The Reason

Chapter Eleven

Me and my clock are seriously no longer friends. It torturously keeps on ticking and each tick brings with it, time that's without Rex. Snuggled up on my sofa, with a waffle throw keeping me warm, I look at the time with a sorrowful stare. It's nearly ten thirty, and I've heard absolutely nothing from Rex.

Maybe he's got cold feet about us?

Maybe having some time for the truth to finally settle in his mind, has become all too much for him?

Bringing the throw up higher around my shoulders and neck, I shiver. I'm not shivering with coldness, I shiver with loss.

I should have known that last night and this morning was just too good to be true. I was stupid to ever believe that we could move on from our thwarted past; ridiculously and painfully stupid.

Angry at myself, I throw off the blanket and stand up with my emotions beginning to choke me. I can't cry now. I don't want to fall apart just yet. There has still got to be some hope left for me and Rex? I don't think I can cope with losing him again.

Not now.

Not like this.

With slow and sad steps, I carry my infused with sorrow body, up to my cold and empty bed. I know it will be a slumber-less night, but at least I can lie there in the dark and imagine all of the things that I might have enjoyed with Rex. The clock has been taunting me all night long, why not taunt myself a little while longer with what could have been?

Lying on my side, with my head cushioned by my pillow, I stare at the dark shadows that stretch across my bedroom floor and walls. Those shadows are much like my thoughts; silent and unnerving.

All alone, I wonder how I could have it got it all so wrong.

Had I just fooled myself into believing that Rex did love me?

But I heard him say it. I heard those wonderful words of I love you, Angel slip beautifully from out of his mouth. I felt the way that he had touched me, how immersed in pleasure he was when he made slow and sensual love to me this morning. I also have the way that he looked at me, sweetly committed to my memory.

I will never forget that look, it's a look that will never be forgotten.

He looked at me like I was the only person that he lived and breathed for.

That was mine.

I own that look.

No one can take that away from me, no one...not even Rex himself.

That is when my tears start to fall, soaking my pillow and dripping from the tip of my nose. I have tried to hold it together—all the while falling apart.

I finally give in to my loneliness and sadness. I have cried an ocean over Rex in the past, and sadly, I am about to cry another.

To have been given just the smallest taste of the sweet nectar of happiness, to then have it all taken away again; leaves me depressingly down.

How many times am I to suffer because of Rex?

How many times do I keep going back for more?

Wrapped in my duvet and in my isolating misery, I cry over Rex and I cry for my pathetic self. I masquerade as being someone who is so very strong, when really, I am so very pathetically weak.

I was weak when my parents died.

I was weak when I ran away.

I was weak when I got into Rex's father's car.