Falling ♡ Timothée Chalamet

31 - broken

I kick violently at the gravel, trying to picture I'm on soft grass with a soccer ball in front of me that I can kick around and unleash my anger out on.

Even though picturing it doesn't really work, I still kick my foot around, and get my white sneakers dirty with dust and mud trying to pretend the rocks beneath me are various soccer balls.

I feel like a total bitch.

I went too hard on him, but at least I was honest. I didn't lie, I didn't sugarcoat the truth either. I told him how I felt and even if it hurt to say it and to watch him crumble before me, at least he knows I love him so much that I can't bear to watch him leave me.

I pass by my old house, the house that used to haunt my sleep. That I hated coming back to. My father's car is parked outside and I wait for an eerie feeling to settle upon me but seeing the house, and having the memories flood back into my mind didn't faze me at all.

I just kept walking, as if it meant nothing.

With every step my heart cracked a little bit more, and with every sob that wracked my body I kept telling myself to sit down, to take a break, but my feet kept moving even though it was all too painful to handle.

I've never felt heartbreak like this before. Never felt like it was this difficult to keep walking on my own two feet. He hasn't left yet but I still feel his absence. I still picture how hard it will be to spend days without him, days which will turn into weeks and months and years without him.

He was my everything. He still is my everything. But I'm not special enough to have a hold on him that will keep him here. I'm also not selfish enough to convince him to stay.

It's his future in the end. I won't keep him from following his dreams because I know I'm not worth it. I was not worthy of my mother's protection, of my brother's care and not worthy of Timothée's love.

I was never worth it.

The forty minute walk felt like it took days. Once I see the familiar gate to my apartment I try to get myself together again. Wiping my tears, steadying my breaths, pinching my arms once again. However, this time I lift the leather jacket up higher to reveal my skin.

My arm aches from the amount of abuse I directed towards it but as always it helped. I was finally able to let out a deep but still shaky breath. I push the gate open and immediately I spot Drew on one of the benches. I don't know why but I quietly walk over to him and sit down beside him pulling my sleeve back down.

For a long moment he's quiet but then he clears his throat. 'You look sad.' He says craning his neck to study me and my expression.

My eyes are most probably puffy, which is indication enough that I just finished crying my eyes out. I nod. 'I'm always sad, I'm just way too tired to pretend I'm not anymore.' I reply.

Drew wraps an arm around me and let's me rest my head on his shoulder. He rubs my arm gently and tries his best to comfort me, that triggers the sobs that I've been holding back ever since I walked through the gate.

He seems surprised at first, but then he registers just how sorrowful I am and both of his arms are wrapping me up in a tight hug. 'Is it your dad?' He asks, and I hear anger written all over his voice.

I shake my head, unable to utter the word no. 'Is it your boyfriend then?' He asks and I nod this time, my cries getting louder and my shoulders shaking even more.

I pinch the arm that's he's caressing and I bite my tongue to stop from crying out even louder. 
I think I'm falling back into old habits and I don't care enough to stop myself anymore. Drew speaks up again. 'I'm going to kill him.' He murmurs under his breath and I immediately escape his grasp, looking him dead in the eye.