet, and you still won’t come to terms with yourself and admit it was your fault she left in the first place. You probably shouldn’t have lost your temper like that, even though she was the one who provoked it.

And look, once again, you’re placing the blame on her when you know good and well that it has always been your fault.

It’s raining; you can hear the drops patter against the window pane. Your eyes are shut, but at the sound of thunder, they flutter open in time to catch the lightning in the sky. You mull over whether or not you should bother getting up off her sofa to go look for her.

You sigh. It had been a stupid argument. You had been eating the breakfast she had bothered to wake up a little earlier just to make for you because she felt like it. And then, like the idiot you were, you blurted out, “I don’t understand.”

Of course, you understood that she cared enough about you to make you breakfast. What you didn’t understand was why. Why she hadn’t said anything when you were out late. Why you came in around three this morning with a cig hanging out of the corner of your mouth and bags under your eyes. Why when you crawled into bed next to her, she could see your bruised arms before you could shut off the lamp on the bed stand.

“You’re killing yourself, Axel.”

And the fighting had ensued. You had told her that you were ruining everything. It was her fault you were miserable. “Is it my fault that you’re shooting up only God know what?”

You had given her a blank look.

“Damn it all, Axel. What the hell are you thinking?” she had said, pushing away the plate of half-eaten breakfast she had placed before you. You had stood up and gotten right in her face; you had grasped tightly onto shoulders and shook her.

“Stop it, Axel,” she had yelled.

And so, you did. And then she left.

And there on her couch you still lay. She had brought you to her apartment over five months ago, both of you slightly intoxicated and already half-naked when you got through her door. But when you had woken up in the morning, you were surprised that you remembered what had happened; you still remembered her scent, her voice, her name. She had been different. She wasn’t just another girl.

“So you want to be a rock star?” she had questioned over a cup of coffee that morning. Her crimson hair was a mess, but she still looked beautiful. “Cross the country in a tour bus and all that?”

You had smirked. “Yeah, sure. Sounds like a hell of a good time, don’t you think?”

And with her, you felt like you could do anything. So you had begun to pursue your impossible dreams of fame and fortune. And you had almost made it. Until you met someone at a party one sinister night with drugs. Very addictive drugs that took all the stress and pain away that you faced because you still saw yourself as a dirt bag with no future, even if your girlfriend had repetitively told you that you were amazing.

At the thought, you run your slender fingers down the inside of your arms, feeling the little bumps and bruises from last night. Your pocket suddenly feels heavy, so you take out the little plastic bag, open the window and throw it out, watching it fall all fourteen stories.

That’s when you see her crimson hair.

She came back. And you still don’t know how you’re going to apologize for what you did. You don’t even know if you should stay.

There are two options here.

Either you wait until she gets here and then proceed to beg for her forgiveness. Or, you take the fire escape outside her window and leave. Leave and not come back. You’re no good for her, and you know it. She has her dreams too, and you’re screwing them all up.

You’re gone before you can hear her at the door, calling your name.