18 Going On 30 || h.s. au

twenty one

MADDIE'S POV

I've lost track of how much time I've spent staring at the ceiling of my bedroom. The comforting familiar smells and feeling of my soft pillows and comforter are the only thing that kept me grounded while I watched the sun rise fully in the sky from my window.

I haven't moved a muscle since I got here. I spoke with my mum a bit when I arrived, because the least I could do was briefly explain why I was here at five in the morning. I didn't tell her everything, though. I couldn't physically get the words out. She ultimately assured me it was okay and that it was okay for me to go rest, but I haven't slept. I've just been staring at the ceiling and out the window. Yes, I would love to be able to sleep because my body aches for it, but my mind won't allow it.

I stopped crying hours ago, I think I completely ran out of tears before I even stopped but I kept crying even if no water actually came out of my eyes. Sooner than later I was all cried out and that's when the mental torture started.

I've done a lot of not-thinking. That is, thinking so much that it gets me absolutely nowhere. An unhealthy amount of mindless overthinking. Also known as literal torture.

I think the aftermath of finding out everything is worse than actually finding out and how I did. The places that my mind is taking me to are relentless, and all the results are, is numb. Just numb all over.

No matter how many times I try to reassure myself, I can't stop blaming myself for this. I can't stop trying to think of what I could've done that warranted this or made me not good enough for James. How long did our 'relationship' last until it twisted into a lie?

I swear it wasn't always like this. James wasn't always like this. At the beginning of our relationship he was a dream. While we were friends we were always exchanging flirty touches and glances and when we started dating, it was romantic date after date and night after night that left me so utterly smitten.

He never showed any sign of the anger issues or violence that he showed last night. Sure, he got mad like any other person, but he would never take it out on me. He never yelled. He never hit. He never bruised. To be honest I was shocked that it had taken me that long to date him and I was mad at myself for wasting so much time when we could've been together sooner.

When he asked me to move in with him I was so excited. I would have someone to come home to, cook dinner with, watch movies and stay up late with. And I was even more excited to do it with someone I loved.

Maybe I didn't love him as much as I thought I did.

Maybe he didn't love me as much as I thought he did.

Maybe I was too blinded by the so-called honeymoon phase to see what laid ahead.

I thought I was living in a fairytale, but now it's just a nightmare.

That's why I'm wracking my brain so hard trying to figure out what made everything fall apart.

I think we started to grow apart when he started working a lot more. We rarely had time to ourselves, just us together, and we didn't even try to do anything about it. That's when his 'stress' (as he so loves to tell me) started. The excessive working, coming home later and leaving earlier, his business trips picked up...

I would ask him how I could help with his workload, trying to support him by coming up with solutions to ease up on how much he was doing but he shot me down every time. And every time I brought it up again, he would get more and more annoyed with me just trying to help. He raised his voice a few times and then an hour later he would apologize, always saying that he was just stressed and that it was a one time thing. It never was, and the more I think about it, it just got worse after that.