You've Got This Silly Way of Keeping Me on the Edge of My Seat

I sighed as I looked inside of the crumpled pack of cigarettes I'd just taken out of my pocket. One left. I've been smoking these babies like crazy lately. I'd just opened the pack this morning on my way in to work, and here I am, sitting on the curb outside of Guitar Center, with one measly little cigarette left. I was waiting for him to pick me up. Again. Like I did every night at this time. I sighed again as I inhaled an extra long drag off of what seemed to be my lifeline.

"You okay, dude?" asked a voice from behind me. I smiled when I realized who it was.

"Yeah, Mikey. I'm fine. Just fucking tired," I said to my tall, skinny friend with his adorable glasses. He was my best friend, actually. My only real friend...

"Yeah man... I can't believe how busy we were today. I'm pretty tired myself," he replied, taking a seat on the ground next to me.

I nodded my head, but not in agreement. Mikey meant he was tired as in exhausted; I was tired of fucking everything. My "perfect" little life with my "perfect" boyfriend. Everything seemed to already be set in stone for me. I should be happy. Ecstatic, even. Some people wait their entire lives to find someone to be happy with, someone to call their own, someone to fall in love with.

Well, I found somebody. We've been together for four years - well, four and a half to be exact. I was happy. I did have him to call my own, and I did fall in love with him. But... for some reason, I was so fucking sick of him... our relationship.... I was sick of everything.

"You sure you're okay dude?" Mikey's words hit me like a ton of bricks, bringing me completely out of my thoughts. "How are things with you and Brendon?"

Brendon. Just the mere mention of his name sent so many different emotions through my body, it was unreal.

"We're good, I guess. I just-" I started to say, but then was cut off by the realization that I was about to actually say something about my personal life that I think I might regret if I actually said it out loud. Because you know, if you say it out loud, that means it might actually be true. If you hold it all in, you can pretend everything is fine.

Mikey may be my best friend, but we really didn't really know much of anything when it came to each other's personal lives. We could talk for hours and hours about our favorite music and movies and animes, but rarely ever talked about our relationships, where we grew up, etc. I knew he had a girlfriend named Alyssa, but that's only because she often came in to bother him while he was at work. I could tell he didn't want to be concerned with her while he was working, sort of in the same way I felt about Brendon.

I mean fuck, I live with him. I am with him every waking minute of the day except for when I'm at work. Work isn't even work for me, of course it's my paycheck and I dearly need that paycheck, but work is my sanctuary; it is my escape.

"Just what, Frank?" Mikey asked, nudging me slightly. I cleared my throat and just as I was about to speak, I noticed Brendon's red Mustang pulling into the parking lot.

"Nothing, dude. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" I replied, putting on a smile and tossing away my cigarette. I gave him our little goodbye hand gesture before I got into my boyfriend's car. Our hand gesture was pretty silly really, but it was something done strictly between me and Mikey, which made it sort of special to me. It's just two people making rock and roll devil signs with their fingers and interlocking them together. Yeah, I told you it was silly.

"Hey hunnybunny, sorry I'm late," Brendon said, kissing my cheek. "How was work?"

"It's okay. It was fine. You know, the usual," I replied unenthusiastically as we peeled out of the parking lot and made our way home.

Later that night...

I was laying on the couch by myself, covered up with a blanket, not really paying attention to what was on the television set. We had Tivo, which was excellent, but I had absolutely no urge to put something worth watching on. I just laid there, staring aimlessly in front of me.

Brendon and I lived in a two-bedroom apartment, a very nice one at that. His sister worked as apartment manager so we got a really sweet discount on rent every month, which he paid. He worked as manager of some mail room in this huge business downtown, I never really bothered getting the details from him. All I know is he made fucking BANK since getting that job after he graduated college last spring. It was now October, just a few weeks before my birthday. I was excited about that, and the fact that I was currently sitting out the semester at school made me pretty excited too.

I really had no urge to go back this semester. My grades from last semester really suffered from a mixture of taking some pretty hard classes and some personal issues between me and Brendon. Even though this year of our lives had been breakup free (which is quite an accomplishment for us, by the way), I've still been sorting through some very difficult issues that has to do with him and it just... fucked up my head and distracted me from school. Plus, I really needed to work more so I could save up for a car of my own. I hated that he had to bring me everywhere. He made me feel more like a burden than his boyfriend. So, I decided it'd be best to work straight through this semester - not just work as in earn some money but work on getting my life back in order.

For instance, the more I thought about my future with Brendon, the more uncertain I felt about it. I needed to fucking figure out why I was having those thoughts and needed to get my priorities in check. I mean, I did love him. Four and a half years together, of course I loved him. Just... why did every little thing he did annoy me to no fucking end?

Like right now, as I'm sitting here watching TV by myself, he's in the computer room (the second bedroom) playing World of Warcraft. I'm not dissing WoW, not at all. Just, he's fucking addicted to it and it drives me up the goddamn wall. He'll sit there and play for hours and hours on end, sometimes til 2 or 3 in the morning. It shouldn't bother me, but it does. It really bothers me, and he knows it. Hell, one of the breakups (breakup #3 to be exact) was due to him fucking around on me with someone he met on there! He met someone on the game, broke up with me, and drove six hours to go and fuck her. Yes, you heard me, I said her.

