𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 ; 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐑

12. | 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐨

"alexa, play abcdefu (angrier) by GAYLE ! !"


•

throwing some mandatory
angst in bc I was being
asked several times for it—
•
little did y'all know
that you was already
gon' GET IT ! !

•

* trigger warning
for anxiety attacks
in this one ! *

•      •      •

 

The talk went okay. It wasn't great, and you didn't really get anywhere with it, but the two of you were more civil now, so you were taking that as progress.

 
How do you love someone so much even through the bad, that leaving just can't be done?

You let him completely mangle your thought process. Sooner than later, the relationship grew more toxic by the week, and you knew it.
And at least you finally saw it now. It was getting to be too much, and you still loved the man he was, is, and will always be. That's why it's so hard.

A soft sigh escapes you when handle the bills, death threats, and red notes. Onceler told you he'd be back soon, as his mother called him to downstairs in the factory to check on a little malfunction.

As his assistant, you took the time to handle the papers awhile. The stack fit in your hand, and your fingers gently flipped over and through them. Protection resources, EPA, and more death threat letters. You felt sick.

Others, some notes had pink envelopes with heart shaped stamps on them. You ripped some up before he could get to those. Maybe even stole a look at the inside of one or two. (Or three or four—)

 
You tore open the top of a sealed, pink letter addressed to him with pretty cursive handwriting, and sat back in the tall chair, sinking down into it with a brow scrunched. You read it.

  'Onceler,

I'm sorry if this comes off weird, but I saw you at a boutique shop in Greenville a month ago, and just can't stop thinking about you. I wish you'd feel the same. I have about ten thneeds, they're literally my fav thing ever <3
I know you usually have that girl around you, but if you ever feel lonely or wanna talk sometime, you can always gimme a cal—'

 
You scoff, and tear the letter into two pieces. They land in the garbage can under the desk.

Did you feel guilty about it? Not really.

Fuckin' bitches are so down bad for him. It was frustrating dating literally the hottest man in existence.

  You sit in his chair, alone. Taking in the room from behind his position at the desk, it was weird. The room felt so . . empty. The air was heavy, and the thneed around your neck didn't help anymore. It was all just getting to be too much.

There's a heaviness in your chest, something that wants to make you cry.
You don't want to leave him. You just can't. Onceler was the love of your life. Was.

It was hard; you couldn't stand the stress anymore. The death threats, the stupid love letters, the air quality, all of the trees gone. The Lorax nowhere to be in sight anymore, as well as the rest of the creatures.