History or Chemistry?

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*Ryan’s POV*

Once Brendon left, I found my pajama pants, but didn’t bother to put them on. I didn’t deserve pajama pants. I left my soup on the table (because I didn’t deserve it) and walked upstairs to my room. I stepped into my room and lay down on the floor because I didn’t deserve the bed. I untied the toga but didn’t take it off completely even though I didn’t deserve the warmth it barely even provided. I sat in the middle of the floor and regretted every tear Brendon shed because they were all for me and I didn’t deserve a single one. I sat and stared at the ceiling and thought about how I didn’t deserve it or anything else. I didn’t deserve anything. I felt like running away, but I didn’t deserve the legs that would carry me. I felt like talking to Daniel, but I didn’t deserve his company. I didn’t even deserve death.

I got up and put some underwear on even though I didn’t deserve them and picked up an album and thought about listening to it, but put it back down for reasons you can probably guess.

I messed up so bad.

The first tear fell and I stared at the spot it made on the carpet. It was joined by another, then another, then another. I sat down next to the growing collection of spots and thought of how the tears fell from my eyes. It was as if they were jumping off of skyscrapers to get away from me rather than expressing my sadness.

I wasn’t necessarily sad. The correct use of words was probably indescribably confused. I was just upset about that fact.

I felt like some scene from a movie. Do I choose the one that makes me happy or the one that will give my kids a better future? I wish it was that easy. The problem was, they both made me happy. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something left for me and Daniel. We just had so much history. Me and Brendon, we had no history. Well, barely any. We had chemistry, so I asked myself the big question.

History or chemistry?

I lay down on the floor again, only this time I was sobbing.

*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*…*

I don’t know how long I was laying there, but when I finally looked at the clock, it was way later than I thought it’d be. It was nearly 10:00 and I didn’t remember it getting dark.

I looked over at my door and saw two bottles of water and an unopened box of tissues. Patrick must’ve left me those things, I thought to myself. I stood up and walked over to the things. I picked the water and box up and sat down next to my music shelf. I blew my nose and thought about what song I could relate to the most. I drank a bottle of water and got down my Jonas LA album. I put it in the CD player and skipped to Critical. I liked the piano version better, but I didn’t own it, so I put Critical on repeat and lay back down on the ground and thought of Brendon. That song was exactly what I was feeling.

I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I barely knew why. I think I was just afraid that Brendon would never come back. I wasn’t really sad about that. I had Daniel. But I had no chance with Daniel. I sobbed harder.

I thought of that Tumblr meme I had always laughed at, the Forever Alone ones. I used to think they were the best jokes on the internet. Now, they only made cry harder. That was me. Forever Alone.

After what I was sure was longer than I thought it was, I glanced over at my desk and all of the notebooks stacked on top of them. I kept them for thoughts and what seemed like lyrics that never got turned into songs. I walked over and sat at the desk that I didn’t deserve and picked up my favorite journal and a random pencil. I opened the journal to an empty page and stared at it. I wrote down words, but none of them seemed right. They just seemed random and meaningless. I slammed the book closed and looked at the clock. It was a quarter till 2:00 AM. I felt worse than I had an hour ago and was feeling worse by the second. I needed to talk to someone. And I was also out of tissues.

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