We All Roll Along

FIDM, California. Eleven years ago - 2009.

I lay on my bed, back on the mattress, staring at the ceiling, feeling utterly blissful. I turned my head and my eyes locked with his. With Pat’s.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss me.

I kissed him back. Pat’s hands ran up and down my back, eventually letting themselves run a little lower, then stopping on my upper thigh. I pulled him closer to me, my hand on the back of his neck. His lips moved off of mine and down my neck and down farther and farther. Soon the hem of my underwear was between his teeth, slowly being pulled down causing a moan to tumble out of my mouth. The next moment his lips were back on mine, gently kissing on my bottom lip. “Pat, I love you,” my hands slipping down the front of his pants. These words easily slipped from my lips like they had been said many times before. Too many times. Next thing I knew my mouth was full, sucking in hard, Pat’s hands on the back of my head, pushing his cock further into my mouth.

“Aw, shit,” I heard Pat say, his hands coming away from my head and to my hands, helping me get up. “I’ve got to pack for tour.”

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to say anything. It was always like this. He’d get his pants off and his cock down my throat and then find someway to stop; not go any farther.

But I couldn’t help myself. The words were out before I knew it.“Every fuckin’ time.” I muttered, hoping Pat didn’t hear.

Obviously, I was wrong. He stopped buttoning up his close fitting dark blue jeans and turned his head to me. “Pardon?” he asked, rhetorically, sounding a little hurt.

“I-I-” my voice cracked and shook. Get it together, Deidee! I told myself. “I said,” Damnit. That was much too loud. But I was steady. “You do this every time Pat!” Shit. I was yelling. Defiantly yelling. Please make this stop. “Every goddamn time.”

“You think I want to stop, Deidee? You don’t think I feel bad that every time I cut it off? Because if you do, there is seriously something fucked up there. I don’t want to pack for tour, ok? But I have to eat some how. Not all of us can afford to study whatever the hell they please at some University miles away from home.” That last line. It hurt. “I at least make the effort to come out here and see you. I don’t see you flying out to Arizona every weekend for me.” That one hurt even more.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” my hands shook. Instinctively I sat down on my bed, grasping a pillow tightly in my hands. “I do put in a hell of an effort into this relationship! You don’t think I have better things to be doing than swallowing your fucking dick every weekend?” That was it. I had lost control. The pillow I’d so tightly clung onto hurled almost automatically from my hands, in the direction of Pat. There. I’d done it. I knew that was coming next.

“Maybe you wouldn’t if. . . you weren’t such a whore.” Ok. I didn’t see that coming. As he said that, it grew quieter and quieter, as if he was realizing the actual words he was saying. And that he was saying them to me.

“W-w-what?” The word barely made it out of my mouth before tears appeared in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks.

“Oh, Deidee.” Pat ran over to me, my knees up around my chest, arms hugging them tightly, “I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t. Things always get out of hand. I’m so sorry.”

“Get off of me!” I tried to yell at him. I wasn’t going to be some pushover and take him back. I swallowed hard before looking at him, trying to give him the meanest look I could. Tried and failed.

“I love you,” he whispered on an exhale into my throat.

“Why do we have to fight?” I kissed his cheek, giving in right away, after wiping my tears away. “I love you too.”

It was like that for months. Years, actually. Two and a half painfully blissful years. You see, the first year and a half while I was at FIDM things were easy. My school work wasn’t too bad so I could still go and visit Pat and my family in Arizona on weekends - not just holidays. During my breaks from school I’d tour with Pat and the rest of The Maine for a few days. I admired Pat for being so brave and strong - touring on his own for such long periods of time at such a young age. That recognition of a young age never seemed to click in with our relationship. There I treated him like a grown person, expecting him to make only mature choices. No mistakes. And look how our relationship was going.

