Work Text:
A rustle
He was awake again. Why couldn’t he just sleep this entire night instead of making me pretend I’m okay with this. With his late nights rummaging the bed like something is keeping him awake. Lately, he’s been looking off into the distance after talking to him like he had nothing better to do with me than talk about basic stuff. Things we already know the answer to:
“How was your day”
“Good.”
“How did you sleep last night?”
“Couldn’t.“
Some days he would brush off the whole thing and pretend everything was fine. that everything was okay. That everything made sense and that nothing had made him happier. I should know better. Know that at least he has the energy, the ability to tolerate me just like everyone else.
I thought he was different from those other girls I watched from afar. The girls I used to swoon over. Those days were behind me when I met him. He taught me how to love and forgive and to truly let go of what's been holding me back.
When I told him about what’s been happening with my parents’ pressure on me, he’d drop everything to give all his time and attention to me. Like I was the only thing that mattered, like I was the only thing that existed in his heart, mind, body… His world.
Now he’s stuck on his phone.
Our conversations are shorter, our hugs, and cuddles vanish, and he would dismiss the things we used to do together. He said I was the only one for him. That I was the one he was spending the rest of his life with. What a fool I was. I couldn’t say for certain that he didn’t care about me, but I can feel it. The distance feels like we’re miles apart, yet we stand so closely to each other every passing day it hurts.
It hurts more than he knows. It hurts more than the dagger he could stab through my heart for all I know, all I care. He could throw me away, abandon me like trash. Leave me in a bin where his last girlfriend had ended up long ago when he said he chose me.
Tonight he’s quieter.
It wasn’t anything special today, but he’s been looking at his phone less and actually made a dinner reservation for us later.
Odd…
He’s also been reaching for my hand in public and of course I cave in and grab for his. Maybe even squeezing it a bit to show him that I still care, that I’m still loving him no matter what happens. He stares down the road, walking like he had to go somewhere important.
Interesting…
We finally reach the restaurant and he pulls out my chair and lets me sit down before scooting me in. He stands there for a moment before he sits in his own chair. The restaurant was full, chatter, laughter, smiles. It was more than what we were doing.
He took out his phone again.
Scrolling, tapping, even smiling. What was he smiling at? What was so important on his phone that he had to ignore me at a restaurant that he picked in the first place for a date he bothered to take me out on for the first time in weeks. What do I do with him now? I mean it’s not like I can leave… I love him too much to be the one to leave him. I can’t leave him. Maybe I can convince him to love me again like he used to. Maybe finally kiss me for once.
Now that I think about it…
He hasn’t kissed me at all. He would hold my hand and cuddle me, but he never pressed his lips with mine or touched me in ways that well… Touched me other than the surface level stuff. He knows I want it, just never bothers, never cares, never listens. Just always on his damn phone.
The waiter finally breaks this awkward and rather uncomfortable silence.
“Hello, welcome to Olive Garden. What would you like today? Would you like to hear any specials or suggestions on what you would like to eat? Maybe something to drink if you’re not sure right now.”
He looks up from his phone
“Water.”
“Alright, and you?”
“I’ll… I’ll take a water too, thank you”
“Okay, two waters. Are you guys ready to order or should I come back?”
I paused, panning over to him, staring at his phone yet again.
“Yeah, We need more time to decide our orders…”
“Alright, I’ll check on you guys in a bit.”
The waiter leaves to go fetch us some water. I rest my hand on my cheek, trying to distract myself from him. What rubs the salt on my wound is a lovely old couple. They were feeding each other a spoonful of the dessert on their plates. The woman being fed chocolate lava cake and the man a simple apple pie.
They looked at each other like the world had only left them there in the world alone together. Like all time stopped and that moment is the first and last moment that they’ll share in their entire life. Like when…
I look back over at him. His phone screen in his eyes reflects my longing. I couldn’t help, but compare him to that man that looked at that woman like she was his everything. Like she was his first and only love he would settle on.
