Loving You Is Harder Than You Know

Ryan's P.O.V

He's not moving anymore, I'm pretty sure the delicate rise and fall of his chest stopped the last time I looked, maybe he is dead. In my arms. He's deadly cold, I don't bother wrapping a blanket around his pale skin, I just leave him all exposed to anything what would kill him faster. His lips are so blue, I gently pressed mine against is, the coldness sending chills through my body, I can taste death on his mouth, and it leaves a funny aftertaste lingering on my own lips. I try to sit him up but he just flops back against my chest again and I sigh in defeat.

Am I really going to just leave him to die, those eyes full of hatred shut forever?

I'm guessing he left some sort of note, you know the usual suicide note full of reasons of why you have never been or never will be happy with your life, you apologize for what your doing but your selfish, you threw away your life not thinking about the feelings of others. Brendon's creative though he will probably manage to throw a metaphor into it or insult me, he will want to be known as the heartless bastard with a good imagination, trust me.

I have to think about what I'm going to do next, I know its wrong but I think about what Brendon would do in this position and reassure myself that it's okay. Knowing Brendon he would have kicked me in the head numerous times or threw my lifeless body down the stairs. I stand up I thought about laying Bren on the couch but I know very well I will struggle to even pick him a few centimeters off the ground. So I just leave him, as soon as my skinny frame stops supporting him he drops to the floor like a rag doll, his arm hanging loosely by his side, his legs in awkward angles.

It's there shining like the most beautiful thing I have every laid eyes on as it sits on the kitchen table. Then pen by its side, the stool pulled out. I walk over to it, I pick it up and smooth out the paper with my trembling fingers, I hold it against my chest. Hoping the ink would leak into my heart, the letter constantly imprinted into my most vital organ, if your hearts not beating, your dead. But what do they all say, listen to your heart, apparently it knows what's best for you, of course a piece of ugly reddish brown muscle can solve your darkest problems. Anyway I better read it, maybe whatever message this sends across may stop me from leaving Brendon to die lonely on the living room floor.

Dearest Ryan.

Dearest Ryan, what's that supposed to mean. A sudden change of the heart, a little too late for my liking. Anyway back to the note.

I'm going to make this short I know you liked to get straight to the point. When you walked into this house I'm guessing I was a muttering fool dying before you, sorry if you saw me that way I was hoping I would be dead before you came to find me, well a guy can wish can't he. Anyway I did love you, your probably saying something like sure you fucking did but I don't care, I'll know what I felt when I was with you even if you never will. Puzzled over how I did this? Sleeping pills, you remember when I got them cause I could never sleep, well I blamed that on you. It wasn't, the guilt ate away at me at night, how could I sleep in the same bed as you after what I've done. I swear I though I was going to throw up when I saw you topless in the bedroom that night, god if I could do anything to remove those scars I would. Well I guess this is goodbye, you know I thought you sleeping with Jon was horrid but now I think about it I deserved it so good on you Ry! I loved calling you Ry its such a cute name... Anway I love you, don't bury me next to some weirdo or anything stupid like that please and make sure you keep my guitar, I'd learn you how to play but you see being dead makes that difficult.

Brendon xx

Oh god Bren.

"Brendon!" I scream, the panic is awake, the note in my hand is scrunched between my fingers. I'm killing him, I kissed his lips and walked away, I'm a coward, a horrible excuse of a boyfriend. You know when you say I love you to death, what does is really mean. Does it mean your love is never ending, or you will just love them until there a corpse in the ground. I'm praying to god that in my case loving Brendon to death means I will love him forever cause I'm not ready to let go, I have to hold on with all my might.

So I ring the ambulance and manage to say between sobs that my boyfriend has took an overdose, even though this doesn't seem real at all. I tried shaking him, pounding my fist hard against his silent chest but he just flopped around, eyes snapped shut. Its all thanks to me, his so called lover, more like traitor. I think about taking the pills, re-acting out a modern day Romeo and Juliet but then what if I die and Brendon survives how the hell would he feel then. I just sit there the smell of death still attacking my nostrils, the weird chill in the air is just plain creepy. It's like he's lost his soul, its just floating away into the nothingness, his body is just sleeping forever.

I tried talking to him, memories and such. But he is just flopped in my arms unresponsive and lifeless and its not like I can do anything more. The ambulance will come and I'll see the disappointment in their eyes, the disgust riddled all over their face. He wont be known as Brendon the sick, heartless abuser, he'll just be the boy who tried to commit suicide. He'll scream mentally unstable, nobody will treat him the same, he'll be so fragile and when he wakes up I have a feeling everything is just going to come. The anger, guilt, tears, love, hate. That's if he does wake up. Everything is too much, the bubble has burst and everything has been let out, there will be no more secrets, lies, insults it will just be stripped down to the raw truth. After all this time I will really know if he loved me, I wont have to question that every morning when I open my eyes and see my empty bed without him beside me.

After the longest wait I will probably ever have to endure the knocking on the door starts, the pound of their fists on the door sends thuds through my heart. I can't keep my eyes off of him, I back away to the door slowly, not even bothering to turn around and walk the correct way. When my back hits the door my eyes snap shut and my breathing becomes erratic. Just let them in and everything is going to okay. Screw the looks and judgment's, your the only one who knows who the real boy near to dead on the floor is.

I get a firm grip on the handle, my eyes flash open and I swing open the door. The paramedics walk inside, my stomach churns when the rush over to him, oh god he's going to kill me for ever letting him look so exposed and having them touching him. I turn away, chewing vigorously on my lip letting the silent tears slip down my cheeks. Why me, why after all this does he get to be the one who kills himself. Is this just away of him redeeming himself, we are equal now, his punishment nearly resulted in death. Does he know how much this hurts, because I know very well that I feel more pain than he does.

"Excuse me can you tell me his name."

"I can't find a pusle!"

"Do you know what he's took."

"Sleeping pills," I mutter bitterly not even turning to look at them, I think about running, feeling the wind pass through my hair as I skip into my freedom but no. My feet are glued to the floor, I'm stiff, stricken with desperation. He can't die, he can't do this to me after all we have been through. God I hate him for making me love him, I really hate him.

Sleeping pills, fucking sleeping pills...