Loving You Is Harder Than You Know

Ryan's P.O.V

Darkness floods into the small claustrophobic wardrobe I have forced myself into. My knees are pushed close to my chest, due to lack of space seeing as this wardrobe holds hundreds of my floral patterned shirts. My breathing is calm, evenly paced, my once heaving chest rises and falls gently. The silence is heavenly, my dark surroundings calming. It feels good to be alone and unseen. Away from him...

You may wonder who this mysterious creature known as him is. But if you knew what type of monster he is you would wish you had never opened your lips to ask about him. His angle like features are simply a mask hiding his true, sick identity. His shaggy mop of hair balances above his deadly, piercing eyes. Thick, pink lips curse me, shout at me, destroy me. For he is called Brendon, my boyfriend. Okay he is my boyfriend but I would rather think of him as my abusive, heart wrenching, broken lover.

I thought Brendon was the most beautiful human being to grace this planet. He made me feel loved, special, wanted... His slightest touch made me quiver with pleasure, his soft voice was music to my ears, those puppy dog eyes slowly melted my heart. But that was the old Brendon, who will never exist again. The Brendon who cuddled me close at night, sang to me, never stopped loving me.

But Brendon changed.

His once endless love for me turned to pure hatred and venom.

I don't want to go into intense detail about what he does to me, the thought brings warm tears to threaten my eyes. I can stand the odd insult, skittish remark or jab he throws at me. But its when he gets violent, that's when I truly start to fear for my worthless life. I don't care that he isolates me from the world, secluding me in hate and torture. The thing what weakness me the most is thought of never having that once magical relationship back again. The saddest thing is that no matter how hard he beats me or tries to mentally destroy me I will still always love him with all of my heart. Always.

Brendon left hours ago, he shut all the curtains, switched off all the lights and locked the door. To make out that nobody is in the house and to make sure I don't try to escape from his intimidating clutches. I constantly tell him that I would never run away, because he means too much to me. But he thinks I'm an impulsive liar, and that if he meant so much to me then I would stop being so pathetic and stupid. Per usual I agreed with everyone that came out of his mouth and told him I would be perfect. No human being is perfect. But Brendon expects me to be.

When Brendon told me who he was venturing out with today, my heart sunk like a ship. Him and Spencer were going to watch some over dramatic horror movie and then they were going for a causal drink with some of his other delusional friends. It wasn't the thought on not being invited what hurt me, it was the thought of seeing Brendon laughing, joking, smiling with my once best friend.

Spencer and me had been friends since high school, we didn't care that to the school we were the freaks who apparently spent all of our free time listening to depressing music and slitting our wrists. We had each other and that's all we needed. As we grew older we still kept the strong friendship bond until Brendon got into the equation. He poisoned Spencer's mind with lies, turned him against me and he has never spoke to me since. He's Brendons new best friend now and I'm pretty sure Spencer knows about the hell Brendon puts me through and supports it.

Before he left he punched me in the stomach until the contents of it spilled out of me. He said it was a reasonable punishment for me asking too many personal questions. I only asked him where he was going but its Brendon and I was not surprised when he hit me. I just squeezed my eyes painfully shut and tried to block out his fist colliding with my stomach until it was over. As soon as I heard the slamming of the door my legs took control and I collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor. I desperately clung onto the toilet bowl throwing up violently, and letting the tears escape from my eyes. This is what he dose to me, reducing me to a shaking mess covered in my own vomit.

That's why Im shoved into the wardrobe, it doesn't smell like Brendon, remind me of him, it just blocks out any of my dead memories about him. I sigh softly, it should not be like this, I should be out with Brendon, holding hands, kissing, having the time of our lives. Instead I'm hiding from the world, I'm losing myself, who I really am. I'm not the Ryan who played guitar, constantly carried a writing book around with me and loved smiling. I'm the complete opposite I'm becoming everything I hate.

I'm about to open the wardrobe door when I hear the door being opened downstairs and voices emerging. That can mean only thing, Brendons back. I am already petrified because my heart has started thumping, my legs immediately turned to jelly. I swallow what felt like a footballs sized thump in my throat and quietly shut the door again. If he doesn't know where I am he can't hurt me.

But I can't live the rest of my life in a wardrobe...