I Needed You

1

"You know what, this is pointless," I stood up from the elegant table, looking around at each of my family members, "Fuck all of you."

I couldn't meet any of their eyes as I stormed out of the room, pushing open the glass doors with such a force they slammed against the walls.

I went down the staircase, not bothering to admire the beautiful cream colored walls with paintings that were incredibly expensive.

I knew it was more work to take the stairs than the elevator, and by the time I got to the main floor of the penthouse complex my legs were burning.

But I deserved the pain.

I went out the back doors of the building, leading to the sand and I ran until I got into the ocean. I didn't stop, I let the waves crash over me and pull me to the ground before flowing to the surface again.

My head was underwater, I opened my eyes and let the salt burn them. I cried out underwater, struggling to bring my hands to my face.

But I felt peaceful. If my family couldn't accept me, then maybe the ocean would.

Maybe I could be happy if I was dead. But I didn't want to die. I wanted to live and be happy.

But I haven't been happy for a long time.

It's been hard, with the baby and my father dead. He died two days after I got to Texas and I told him I loved Angelina as more than a friend. He smiled and an hour later he was gone.

I came home a week later, and Angelina's house was empty. Nobody picked up the phone, and I was left by myself. I stayed alone, not telling anybody I came back. I did nothing but make Tiktoks to pay the bills, which were hardly met most of the time.

I lost the motivation to do Youtube videos, only after having three more uploaded to the channel.

And now here I was, ready to let myself die in the ocean, I had nothing going for me anyways.

I felt something wrap around my waist, and I knew I was nowhere deep enough for it to be a sea creature. The grip became tighter, and I felt myself being pulled backwards and my head broke the surface of the water.

I sucked in a deep breath of oxygen, my breathing unsteady as my lungs burned and reality came crashing back down on me.

I was gently plopped back on the sand, my clothing soaked and stuck to my body and my once neat ponytail gone and now a mess.

"Are you okay?" I gasped as I looked up at the person who was talking to me, a man, rather. One I knew very well. He didn't seem to recognize me at first, just like how it took me a couple seconds to take in his appearance.

But I'd remember those blue eyes from anywhere.

"I'm sorry," I began sobbing, coughing to try and get the burning feeling out of my chest, "I didn't mean it, I'm sorry,"

"Taylor, what's wrong?" When Colby said my name it was laced with pity, sympathy and curiosity. It was like he couldn't believe that I was sitting here, crying on the beach.

"My family hates me," I had no sense to push him away when he sat down beside me, pulling me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me.

"No they don't. They don't hate you," He sang quietly to me, resting his cheek on my head.

"Yeah they do," I wiped my nose, "I told them about me being bisexual and they hate me. Except for my dad. He loved me, oh god," I trailed off as my chest began to hurt. It wasn't the pain from the salt water but from grief.

Being alone gave me a lot of time to think about my dad. I should have spent every single second with him, up until he died. The second I found out he had cancer I should have pushed everything aside and went to be with him.

But I didn't, and I will regret it forever, and I have regretted it since the day he died and it will last until the day I die.

"They'll come around," He said quietly.

I was wondering how I got in this situation, how I got in my exes arms in the dark. The only light being the moonlight, and the light in his heart.

"Why are you here, Colby? I left you, I hate you. Why are you here?" I lifted my head from where it was leaned on Colby's shoulder, "Why are you helping me?"

He didn't answer right away, taking in my features that seemed so new to him. I found myself doing the same thing with him.

Colby's hair was dark, like it was when we met nearly a year ago. His arms were fuller, proving that he had hit the gym quite a bit. But my changes were more drastic.

I had lost weight, my lack of eating three meals a day regularly causing tolls on my body. I had more tattoos, some he could see right now and some he couldn't. I had flowers on my shoulder, the word "pain" on my knuckles, and my dad's birthday behind my ear.

Colby could see that one now that he was pushing his fingers through my hair, trying to settle it though we both knew it was useless.

I found myself appreciating the touch, the touch that showed he really cared about me and not just doing it to be kind.

It showed that deep down he still had the warm, kind side to him I fell in love with. That maybe I had an affect on him, maybe one that I didn't mean to have.

All I wanted to do was show him he didn't need to hookup with girls to numb the pain so he could be happy.

But I think it took me leaving to show him that.