Killer Queen|✔️ (Book 1)

42. The Good Morning Revival

       It felt like I closed my eyes for a minute and it was morning. I assumed Kiwi had slept on the couch. I looked around his room and wondered if I'd ever see it again. I replayed the whole year in my head as I blankly stared at the dresser. He would always be the first one I hurt because I knew he loved me and he'd put up with it, so whatever I was anxious about or whenever I had one of my selfish controlling fits, he'd be the one to pay. I was calm at the moment but an hour from then, I could've wanted him broken on the floor; worshipping me. I shouldn't want to hurt people. I shouldn't only get self-esteem from the suffering of others. He'd been through enough. This could only end by me dying alone or becoming a hermit and not being able to go out in the world. I felt hopeless, like when you spend all day putting your blood, sweat and tears into a coloring book picture. Then when you're all done it looks fan-fucking-tastic but then where do you go from there? Hang it on the fridge so it can be looked over and forgotten about? Frame it and put it in your room, when you know it belongs in an art gallery? Leave it in the book? There's no point. It's hopeless. Coloring book hopeless.                        

      
I shot up in terror, as I felt the bed move next to me. Kiwi was lying there, on his back with his hands folded across his chest, asleep. I couldn't believe I didn't hear him come in or feel him get in bed. I was usually a pretty light sleeper when I needed to be on alert. I turned over and cuddled up against him but tried my best not to wake him. I wanted to stay there and stare at him forever. I could've woken him up and come clean. I could've apologized for everything and told him we could be together now. But that wasn't the right thing to do. That was like asking him to jump into a ball pit with a million needles waiting for him at the bottom. I had to figure out what was wrong with me and get help. He deserved the best and as much as it pained me to admit it, I was not the best. It was hard for me to decide to let go and equally as hard for me to think of us being together and fighting to the point that we hated each other...kinda like where we were now. I knew I couldn't live without him but I couldn't live with myself either. At least this way there was the slightest fighting chance for someday. Doing the right thing always had to be so damn hard, that's why I never did it.

       
My mom was coming to get me early that morning, regardless of the shit that happened, because I had a nail appointment that morning. I remember because I started crying at my appointment and my nail tech tried to comfort me by opening the salon's new coffee machine and making me a macchiato but it exploded everywhere. I thought it was better to leave without waking him, on the very off chance he'd beg me to stay and make it even harder.
T: "Hey."
I whispered, to see if he'd flinch or say anything back but he didn't.
T: " I know you don't believe me, but I do love you. Probably more than myself. Well, I don't even like myself so I guess that's not as grand a statement as I wanted it to be. I don't blame you for not believing me...I wouldn't either. It's probably smart of you not to. I told you I had anxiety but I never told you how bad. I lied to you to get you to do what I wanted with Dan and keep you away from Alexis. I wanted to mess with your head and make you do whatever I wanted because it made me feel better about myself. I never told you about the depression or the NPD. The only reason I ever screamed at you or hit you is because I got so angry and overwhelmed with myself that I thought I could take it on you and feel better. I'm so sorry. I'm too embarrassed to tell you all this when you're awake because I look like a psychotic bitch but I guess I already look like one. I owe it you to fix this shit and not just apologize."        

     
I slowly sat up and inched my way across the bed so I didn't disturb him. As I stood up, I noticed the moderately sized blood spot on the sheets, from our activities last night. At least he wouldn't forget about me because I'm pretty sure that shit stains. I rummaged through his nightstand drawer, until I found a pen and a blank piece of loose leaf paper.

I need to figure out why I'm such a horrible person and fix it or I'll keep hurting you. I need you to leave me alone, if you weren't already planning to. Don't call or text me and don't show up at my house. It's for your own good. Just pretend I never existed.
– Taylor.

        
I could've been a little more poetic, now that I think about it, but that's all I had at the moment without getting into specifics. I didn't want it to look like I wanted a pity party, so I chose to be vague about everything. I left the paper on the bed where I had been laying, knowing I'd never lay there again and getting sick at the thought of who would lay there in my place. It gave me a faint ping of happiness knowing whoever the bitch was, she'd have to lay in my blood.

    
My mom texted me that she was outside. I packed up my things and quietly opened his bedroom door, still fighting the urge to wake him and say goodbye. I stood in the doorway and stared at him until I was sure I had his image burned in my mind before I slipped out the door and closed it behind me. There was no better way to prove I loved him, then to leave him.

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