why do you only call me when you're high? //kth

5• made of glass

I wanted to be strong. After Sammy's and Cat's words, their encouragement, after all the tears that made me feel like I had cried rivers and I felt like my body did not have a single water droplet left to shed, I was desperate to feel strong again.

But I'm no superhero. It took James exactly four days to show up at my house.

I should've expected it. Seeing him face to face again, staring into his deep grean eyes and watching him mindlessly push his messy, chestnut brown curls out of his face like he always did, made me want to break down all over again.

The harsh reality came crashing down around me once our eyes met and I was stunned into silence. My eyes fell to his hands that were nervously fidgeting with a silver ring on his finger. I had spent hours picking out that ring for him. A birthday present. Now I wish he wasn't wearing it.

A long shadow drew out behind James, my ex boyfriend, as he stood on my porch, brown curls glossy in the afternoon sun. He had been crying, I could tell right away when I noticed his bloodshot eyes and the wet traces on his flushed cheeks.

"Why weren't you at school?" I was surprised any words came out of me at all. Maybe I should've slammed the door in his face but I wanted closure. I needed to hear that we were over.

James seemed baffled that I had spoken up first. He just shrugged at my question, no answer to give.

"Why are you here?" I changed my question. I wanted him to be straight forward. The less time I spent on this conversation the better. There was no way I would let myself cry in front of him.

"Can we talk?" he moved a bit forward at that, trying to step into the house. I panicked at the sudden proximity.

"No. You should leave." I spat out. My answer came fast and sounded cold when the words fell from my lips. I got ready to close the door when his hand wrapped around my wrist.

"Baby, please" he begged, his voice breaking off. I flinched at the pet name but looked up to meet his tear shot eyes. It made me wonder whether he ever called any of those other girls baby too. He probably did. Why did I still make myself believe I ever meant something to him, that I was ever special?

Seeing all the pain in those familiar green eyes stare at me when I flinched back from his touch, felt like a knife to the chest.

I wanted to hear what he had to say. No- I mean I wanted him to leave. I- ..

I didn't like seeing him this broken up. It brought me no satisfaction, only sorrow. He was so different when sober. He looked almost innocent. I couldn't be mad at this side of James.