Shawn Mendes Imagines

One Small Act pt.4

Y/N ~
I waited hopelessly for months. No phone calls, no text messages, no news on Shawn's whereabouts. Every second felt prolonging and I couldn't help but stare at the clock all day. If he ever came back, I wanted to know exactly when he arrived. I also wanted to know how much time has passed since he left.

The cold wind began to seep through the small window against the farthest wall. Goosebumps crawled up my legs, but I did not care to try and put a blanket over my body.

I should be able to accept my loss, but by accepting the fact that he is never coming back, ensures my failure of a relationship with him.

I assume I am supposed to learn a lesson from this; never fall too hard. Never fall for someone at all, really. Everybody makes machinations against you, so there is no point in putting your all for them.

Placing my two bare feet onto the wooden boards, my body rises from the bed for the first time in what feels like centuries.

How does one fully accept a loss?
By forgetting completely.

My tiresome hands rummage through my three-year-old desk drawer to find the one journal that ended it all. Finally finding it, I nervously hold it at eye level in hopes of making some sort of clarity in my planned action. I flip open to the last page of the notebook for one last entry.

           If blaming yourself is a stage of grief, then why is it the only stage I experience? I am yet to accept, and I have not felt any anger towards him. He states that his actions were not "him," but he has not made any attempt to talk to me after finding out. He is a liar by saying he will always love me. If he loved me, he would not make me endure such pain. Pain in general is a very terrible feeling. However, I believe that heart break is the worst of them all. There is no medicine to help my pain, just my mind feeding my heart all of the wrong ideas.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I toss my notebook into my purse I put on my shoes.

Maybe burning it will help me lift a weight off of my shoulders. I've never felt so much emotion on paper, but this notebook is filled with a jungle of memories. I want them all to be gone.

Before walking passed the bedroom door frame, I spot an old light blue sweatshirt Shawn used to always wear. There were as many creases on it as the amount of tear-shedding I had done in the last months. It was foolish of me to keep it, but it's too hard to let go. Taking a whiff of the sweatshirt, identify the (somehow) still fresh AXE scent on the cloth. I bite my lip before deciding to take the sweatshirt with me to burn as well.

I plan to head to an old hang out spot for my friends and I near the parking garage of an abandoned mall. I was such a stupid kid in high school. We'd always make "bonfires" (just small fires) and try to stay the night until the cops came and shut it down. Nobody uses the area any more, but I intend on making one last use before completely forgetting about an old, beloved place.

+++++

I pour gasoline over the notebook and sweatshirt as the sun radiates a large amount of heat onto my skin.

"I guess this it...." I mumbled to the inanimate objects. There are only 2 things, so it should burn relatively fast.

With a firm grip on my match, I run the stick across the rough concrete a couple of times before a flame finally ignites. Hesitant at first, I close my eyes a toss the flame onto the gasoline-drenched items. The sound of crackling stays constant in my ears as the pages of the notebook burn.

Opening my eyes, I see the sweatshirt turn black with flames. My heart begins to pound in my already tight chest. Every second was an inch of the beautiful light blue lost. Shawn always wore the comfortable garment.

Mind racing, I pull the sweatshirt from the flaming pile and immediately stomp all over the still arising flames until every color of bright orange and red is out of sight.

The sweatshirt was now gasoline and tear drenched as I collapse onto my knees.

Why do I constantly do this to myself?

Y'all keep asking for part 2 and 3 and 4 etc. BOIIIII. THERE IS ONLY SO MUCH I CAN DO. 😂😂

This book hit 100k OMG!!! Thank you so much for reading my imagines and making me smile with every comment you give me. When I first started this book, I could barely get 50 reads. This book blew up and now I'm way passed 50. Thank you thank you thank you.

SINCE WE GOT 100K, I plan to make an imagine everyday starting Monday through Friday (3/13-3/17). That's a lot since I suck at posting.

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