Your Love is my Drug

I reached into my pocket and grabbed my key, opening the door and slamming it. Everything was the same, every detail. He hadn’t moved anything. The picture of us on the fridge was still sitting there, though there was a magnet over my face, my stuff was still lying around.

I sighed, going to the closet and grabbing a box. Quickly, I started throwing everything that belonged to me inside of it. Anything that belonged to the both of us would stay. I made my way into the bedroom and opened the closet.

I started tearing everything off of the hangers and out of the drawers. It was in a rage, just throwing every article of my clothing onto the floor. I was on a rampage. I then went into the underwear drawer and tore those out, followed by my books, electronics and CDS.

When I turned around, breathing heavily, I saw a huge pile of stuff in the middle of the floor. I was well aware that I was bawling, sweating and tired. I was angry, sad, guilt-filled, and hurt.

“What the fuck?”

I looked up and saw Brent standing there, staring at the pile. His eyes darted to mine. I just shook my head and let out a cry of desperation, covering my face with my hands.

“Leah...” He sighed, and dropped his bag.

I realized that I was stupid to come here without bags. I couldn’t possibly fit this all into one box. This was years of things. I was an idiot thinking he wouldn’t come home and I was an absolute moron for piling everything in the center of the room.

Surprisingly though, he didn’t move. He didn’t leave, or yell, he just stood there.

“I’m so sorry!” I wept, dropping my hands and looking at his hurt face, “I never wanted t-to hurt you. I l-love you, you’re my b-best friend! D-don’t hate him e-either, Brent.”

He snapped, “That’s what I don’t fucking get!” he yelled, “He’s sleeping with my fucking GIRLFRIEND and I’m not allowed to hate him? What the fuck is up with that?!”

“He wanted to tell you!” I yelled, almost breathless, “And I started it! This is your TEAM, y-you’re career, d-don’t throw it away.”

“I’m not throwing it away,” he said bitterly, sneering, “I hit him, that’s it. He’s lucky I didn’t break his fucking neck.”

“STOP!” I screamed, kicking the CD’S off of the top of the pile, sending them crashing into the wall, “Just stop! I shouldn’t have slept with him... I’m sorry that I hurt you, I wish I could take it back, I never wanted to do this to you Brent.”

He shook his head, “Well you did and you can’t take it back. Don’t tell me you regret fucking him because you don’t. Do you?”

I stared at him, narrowing my tearful eyes, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms, “its true isn’t it? While you were cheating on me, you fell in love with that fucker.”

I groaned, “I’m just going to leave.”

“Why can’t you talk about it?!” He screamed, and I saw nothing but pure hatred in his eyes, “This is YOUR mistake, don’t you think I deserve some explanation? All I know is you were fucking one of my best friend for three months, behind my back.”

I wiped my face, still in tears, “I’m just going to go.”

I moved around the pile and walked to the door, squeezing past him. I was near the stairs when his hand caught mine and in a whisper, he said, “Wait.”

I turned slowly and he walked forwards, putting his hands on either side of my face and kissing me. It had more love, passion and pain than ever. He’d never kissed me like this before. I kissed back, feeling that familiar little flutter in the pit of my stomach, like the beginning of us.

He pulled his face away, “I can’t be with you,” he whispered, nose on mine, “But I’m so in love with you, Leah.”

I held onto his hands, which were still on either side of my face, “I didn’t deserve you.”

He kissed my lips softly and looked me dead in the eyes, “Just go Leah.”

I did, but as I walked out, I heard the closet door open and the boxes being pulled out. I knew I’d never be back. I took one look at the place, looking at the picture on the fridge. That’s who he’d remember me as.