I loved him…
But sometimes I just wish I never met him. Never looked his way or to never let him speak to me that day I met him. He said he… Loved me. You can’t just say the “L word” without meaning it. Saying “I love you” means nothing to a person that can’t comprehend the concept of love. That is too young or naive to think what love could even be about. I loved him. I have to love him.
Does saying I love you mean anything when only you’re the one saying it?
It get to the point where I’m pretending that we were that old couple. Sharing our desserts and new memories we could have shared at that table. At that moment… It would have been us two against the world, against-
“Here you two go: two waters. Did you finally decide on what you wanted to eat? Maybe you want to try our chef’s special? It’s a tomato soup with hints of mint, garlic, and lemon and comes with a side of grilled cheese.”
I tried to look at the waiter to focus on something real, but my eyes kept drifting to him. The man that cared more about what’s going on in his own little world than the world moving all around him.
“I…Actually can we just have the bill please? We decided that we’re not going to eat.”
“Oh, alright no worries. I’ll be right back.”
The waiter left once again. He looked up from his phone, raising a brow at me.
“What was that for? I took you out for dinner and you just decide that we’re gonna eat nothing? It’s a restaurant for god’s sake… Why do you have to act like this?”
I could hear my teeth clenching, tightening at his words.
“Well, maybe I just didn’t want to eat and possibly wanted to go back home?”
“You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to eat!”
“Wave… You were on your phone. Even if I did ask you if you wanted to eat or the waiter asked you to eat you wouldn’t listen. The waiter came back earlier and the only thing that you ordered yourself was water. A cup of water, Wave! Could you even put your phone down for one second?! Or maybe at least try to listen to what people are saying?”
“Why are you being so immature about this? There were important things from work that I had to tend to. Also, could you not be so loud? You’re making a scene…”
“Really? I’m making a scene?! Well maybe you should find your own way home then…”
“Wait, what? Why are you acting this way? You never acted like this before? What is wrong with you lately.”
“What’s wrong with me? What’s. Wrong. With. Me? Oh, wouldn’t you like to know? You push me away and scroll all day on your phone and texting who knows what and talking to someone I couldn’t even know about. You’ve been cuddling me less, hugging me less, hell you’ve been paying attention to me less. If I meant anything to you, you’d at least show me that you do… I’m leaving.”
I didn’t even look back after I stormed out of the joint. All that was left was an aching in my heart that I should have been familiar with before, yet it feels as fresh as it could have been. A sharp pain as it always will be. I don’t know why, but I regret what I said. Regret what I did there. I saw him look at me like I was crazy, like speaking my mind was some sort of foreign language he assumes he can’t understand.
I want to go back. Tell him I’m sorry and maybe he’ll forget I ever said anything. Forget that this was ever an issue. To forget I was ever a pain someone has to carry for love.
All I wanted was to love, to feel, to hold. Is that too much to ask from him? Did it have to end this way? Did he have to give me a loving feeling that I now shove deep into the dark to keep myself from missing him too much when he would go out for work. I know I had my own work I tended to, but seeing him leave every time hurt more than it did, more than it needed to. I knew he was gonna come back home after his shift, but every afternoon he would leave and come back in the morning to sneak into bed with me when he thought I would still be asleep.
Yet, I was always awake…
I was still lying awake in that bed, waiting for him to hold me in his arms when he came back. He would sometimes, but most nights he would turn his back to mine and drift to sleep like he couldn’t see I was hurting, craving for something that he couldn’t provide for me anymore. I even shifted my hand under my weight, pretending that it was him.
He doesn’t need me anymore…
It didn’t take long to piece all the puzzles together. I should’ve known, should’ve been the one to make him wait for me. To make him beg on his knees to let me stay home on his days off and to hold him after I get home. Yet, he never will. I learned that lesson a while ago and the man he knew is dead. Gone and never to be seen again. He will never get to see the man he supposedly loved all those months ago.
