Joe and Dianne: My Suicide Saviour - Part 2

Finding

Joe's POV:

I woke up on the cold marble floor of my hallway. My head feeling like it had been hit repeatedly with a cricket bat. It's exactly what I deserved though. Not a hangover, but to be hit in the head. Maybe it will knock some sense into me.

I slowly open my eyes to be hit with a beam of light struck into the lounge. I looked at the clock on the wall to see that it had just got midday. The house was cold and empty. I didn't even have to look around each room to know that Dianne wasn't home. I slowly roused my bones and walked across the floor slowly.

As I stepped, I heard something crush underneath my foot. I looked down to see a small note with Dianne's perfect handwriting scribbled across it.

'Joe - I think you know why I'm not with you - if you really love me, you'll know where to find me.'

As I read the note, it all came flooding back to me. Everything I had done wrong. Everything that I was going to regret for the rest of my life. I allowed a single tear to role down my cheek and land onto the note that I shakily held in my hands.

Narrator's POV:

Joe knew exactly what Dianne was, and where she would be. The only thing that could truly make Dianne happy is dancing. Not Joe. Not her family. Nothing but moving her body to some music could give her true joy in life.

Joe quickly chugged a pint of water, along with taking some paracetamol to settle his head before grabbing his keys, wallet and phone, and heading out the door in search of Dianne.

He knew the first place he would try immediately. Joe knew that he loved Dianne more than anything in the world. She was the only one he had ever confessed his love for. The only one who could take him off of that ledge. As Joe headed out onto the street he thought about one question, and one question only:

'Does she still feel the same way about me?'

Dianne's POV:

I was sleep deprived

I was hungry

I was barely awake

I was missing Joe's touch

I was alone

I had been in a load of shitty situations in my life, but this is by far the worst. I dropped my bag down on the polished wooden floor of the studio I danced in the other day. It was dead quiet in there. I was wearing the stuff I left home in last night. I wore a loose t-shirt and some joggers. It wasn't the ideal attire to dance in, but it was good enough.

I plugged my phone into the speaker system and pressed shuffle on a playlist called 'heart brake' that I randomly found on Spotify. I had no idea what would be on the playlist but it seemed apt for my current situation.

I stood on my own in the middle of the room refusing to look at myself in the wall of mirrors that stood before me. I didn't want to see the image of what my life had become.

I allowed my limbs to move to the music I heard. Allowing all my emotions to come out into whatever the dance I was doing. I had no Idea what it was looking like - or what style it was. I danced what felt right.

As one song finished I began a series of spins but stopped myself as I saw a figure standing timidly at the door.

He hung his head down slightly as he held two coffee's in his hands.

"I thought I'd find you here."