Loving You Is Harder Than You Know

Brendon's P.O.V

Can I do anything right? Obviously hurting Ryan was never right and never will be but I'm trying to show my love and affection for him but yet I still fail at being the perfect boyfriend for Ryan. To say I feel heart broken is a understatement, there are no words to describe how I feel when I fail at making Ryan happy. I could be trying too hard, forcing my love for Ryan into a few minutes didn't really work and I could see how uncomfortable Ryan was growing. Well at least I have him back right, that's one good thing to be happy about its an accomplishment I suppose.

I crept out of his bedroom but couldn't stop myself from going back in to check on my sleeping angel. He looked so pale and weak, he's wasting away in front of me and I guess I am to blame. Maybe its too late to try and change who I am, the damage has already been done. He is still facing the wall, the only part of him visible is his brown locks tufting above the bed quilt. I want to sit beside him staring at the adorable expression he has when he's sleeping but I don't want to wake him up and startle him. That would just be another thing that I would have done wrong, not even letting him sleep.

I wish I was in bed with him right now, I felt so rejected when he turned away from me. I can feel him cringe every time I touch him, the same pained look in his eyes when I hold him closer, its not right. I walk over to his bed gently rubbing his shoulder to see if he's still awake, I really need to talk to him and I'm pretty sure him wanting to go to bed was a way of avoiding me.

"Ry are you awake," I ask him gently, he turns to look at me, blinking his big, brown orbs. He looks so washed out the dark rings under his make him look almost zombie like, dead.

"Brendon what do you want," he asks, well more like snaps but I'll ignore the fact that he obviously doesn't want me in his presence. He sits up, but makes sure the quilt is covering his chest, what's so imperfect its beautiful in my eyes. I draw my eyes away from him once, the insecurities hit him and the quilt is pulled against him tighter.

"Are you feeling okay Ry you look pale," I ask him concernedly, he just stares blankly at me, the once delicate glow of his cheeks faded. He must be freezing his skin is so white I'm surprised his lips aren't blue. But I reach out to touch his hand and he's warm maybe he's not sick after all maybe something in his mind is physically draining him.

"What is with all the questions," he says bitterly, I'm taken back by his cheek but I stop myself from hitting him. He doesn't even flinch the words just spill from his lips and then the same dull expression floods back across his face.

"Ryan please stop being difficult can't you see that I'm trying to change," I say smoothly, stopping to breathe between each word to keep my cool. I feel my fingers twitching, the anger slowly released into my veins, the urge to throw him against the wall is so overpowering it hurts.

"Just hit me Brendon I know you want to," Ryan says coldly, I stare deeper into his eyes. Nothing. He is hiding something from me, its so damn obvious. I can't believe I didn't catch on earlier, the silence, wanting to be away from me, expressing no emotion. It's obviously getting to him, the guilt unstoppable, crushing him to pieces that will never fit back together.

"I'm not going to touch you," I reply shakily, so much for the confidence. If I can't make Ryan believe I wont touch him then how can I make myself believe. I stand up and start to pace up and down the room, the tension seems to prick at me like a needle, injecting me with more hurt and confusion. What can I do, he wont listen to me, how can I make him, why should he listen to me after all I have done anyway.

"I've head that one before."

"Do you know how much you are hurting me," I tell him on the verge of tears, I try to block out the feeling of my heart ripping itself to pieces and focus my attention on stopping Ryan from making me crumble just like him.

"Please Brendon I don't know how you dare say that, like I should feel sorry for you just because you have made it though a whole hour without hurting me and I won't help you. What happens when I don't do what you say next time, will I get twice the beating because you overlooked my cheek this time. Or will you live up to the promise of throwing me down the stairs."

I can't take it anymore I walk over to him grabbing his frail arm, I yank him up from the bed and that's when I feel something crack beneath my fngers. Oh no, not again, please not again. The angel, hurt, tension everything has just surged through my fingers and physically crushed him. Ryan screams, the sound penetrating my ear drums, drilling holes into my heart. He's struggling now the screams getting louder, thicker, more agonizing. Tears spill down his cheeks, his once expressionless face crumpled with pain, a pain I caused.

"You, you broke my arm again," he sobs in horror, he sounds so innocent, child like. I want to hold him so much, kissing the pain away but the struggling angel in my arms sends me over the edge falling into darkness. I pull him over to his wardrobe my fingers still dug into his arm, I swing open the door, take a pained look at Ryan and push him into the wardrobe with my last strength. I can't face the look on his face so I slam the door shut instantly and force something between the handles so he's locked inside his own little world.

"Please Bren let me out it hurts so fucking much, I'm begging you..."

I slide down the wall, the room spinning around me like a none stop ride on a carousel. I shove my fingers into my ears trying to block out Ryan's feeble attempt to bang on the wardrobe with his unharmed arm. The screaming never stops, the pain never stops, will I ever stop?

"I'm sorry Ry, so very sorry."