Oh, how long I thought he’d loved me…
Or at least thought he loved me.
I drove home. The cars and the bumpy road felt a lot louder this time around. Some ringing here and there. And I’ll admit, the road got a little blurry, but it’s okay. He’ll come home, I’ll apologize and things will go back to normal. They always had… That’s the way things are and that’s how they’re gonna be forever.
I closed the car, not bothering to wait for an imaginary Wave to get out of the car. I left him… I left him at that restaurant, along with all the other things that dared to say they gave a damn about him.
Click
The echo of my footsteps traveled louder. The house felt emptier. More… He wasn’t there. I knew he wasn’t there, but this room. This very room doesn’t feel right without him here with me. I know that he isn’t home most of the time, so I’m here by myself anyways, but this time it feels different. Something is different this time and I can’t seem to find out what it is.
It doesn’t look too far off from how we left it when we started the drive to Olive Garden. It was the same. Nothing moved, nothing missing, nothing added, just our house.
I didn’t need him to know that this space needed someone. It was missing someone. I knew it was him, but I want to think of someone besides him that won’t make me cry myself to sleep. I mean he does that to me anyways. I keep my sobs to myself as I curl into a ball waiting for him to come back. His shifts got longer and his patience shorter. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t even know what I want anymore.
Do I even love him anymore?
I grabbed my keys and put them on the side table, locking the door behind me. Why should I leave the door open for him? He has his own key.
And if he doesn’t?
that’s on him.
I sighed as I threw myself on the bed. Exhausted, tired, overwhelmed. This isn’t what I thought the date would turn out to be. I mean who am I kidding? It never goes as it should. Our fun outings are just more opportunities to make me feel even more left out than I should feel. Maybe I should try what he’s doing. Maybe I should try his bad habits and maybe I could understand him more.
I mean if only he would talk to me about himself instead of me, or about what I did “wrong”. I pulled out my phone and tried to distract myself. Try to pretend that everything was fine. That everything wasn’t falling apart. That this relationship can no longer apply any more tape to fix what’s broken.
What he has for me is gone… and that’s a fact.
There is nothing to change his mind, or the way he thinks. There is no stopping this cycle that he swears he doesn’t know anything about. He said he was clueless as to what I mean about “the cycle”. I know he knows. I know that he’s pretending not to know because he doesn’t want to admit that what he’s doing is hurting me and he won’t bother even checking up on me anymore.
I told myself I wouldn’t fall for any bullcups or things that would make me fall to my knees and cry my heart out. Told myself that I knew I would eventually forget to follow. To forget that it existed. To forget I ever thought of something so stupid…
Jangles
Knocks
He was already at the door… he was also telling me to open it. To let him inside the house because he left his keys and how he knew I had my keys on me so he didn’t bother to grab his.
I… I didn’t know what was happening, but my body moved on its own. It brought me up to the front door, unlocking it without meaning to. He made his way in.
“Sigh… You’re a handful, you know that?”
“…”
“I don’t know what came over me at the restaurant…”
“…”
“I’m… Sorry. Maybe I have been on my phone too much and didn’t bother focusing on the present, on the date… with you.”
“…”
“I should have listened better and as your boyfriend I should have taken better care of you and shouldn’t have made you feel this way… I hope that I can somehow change my bad habits and make you feel loved again.”
“…”
“Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”
“…”
“Are you even listening to me? Please, babe talk to me!”
“…”
“Is this about my phone or maybe my shifts at work? I’ll ask for less hours! I’ll let you hide my phone. Anything that will make you speak to me again. I swear I’ll pay more attention to you.”
I wish I would have believed what he said. That anything of what he said was a promise that he kept. If I was the old me I’d forgive him immediately without a second thought. Without a single doubt about what he said.
He got to his knees, wrapping his arms around my lower thigh, while looking up at me. He was so pathetic. He really thinks I’m going to forgive him because he decided that now was a good time to beg for the love that died out. The love that died way longer than I’d like to admit myself.
