Loving You Is Harder Than You Know

Ryan's P.O.V

I just watched you die. Flat line and all. I was sat by your side, too scared to grip onto your pale hand, I just sat and stared. I started to chew on my lip, feeling awkward and uncomfortable, your just lying there all innocent and broken. I think your alive now, I saved you and your going to be just fine. I reach out tentatively, the tip of my fingers brushing against your knotted hair, I carry on trailing my finger down your cheek hoping you would twitch or anything. Just a sign that you were still with me, still holding on. But then the machine they've got you hooked on to starts to bleep furiously and I come out of my own little dream world. I turn to look at it, the feeling of numbness starts to overcome me. You still look so peaceful, maybe too peaceful, but still you don't look like your about to die. By the time the doctors got to you I was gone like the coward I am, sat in the cafeteria gripping onto a coffee and shaking.

Thank you Brendon, for making me watch you crumble before my eyes twice in one heart wrenching day.

I should go back to his room, he could be sat all alone right now scared out of his confused, sick mind. He will just be laid there being prodded and poked, he wont know what's happening but he'll just lay there stiff and silent, torture held inside. He knows I hate coffee, I only drink it when I'm in this damned place, its leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but the bitterness from the drink is bearable, its takes away the pain of my heart slowly leaking. I'm surprised the staff don't know me by now, the hospital nearly came to be one of my daily visits, cuts, broken bones, once Brendon beat me so hard I passed out and he decided he would just throw me in the back of his car and make out that he had found me on the lawn of our front garden. Lying bastard.

At least for once he gets the taste of his own medicine, he's the one laid in the hard, lumpy bed dressed, in the ridiculously, itchy hospital gown.

I stand up looking around, my head starts spinning, the pain throbbing through my aching skull. The coffee is still hovering above the rim of the cup, untouched. No amount of coffee will eliminate the pain in my heart this time. I stuff my hands into my front pockets, dropping my head low as I make my way out of the cafeteria and to Brendon's room. I don't know what to expect I'm no doctor, what's all I know is that he's a fighter and he wants to live he will. Or more like he has to or my whole world will cave in.

My legs start to stiffen up when I get closer to the room, my skin starts tingling and my stomach racing. The door is shut, whether Brendon is behind it or not is about to be answered, just a twist of the door knob and my eyes will be wide to what's there. A plain white room, or a stripped down, hurt version of my boyfriend. I can't take. I push open the door and my eyes flicker open slowly. First I see pink lips parted slightly, then a pair of watery brown eyes, he's still alive, I feel one of the pitiful holes in my heart healing when his eyes meet mine.

"Hey," he says softly, but the softness is nothing compared to the rough scratchiness of it. Come on Ry say something back, if he can be brave enough to speak up you can.

"Hi Bren," I say quietly, a small smile tugs at his lips when I call him Bren, we have always been Bren and Ry, not Brendon and Ryan. Cute nicknames are nothing really, but I liked being treat as Ry, Ryan is a nobody a pathetic boy he can walk all over. But Ry is an innocent, ball of insecurities who he can coo all over.

"I never really planned what I was going to say to you, I didn't think I would be opening my eyes again," he says shamefully, his head drops and I notice his hands have started shaking. Well at least I'm not the only one who feels nervous. I itch the back of my neck uncomfortably and stare at the blank white wall in front of me. I still feel Brendon's stare on me, he's waiting for a response but I have nothing, everything is to overwhelming, my stomach is rotting, eating away at its self. Sick, sick, sick. That's all I feel.

"You broke up with me, your left me Brendon, if you had just listening to me you wouldn't be in this position. I had sex with Jon, but do you blame me! How many guys have you had behind my back, ten, twenty, a hundred? But no you couldn't take it, perfect Ryan who stayed on his leash and never did anything wrong, hurt you. You got hurt Bren and you turned to suicide. If your strong enough to abuse your boyfriend your strong enough to ignore a broken heart. So don't ever think that by you doing this we are equal, cause your making me sick. I was going to leave you to die, that's how much I hate you. Your letter must have helped cause I rung for the ambulance and now your here feeling a sad and sorry for yourself. I should just leave now..."

"No, don't leave me," he whimpers at the tiniest whisper I have ever heard, how can he sound so fragile, how can he look a misunderstood boy with problems. He's an abuser who tried to kill himself cause his boyfriend had sex with another boy. His eyes tell stories I don't want to know, lies that's all they show, lies.

"Are you okay," he asks weakly, I look up at him glaring so hard.

"Do I look okay!" I hiss at him, I don't know whether to hold him close, hugging and kissing, telling him everything is going to be okay. Or rip him from those bloody machines and watch him die. How can he all of a sudden turn into a mess, a mess that aches for attention and needs someone to be a constant mental and physical crutch for them. I can't hold him together when I struggling just to stop myself from falling apart.

"Your never going to forgive me are you," Brendon mumbles, his eyes grow wide, tears slowly fill his beautiful brown orbs and cascade down his pale cheeks. I look at him, the urge to hold him is so bad its ripping through my ribs desperate to beg my heart to help him.

"Please don't cry," it comes out so quickly, I'm supposed to be raging at him, screaming my way through the past years of hell. But no what's all I can feel is my heart melting as each tear drips down his cheeks. I feel sorry for him, I know I shouldn't but he was never prepared for any of this. He thought he was going to take the stupid pills and never wake up then everything would be fine.

"I'm so sorry Ry," he sobs, I walk over to him immediately grabbing his hand and holding onto it tightly. I don't really know what I'm doing, Brendon is still sniffing but the tears are drying up, he seems a little happier I suppose. I lean in and press my lips against his, I never knew a kiss so small could make my heart flutter like this. I wiped away a stray tear from his cheek, shuddering from the wetness on my fingertip.

"I guess we have some talking to do," I sigh, the grip on my hand gets tighter, I feel his fingernails digging deeper into my skin. I look into his eyes, there just wide and blinking, no hate, no nothing. I think this is the right thing to do, running away from my problems is never a good thing but staying with someone who abuses you I don't know.

"I love you Ry, you know that right," Brendon asks quietly, vulnerably.

"I don't know Bren, I really don't know."