other people's heartache 》ryden

00: Thirty One

I've never been one to fall in love.

I've never looked at someone and felt butterflies swarm in my stomach. I've never had sex and really connected with the person. I've never kissed anyone and felt a spark. I'm just not big on people, I guess. Or maybe there's something wrong with me; maybe I'm just a sociopath. I don't know. I don't know who I am or what I'm doing. All I know is that I sure as hell didn't believe in love and I didn't believe anyone could change my mind.

I counted the stairs as I headed up to Jon's apartment.

...Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty, thirty one.

It's always bothered me that there was thirty one stairs. It's such an odd number that never seems to fail at appearing in my life. My mom was thirty one years old when she died. There's thirty one days in this month. Thirty one minutes to get home from here. I bet it'll even be thirty one seconds until I get pissed off at something Brent says.

I twisted the doorknob three times before pulling the door open. The lights outside flickered twice by the time I closed the door. Usually they flicker at least four times.

Everything is off today.

I walked into the dim living room and grabbed my guitar.

...Twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty, thirty one.

"Rough day Ryan? Or are you just depressed as usual?" Brent laughed as he patted my shoulder. There it is. I pushed his hand off of me.

"I don't know." I twisted the tuners on my guitar.  "I just feel off." Jon nodded and looked at me with a slightly concermed glint in his eyes and looked back at the book he was holding. Classic Jon. Always silent.

"What's this I hear about you and Helena?" Spencer came up behind me and tapped me on the head with a drumstick. "You guys were fine last week." I rubbed my head, and he walked into the kitchen and grabbed us all a beer.

"I don't know. I just don't feel all that connected to her lately." I opened up the bottle and took a sip of the bitter liquid.

Not that I ever did feel anything for her. We do the same thing every night. We watch some sort of movie, fuck, then sleep. And I never feel anything. As much as I wish I did, I don't feel pleasure, I don't feel love. Why would I be happy with that?

"You know Helena is the only girl who's ever put up with your depressive attitude. You should be grateful for that." Brent mumbled. He always felt the need to automatically defend her.

"I know you aren't exactly satisfied with your relationship, but what exactly do you want her to do?" Jon added, still skimming through the book he probably wasn't even reading.

"I don't know." I tapped the neck of my guitar rhythmically. "I don't know what I want." We all sat without saying another word. Jon at this point just mindlessly turned the pages of the book. Brent stared blankly at a sheet of paper he was holding. I plucked a few chords on my guitar. Spencer tapped his drumsticks against the table.

My life was like a scratched record. It just went in circles playing the same godforsaken tune over and over. I need change. I'm going to go completely insane. My mind is in a constant state of counting whatever I see just to keep myself occupied. I try to change how many times I twist the doorknob before going into Jon's apartment. I try to change how Jamie and I have sex in hopes to finally feel something. I try to do anything to take me out of this constant loop I'm in. It's all I could do.

I don't know who I am or where I'm at, what I feel or who I can trust. It feels like I'm having a midlife crisis. I'm 23 and my life is shit. My mom is dead, my dad is a drunk, my friends and I have nothing to talk about anymore, my girlfriend and I constantly fight. I'm always told I don't try hard enough, told I should stop being so sensitive and demanding and just enjoy life while I'm young. I don't know how to do that.

A knock at the door took my attention away from my thoughts. "I got it," I motioned Jon to sit down. I looked out the peephole and saw Helena. I opened the door and let her in. She was wearing a loose button up t-shirt and black skinny jeans.

"Hey babe, what are you doing here?"

"I miss you, Ryan." Her brown eyes glistened as she ran her hand down my chest. "Can you come to my place again tonight?" I saw Brent staring at us, so I led her out into the hall.

"Listen, I still love you." Do I really? "Everything is fine with us. Let's just let it go. Just let me have my space." Nice one, Ryan. Classic.

"Why won't you let me help you?" She placed her hand on my cheek and rubbed her thumb on it. "I want to make you happy."

"You do make me happy, Lena." No you don't. "There's nothing you can do, honestly. You being with me is enough to make me rest easy." I can't sleep. "I'm fine." No I'm not.

She nodded her head and kissed my neck. She brought her lips up to my ear. "How about you come over tonight, I'll give you the best sex you've had in months?"

Just like you say every month. Perfect. I gave her a fake smile. "Sounds great." I kissed her forehead and off she went. I walked back into the apartment and plopped down on the sofa, which was an awful shade of green, I might add.

"I take it she was the one to apologize again, despite doing nothing wrong?" Brent scoffed.

I let out an angered sigh and stood up. "You know what Brent, if you don't think I'm making her happy enough then you go fuck her. I don't care anymore. You're always the one kissing her ass, why not put your dick in it?"

"Hey." Spencer stood up and looked at Brent and me. "That's enough." You're right Spencer. I had enough. I groaned as I put my guitar back in my case and headed toward the door.

"See you guys tomorrow." I said, slamming the door behind me.

...Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine...

Twenty nine? Fuck my life.

I felt a sharp pain in my head while a flash of white encompassed my vision. I ran back up the stairs and recounted my steps, staring at my feet.

...Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty-

My counting was cut off by the brush of a shoulder. I turned around and saw a tall figure begin to face me. My eyes met with a pair of deep brown ones, and I felt a rush of god knows what shoot around in my gut. I have no idea what I was feeling, but I loved every second of it. They smiled at me and headed back up the stairs.

I was completely infatuated with whatever, whoever I just saw.

My mind fluttered with questions. Why did I suddenly feel alive after seeing their deep brown eyes gaze into mine? What's their name? Their story? My spine trickled with some sort of sensation I had never experienced before in my life.

Then, my heart sank. That feeling soon dissipated, leaving me empty again on the second step of the concrete staircase.

I'd never feel that way ever again.

I let out a long sigh and didn't even bother recounting my steps. I looked at each foot as I walked out of the development. Left, right, left, right. I made it to my old car and tossed my case into the backseat. I looked at the torn cushions of that seat and remembered the first night Jamie and I fucked in my backseat. That night was the closest I had ever been to feeling something. Maybe that's why I'm still with her. She's the closest I'll ever get to feeling something.

I climbed into the front seat and rested my hands on the steering wheel. The pitter patter of rain clicked against my windshield. I counted the drops until that trickle of rain soon turned into a downpour. I put my keys into the ignition and started my car.

The drive felt longer than usual. I couldn't stop thinking, wondering, longing for what lied behind those brown eyes. The windshield wipers tapped back and forth like a clock ticking. I counted each tap until I got home. Something to distract me from the thoughts racing through my mind.

When I got home, Jamie and I ate some left over pizza, and then she gave me "the best sex I've had in months," which just felt the same as every other night. I turned out the light and rested my head on my pillow, staring at the blank ceiling.

I was back into that goddamn loop.