“Please, baby… What can I do to make you forgive me? I’ll do anything—anything you ask me to. I’ll do it for you. You want to cuddle? I’ll do it. You want to hug? I’ll do it. Whatever you’ll say I’ll do.”
“Tell me the truth… Tell me why it hurts to love you.”
“What?”
“TelI why do you have to love something that has no ability to love and to put all your time and effort on something that won’t care if you go missing or waits for you at home every night when they are imagining the worst every time? When they loved you at your worst and loved you at your best? Can your phone really love you as much as I love you? Tell me! I need to know what I’m doing wrong!”
I felt a burn in my chest, like it was on fire. I could do nothing about the tears flooding my eyes or the way my body trembles as I blurted those words to him. What I said couldn’t mean anything to him and he’ll still find a way to apologize to him.
Thumping.
Ringing.
My breaths were louder than he was. Louder than anything. It was louder than any cry Wave ever tried to make for me. He wouldn’t care if I disappeared. He’ll just be worried that my side of the rent would be over due or that he didn’t have someone at home to clean the house while waiting for him to come home.
“I… I don’t love my phone. You know this. I know I’ve been paying attention to my phone more often than usual, but maybe we could talk this out? Be less mad at each other.”
“We are talking it out are we? We’re sorting this out like civilized adults. We can handle something like this no problem. The question is, can you handle a talk like this? Something more serious? Something that should be addressed in consideration of the fact that I feel you don’t love me anymore.”
“Then what should I do to prove that I do? What can I do to fix this?”
“You know what you should do. You control what you decide is more important and a priority that’s worth doing first.”
He lifted me off my feet, holding me up bridal style. Holding me close to his heart. He walked over to the bed, his heart beating faster. Don’t tell me he’s thinking of…
He threw me on the bed, my body landing on the edge of the bed roughly, his body crawling closer to me till he’s hovering over me.
I couldn’t move.
His breathing was heavy. His eyes looked into mine as if I would leave him forever. He wanted to make sure that wasn’t gonna happen. He would make sure that I would keep coming back to him. Even if it drives him to do something he doesn’t want to for my sake. To pretend that he still loves me. That he’s doing all this as an act of love. As his job as a boyfriend was supposed to do. He’s acting like I’ll take away his boyfriend title if I don't persuade me otherwise.
He collapses on top of me, wrapping his arms around my mid torso and hands roaming my sides. He sticks his face in the crook of my neck. His hot breath simultaneously hit my neck.
I let out a moan despite myself. I thought I’d be better at this. Better than him. To not let him get the better of me and let him control me like this.
Again.
I wrap my legs around him. I know I was mad at him, but his touch was electrifying. I mean I haven’t felt his touch for so long that feeling this in this very moment is what’s been making me crawl back to him. What’s been making me stay for so long.
“Can I?”
I nod, turning my head away. My heart pounded out of my chest. I could feel my legs go weak. My reason melting completely. He was the reason I can’t leave this place. The reason I can’t escape this never ending loop of wanting to be with him even if it kills me.
A kiss to my neck: a moan
His hands squeezing my waist would have me whimpering.
What is wrong with me? Why am I letting him make me feel this way? Why am I letting him finally make me feel good after so long of him distancing himself?
I didn’t feel like myself.
I felt I was losing.
Losing myself to his touch.
Losing myself in the feeling of him.
I’m losing… everything.
The night wore on much shorter, faster than it seemed. This night was different from the rest. Not because he finally paid attention to me, but was because of this love. It felt… empty. Like it was filled to the brim with empty promises and reminders of things he never fulfilled.
He silenced my thoughts with a kiss. Passionate, planned. He thinks I don’t see right through him. Like I don’t know what he is doing. It’s eating me up inside. If he doesn’t love me? Why is he so persistent in telling me that he does. It makes no sense.
The way that he handles me doesn’t scream “I love you” in the most emotional way possible… Just pleasure. Just something he can use to get me to think that he can do no wrong. That he is only trying to love me and that I’m putting him in the spot.
