Ryden Oneshots 【2】

If You Look In The Mirror And Don't Like What You See...

If You Look In The Mirror And Don't Like What You See, You Can Find Out Firsthand What It's Like To Be Me

.:. Rating : R .:. (for subject matter)

Summary: Ryan still says he loves me, but for some reason he doesn't even want me to hold him anymore...

Brendon's POV

I'm really starting to worry about Ryan. I honestly never thought it was possible to love someone so much. But, then, I also didn't think it was possible for something to hurt this bad, either. Ryan still says he loves me, but for some reason he doesn't even want me to hold him anymore.

Well, I shouldn't say 'for some reason.' I know he's trying to keep something from me, but I really don't know what. It really does worry me though. The last time I was holding Ryan, before he pushed me away, I felt his stomach. He's always had a naturally slim body. But now, it was caved in, and I could feel his ribs distinctly. I've always thought he was perfect, complete and utter perfection. I love his hair just the way it is, but he goes and gets it cut anyway, insisting he can look better. I love his make up any way it is, or if he doesn't wear any at all, but everyday he re does it atleast 4 times to make sure it's 'perfect' for me.

I always tell him everything about him is perfect, and he doesn't even have to try. He tells me I'm blind, and don't really see what's there. I look at Ryan, and I see everything that makes me still have faith in a higher being. Well, when I looked at Ryan. When I used to look at Ryan, I saw soft, silky hair that falls just perfectly. I saw the most gorgeous eyes you can imagine, so wide and innocent that you'd almost mistake them for a child's. I saw, as I called him, a Golden God.

Now, when I look at Ryan, it scares me. He's still my baby, I still love him more than anyone can possibly imagine. But now his hair has lost its shine. It doesn't fall in just the right place, but sticks up at an awkward angle. His eyes have lost their gleam. They're no longer full of life, but full of fear. Confusion. Desperation. But no matter how hard I try, I can't get Ryan to let me help take those feelings away. It hurts to look at him, now, as much as I love him. It hurts because everytime he looks back at me, our eyes meet, and I can see all the emotions hidden in his. I can see how scared he is. Then he looks away.

Ryan doesn't even like me looking at him anymore, come to think of it. He always tells me he feels awkward when I look at him. I tell him he's my boyfriend, and I like looking at him. Sometimes I can see his eyes well up with tears, and I feel like the world's biggest jackass, because it's my fault. But I just want to know what's wrong with him.

Ryan doesn't like me kissing him anymore, or holding his hand. No matter what I do, I can't seem to get him to kiss me without looking like he'd rather be doing anything else. Ryan won't let me make love to him anymore. He rolls away, and says he's tired. Sometimes he goes out to sleep on the couch in the living area. I wish I knew what was wrong with my baby. I wish I knew what I did to make the one person who made my life worth living hate me.

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Ryan's POV

I can't stand this anymore. All Brendon does is ask what's wrong, and I tell him nothing. There's nothing wrong with me. I don't want Brendon holding me anymore, and he thinks I don't love him. But I don't want him to feel how disgustingly fat I am. It's gross. No one as perfect as he is should have to deal with hands full of all my fat.

Brendon always tries to tell me I'm perfect. I'd like to know where he learned to lie like that. He wouldn't think I was so perfect if he saw me bent over the toilet after every meal we share with my fingers down my throat. He wouldn't think I was so perfect if he saw where my food ends up if he gets up to go to the bathroom when we're at a restaraunt. Or maybe he would. Maybe he could just pretend I really was perfect if he saw the lengths I was willing to go to to keep myself semi-presentable for him. But, no. He can never see that.

I hate when Brendon looks at me. I hate seeing that look in his eyes. He looks so... disgusted. I used to think I saw lust in his eyes. Or love. Hah. I was so stupid. No one would ever lust over me. Love. I love Brendon. I really do. That's why I'm doing this. I'm doing this for Brendon. He deserves someone perfect. This isn't perfection. I'm disgusting. I'm lower than dirt. I deserve to be dead.

Sometimes our eyes meet, and I feel even worse. A lot of the time, I wind up crying. I don't think he sees it. Or maybe he does and doesn't care. Whichever, it hurts, but that just makes me cry harder. It's times like these when I just leave the room. He doesn't need me there in his presense.

I can't stand even kissing Brendon anymore. Kissing him is the best feeling in the world, but I'm always terrified he'll taste something on my breath. Some trace of vomit. Or worse, a trace of food. He's just too nice to tell me how fat I really am. He's too nice to tell me this stupid diet of mine isn't working very well. But I'm going to keep on trying. I wish I knew what I could do to make myself good enough for the love of my life. I wish I knew what I did to get Brendon. Brendon's too perfect for me. I wish I knew what I could do to keep him, because someday I'm afraid he'll realize how completely repulsive I really am.