Don't Cry

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As I am wandering outside of our hotel room, sniffling and thinking, "what the fuck did I do" I was still a bit drunk, and that alcohol had convinced me that we were done. He never wanted to see me again, and that was all to it. It was the first time that we had ever fought in that sort of manner, most of the time we agreed to disagreed or just agreed. I'd always just forgive him cause I knew he never really meant what he would say. But for some reason this was so different, and I wanted to get away from him. It didn't matter anyway, the tour was over and we were going home today.
    I knocked on Steven's door, my hair a tangled mess and my sweater sagged to one side. I wiped my nose, and took a breath. I could be completley honest with him, and pour out with no filter and he would be there. Nobody opens the door, and that feeling when you just really need someone to pick you up as you were goup dawned upon me. It ended up that he was messing with some girl he met last night. She opened the door and left,  with her stuff, leaving and I came in, still sniffling.. He was itching his jet black hair with a smirk that took up his face. When I caught his eye, he stalled, " Rose?" and I was hyperventilating so much it was hard for me to understand myself, " I wanna go home, Steven."
" What? Were going home anyway.." he led me to his bed, so we could sit down, " What happened?"
" I don't want to be here anymore. Im so tired of getting hurt physically and emotionally, Steven. Im so done with this, this isn't what I bargained for..."
" Hold on there," he stopped me, " What do you mean, physically hurt you?"
My stomach dropped. Shit. I didn't tell him about that night with Axl. There was no way for me to cover that up.
" I didn't tell you this...because I didn't want you, but he beat me up one night."
" Who did? Who?"
" Axl. In his hotel room."
" And you didn't tell me this immediatley?" He frowned.
" Im sorry.....I was afraid, and I didn't want to start this tension between you and the band and for things to go downhill. So I ignored him, and got together  with slash."
" Rose, you're worrying about others more than taking care of yourself. I'm here to make sure that this sort of thing doesn't happen."
" I know," I explain, feeling weak, " I regret not telling you since the morning after it happened."
He sighed, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. He had one arm over my shoulder, and my head wearily leaned onto his shoulder as I began to cry. I hated myself so much. I was expecting him to get angry.
" You should know you can tell me anything and everything...." he retorts, very softly.
" I got into a fight with Slash cause I was a bitch for him not saying 'yes' to getting married right away."
" What did he say?"
" He said something along the lines as he wasn't ready or that he thought I was crazy drunk."
" Ok, so he's not ready! But he'll get there..."
" When? In a year-" I stopped myself, realizing how much of a bitch I sounded, " I hate myself."
" Hey, I hate myself too sometimes, but I think you're just caught in the moment, baby. It's time for all of us to take a break. Bitching happens, it's pretty natural in a relationship. You didn't mean what you said, he didn't. If you think that taking a break from him is best, thats your call. Whatever you feel is right."
" Steven, don't tell me that. You're supposed to tell me what to do!"
He laughed, " Try to talk to him, and then I'll meet you in the bus."

So I leave my room, shaking in my thin clothes, walking over to Slash's hotel room, slowly. My feet cold and numb, as the sun had only come out a little, and the hotel's temperature is Antarctica worthy. I get to his room, 115, that we shared, and slowly opened up the door.

He wasn't in the room; but what was more interesting was the cracked window; which looked like someone had threw something at it. My God.

My throat began to pulse rapid soreness....I could feel my face shrivel and my lip trembling. He must have left to go rehearse, and we were to leave.

Slowly, Biting my lip, and wiping my nose, I packed up all of my bags. The sun had risen, and the only thing I heard was the sound of traffic.

I left a note on the bed that said, " Im sorry for being a bitch."

I convinced myself that I had to leave regardless, but the only thing I could depend on was him calling me.

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