He’s the reason why we’re doing this right now, the reason why he’s loving me in such a lustful way. It’s nauseating. I want to believe that his eyes are actually looking at me. That he actually sees me instead of envisioning someone else. That he’s loving someone else. I can’t bear to see him ever think that, but I can’t let the thought go. The thought is there. It’s there as a reminder of all I’ve wrapped my head around. A reminder that I’m the one that is new to love despite feeling it all the time.
This… This was just not it.
This love with Wave is not the type of love I wanted, but he keeps making me crave it. Like I’m addicted. I hate that he makes me act this way.
He finishes. Trying to hide his face in my neck again. Something warm spreads around my lower stomach. Something that I wished was the happiness this brought me, but… that happiness felt cold. Colder than this room. Colder than him.
“I love you.”
“Love… you too.”
“I wish we could stay like this forever.”
“Yeah.”
“I only want to see you. See you like this with me. Looking at me while I love you like this. I’ll miss it every waking second.”
“Mmhn.”
God… He wanted more of this? I could never live this moment down without him trying to beg me for another go at me. To love me like that again, or maybe I’m using love too lightly, more like: To be inside me more often. He’s kind of blunt like that. He’s straightforward and says he knows what he wants, so I’m guessing he chooses not to say anything to save me the trouble of looking for the true reason behind all of this. All of this fake love he tries to spread like a virus. I need to stop.
Yet, who could stop loving someone they love too much to let go?
Who cuts the other loose strand?
Who decides who gets to leave?
I couldn’t know.
He doesn’t know.
I couldn’t know if he thought about this unless he said it out his mouth directly.
The next two weeks he’s been asking it more and more, and more and more nights I let him do it. Then, more nights he finished before he could pull out. I swear he just likes leaving me feeling sticky and gross. I showered for an hour that night. Staring at the tile flooring the sound of the rain echoed and reverberated against the walls and outside of the shower.
A ringing in my ear.
Pay no attention.
A tear instead of the shower’s water raining down on me.
I love him so much(?)
I love him so much I’ll let him leave me bleeding. Let him have his way with me. Let him do whatever he wanted with me as long as it meant that he would stay.
A buzz.
It was his phone.
A notification from an unknown number:
“Hey, I wanted to talk about what we were. I’m sorry to have not fulfilled what you asked for. Please take me back! I miss you with more times I can count! I wanna talk to you again!”
Someone…
They were texting him.
An unknown number was texting my boyfriend with the intention of getting him back.
Before I could think I opened his phone and unlocked his phone with ease and viewed the message more clearly. He’d been messaging someone behind my back and even visiting them when he said he’s been off to work.
My heart dropped
My heart broke all over again
I knew this was gonna happen. Knew that he’d be like this. Betray me like the man he is. I should be crying. I can’t cry. I knew this would happen and yet, I stood by and watched it happen, over and over. Every time… I watched it happen
There was nothing left for me to do other than let him love me with a lie he’s never expressed, but it was always there. I want him to actually love me. Look me in the eyes and tell me he isn’t looking at his own reflection. Maybe he has a good heart. Maybe he should be a good partner instead of sneaking off with other people. Probably making love to them…. Who knows? Maybe I lay in bed stuffed instead of empty. Filled with the love I was never hungry for, ate the things that were forbidden to take from him in the first place.
There’s no place for me to forgive him, yet he does it anyway. I didn’t have the heart to tell him. Maybe because he took my heart. Ripped it from its worth to taunt me with it. To make me watch my pulsating heart, beat and thump as it slowly dies and resurrect it with his empty promises and shared wisdom that makes me learn nothing.
Nothing I learned and nowhere else to go.
I never told him to his face, but I wish that he would have invented a Time Machine. To erase the mistakes he made with me. To make me forget him all together. To go back to the day where I made the mistake of loving him with all the heart I had left to give.
I love you
At least what was left of you…