The last two and a bit years were absolute hell. Fight after fight. There was never any doubt that I loved him, though. I thought I loved him. Then I met Zack. If you’ve done your math, you will have figured out that I was with Zack for a year when I was still with Pat. Yes - I cheated. Affair. Whatever you want to call it. But with Zack I was calm. There was no fighting. I didn’t break up with Pat because I was scared to. Of being alone. It’s selfish I know; but I thought that if I broke up with Pat, what if things didn’t work with Zack? What if it was just a fling? It took me a year to figure it out. A whole fucking year. It took me a while to see the differences between Pat and Zack. Zack took the time to get to know me, not get in my pants. And Pat and I; there was no real friendship established. We’d been a little physical from the start. Ok, try a lot.

The summer when I’d graduated I was only with Zack. At my graduation, actually, I broke up with Pat. I did tell him about Zack, eventually - I’m too honest to keep something like that from Pat. I did still love him, but I couldn’t deal with the fighting anymore. His touring had always been a hassle, and I knew Zack toured too, but at least I could go with Zack. I was graduated, and All Time Low had enough money for buses. I could be with Zack. And with Zack I was happy. Though that didn’t mean I was over Pat.

“Pat,” I looked at him. His face was happy, in contrast to my sombre one.

It was my graduation day from FIDM. I was still wearing my black robe and cap. I carefully tried to take off my cap, not messing my done up hair. “Let me help you with that, hun.” Pat gently pulled away my hands and unpinned my cap from my head, taking it off leaving my hair unscathed.

Why is he making this so hard. I looked over his shoulder to see Zack leaning against a tree, a bouquet of tulips. My favourite. Zack did know that I was still with Pat. I don’t think I could have pulled of both of them being in the dark about one another. Plus, Zack deserved to know. And he understood. He’d wait. God, he was so patient.

“There,” he handed my cap to me, smiling like a fool, giving me a quick hug before launching into a giddy rant. “Congratulaions!” he told me for what seemed like the billionth time, “I’m so glad you are finally done with school. I mean, it’s awesome that you went, but now you can tour with me and the guys and we can be together more often. I think that is our problem Dei, we don’t see enough of each other.” He stopped to take a breath and looked right at me. “God, you look beautiful.”

My focus moved away from Zack and back to Pat. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Pat, I don’t think I can tour with you. Actually, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other any more.” There it was out. Only if I could just walk away. Away from it all. But that was not the case.

There was no other word then in shock to describe his face. “So. Um. Er. You don’t want to be together any more?”

“No. I’m sorry, Pat. I know it sounds stupid and meaningless, but I truly still love you. I do. But I can’t do this any more.”

“Do what?”

“Jeez - you know very well! Fighting! See? Here we are doing it again. My point proven.”

“You are breaking up with me, Deidee, of course there will be fighting. What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t expect anything.”

Pat and I stood across from each other for a long while, in silence.

“So.” Silence broken. “Why the sudden change of heart?” Pat bit his lower lip; he never could control that nervous habit.

“Oh, Pat,” I could feel the heat rising in my face. Don’t cry I pleaded to myself. Pat stepped forward and tried to put his arms around me, my hands covering my eyes so he wouldn’t see me cry. I just backed away from him, away from his touch.

I shouldn’t have done that.

“I’m sorry. . . it’s just. . . I’ve . . . I really don’t know how to say this. I don’t want to hurt you.” He just raised his eyebrows at my statement. I knew what it meant. Sure. I knew I’d already hurt him. But how are you supposed to break up with someone, sans the hurt?

“Just tell me, Dei. You’ve already broken up with me. I don’t think it can get much worse.”

Actually, it can. “Pat, sit down,” I lead him over to a bench, a few feet away from were we stood on the campus lawn. I looked over at Zack, sweetly waiting for me. I smiled; I knew I could do this. I had to. I needed to only be with Zack.

“Pat - it was getting to be too much for me. We fought all the time. I thought I was in love with you, until I met-”

“So you met someone else? Those four years just mean nothing to you? It’s alright, I got it.” The words streamed out of his mouth. He got up and looked at me, shaking his head.

“I guess this is goodbye, Coffee Lady.” Pat turned and walked away.

And that was when my heart broke.