Sequel: Stitches ›
Bombshell
The End
“Curtis don’t act like that!” I yelled as I chased after him. He stopped in the living room.
“Don’t act like what? Like I don’t want you to ruin your life?” He said, his voice screamed that he was heartbroken. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair.
“If I do end up ruining it, isn’t it my life to ruin?”
He hung his head, “I don’t care what you do. Just don’t include me in it.”
He turned and went into his room.
“He’ll get over it.” Oliver’s said softly from behind me.
Somehow I didn’t believe him.
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As I had expected tour came. They kissed Curtis’ ass until he came back…it never lasted long though. He found something better and moved on.
I was left behind. No one wanted me to go. I suppose not wanting to anger Curtis could have been a reason. But that wasn’t a reason not to call, text, or send a postcard. But that’s what happened.
I found myself holding the phone beside me when I went to sleep. Praying he would call, so I could hear his voice, just one more time before I fell asleep. It never happened.
So I guess we just faded away.
I hated it. Kurt Cobain once said, it’s better to burn out than fade away. It left a sore place, the kind that forms where a scab once was. I suppose that’s how you could describe it. I once was whole, never marked, flawed or anything. Then I got cut, a scab formed then disappeared and left a scar.
A wound I never wanted to be reopened.
“Don’t act like what? Like I don’t want you to ruin your life?” He said, his voice screamed that he was heartbroken. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair.
“If I do end up ruining it, isn’t it my life to ruin?”
He hung his head, “I don’t care what you do. Just don’t include me in it.”
He turned and went into his room.
“He’ll get over it.” Oliver’s said softly from behind me.
Somehow I didn’t believe him.
--------
As I had expected tour came. They kissed Curtis’ ass until he came back…it never lasted long though. He found something better and moved on.
I was left behind. No one wanted me to go. I suppose not wanting to anger Curtis could have been a reason. But that wasn’t a reason not to call, text, or send a postcard. But that’s what happened.
I found myself holding the phone beside me when I went to sleep. Praying he would call, so I could hear his voice, just one more time before I fell asleep. It never happened.
So I guess we just faded away.
I hated it. Kurt Cobain once said, it’s better to burn out than fade away. It left a sore place, the kind that forms where a scab once was. I suppose that’s how you could describe it. I once was whole, never marked, flawed or anything. Then I got cut, a scab formed then disappeared and left a scar.
A wound I never wanted to be reopened.
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Yes I realized the end was shitty.And yes you should know it's late, I'm tired and I wanted to give you guys the sequel. I may re-write this. Anyways, go read the sequel!
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