I knew he had several girlfriends before we got together, but when he met me, he told me he realized why his heterosexual relationships never worked out. He thought he was completely gay but then went and fucked some chick he met online. Sure, buddy. I'm not buying that one for a second.

So needless to say, him playing online with folks from all around the fucking world really didn't sit too well with me. I mean, why worry about him screwing around with the hot little guy that works at Starbucks or the skanky little whore that works at the mall when I knew he had driven fucking six hours to bang some chick? He spent the whole fucking week with her, before realizing he had to return home eventually. And my God. When he returned home, I was so pitiful. I took him back like it was nothing. Like I took him back every fucking time.

The terms of us getting back together was him quitting World of Warcraft and never talking to her again... so what does he do? He goes and simply got a new user name and continued playing the game. I hated the way he clearly had no respect for my feelings or how his actions would make me feel. And the sad thing is, I do absolutely nothing about it. I just sit here, with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of Jack and Coke on the floor, not bothering to get up and telling him to knock it off because if I did.......... then he'd come and hang out with me. Or worse, try to get me to fucking sleep with him.

Don't get me wrong, we always slept in the same bed together. We hadn't had sex in awhile, and I liked to keep it that way. For some reason, I hated the thought of him touching me. Whenever he did finally come to bed, I'd pretend to already be asleep if I wasn't already.

It was never supposed to be like this...

I smiled as I took the last sip from my beloved weapon of choice. This was becoming more and more of a routine, but I didn't care. I was never one to drink a lot and when I did, it was only when we went out on the weekends. Now, I drink because it's Tuesday. I really don't need a reason to drink, except for the fact that drinking made me happy and kept me fucking sane.

I walked to the kitchen with every intention of refilling my glass, but was stopped by the picture of Brendon and I hanging on the refrigerator door. I never really noticed that it was there before, but for some reason this time it caught my eye. It was a picture of the two of us from the first year we were together. Tears welled up in my eyes as I held the picture of the two smiling boys with their arms wrapped tightly around each other. I hardly recognized either of them. Brendon didn't change much, his black hair was still short and spiked up in the front. He did have braces in that picture, which made me laugh.

He was adorable with his braces, he pulled them off nicely. As for me, my hair was on the short side in that picture, and I had my lip and nose ring. I still had my lip ring, but took the nose ring out for some reason or another and never felt like putting it back in. My brown hair was longer now, sort of shaggy looking but I liked it. I don't know what it was, but something about this picture struck me. It wasn't just the physical differences, I know a lot can change in four years. It's just that in this picture... I looked so happy. I was happy. At that time, I was so happy; I was so in love with him. He made me feel so alive, like nothing else in the world mattered except for me and him.

Where did that happiness go...?

I sighed and wiped the tears that had formed with my sleeve, and continued to bring my favorite beverage to life. However, when I went to return the Coke back to the fridge I was met by that picture again. I sat my drink on the counter, and walked into the computer room. I appeared next to Brendon, who was talking and laughing into the mic that was attached to the headset he was wearing. I sighed and put on a forced smile.

"Oh hey babyheart. I'll be finishing up in a little while, okay?" he said, turning to me and finally realizing I was there.

"It's okay, take your time. I just wanted to say I love you," I said giving him a kiss on his forehead. I really did love him, I really did mean it. I heard him mutter something about loving me too, but I had already left the room.

I picked up my beloved guitar and the glass I'd sat on the counter earlier, and walked out onto the balcony. We had a really nice setup out there, it wasn't very big but it was big enough for a table and two chairs. I sat the glass on the table and lit up another cigarette and started playing one of my favorite Green Day songs.

"We're living in repetition.
Content in the same old shtick again.
Now the routine's turning to contention,
Like a production line going over
and over and over, roller coaster

Now I cannot speak, I lost my voice.
I'm speechless and redundant.
'Cause I love you's not enough
I'm lost for words....

Choreographed and lack of passion
Prototypes of what we were
Went full circle 'til I'm nauseous
Taken for granted now
Now I waste it, faked it, ate it, now I hate it

'Cause I cannot speak, I lost my voice.
I'm speechless and redundant,
'Cause I love you's not enough.
I'm lost for words...."

I smiled down at my guitar. I loved this thing more than life itself. So many beautiful memories about this guitar... I felt the tears threaten to spill just at the mere thought of them, so I quickly blinked those thoughts away. This was happening more and more lately... and I couldn't help but wonder why...

I took another big gulp of my drink, finishing it off. I finished the cigarette and sat back in my chair, realizing I was finally tired. So I put my guitar away, and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I peeked in the bedroom as I was brushing, and noticed that the bed was still neatly made from this morning. I personally never understood the point in making your bed, I mean you're just going to sleep in it again that night so again, what's the point?

Good news was - Brendon was still playing his game so I could go to sleep peacefully. I smiled at this thought and stripped down to my boxers and retreated to my bed, where I was soon met by some much needed sleep...