I Hate To Be The One To Bear The Bad News

The hot water from faucet burned my already red cheeks. I cry to much. Looking at myself in the mirror makes me want to vomit. Look at yourself Max. Fucking idiot.

"Don't do this again. Don't do this."

I peered down at the scissors I'd use to slit my wrists the night before, still sitting there, waiting for me to grip them in my tattooed hands and slice what's left of my pride.

"What would Ronnie think, Max." He'd think I was an idiot. He already thinks that though.

Tears started to well up in my green eyes, I couldn't bare to hold them back anymore.

"Fuck you! You're a fucking fuck up who deserves nothing!"

I slammed the back of my head against my bathroom wall and slid down, Sitting lifelessly on the cold tile floor. What am I going to do. Sit here, cut myself, take pills, overdose. What else is there to do. I can't DO anything without him. He's my best friend, he always knew what to do.

He'd never sink this low. Ever.

*BeepBeepBeep*

Wonder who this is, maybe another 'friend' telling me what an awful person I am

After digging around in my pocket, I looked down at the screen of my blackberry to see a message from Robert;

To Max: Feeling any better? Maybe you should drive over to his place. Visit Dee. Do something that will make you feel better. I'm sure she's looking to make some peace? Clear your mind, Max.

Make p-peace? With Delia? I don't think I'm ready to get my balls cut off just yet. She's devastated as it is, I'd be hurting her more then ever if I butt in now.

I sat in that same spot thinking, thinking about Delia. Thinking about Ronnie, and what he would do if he was in my place. He'd take Robert's advice and go see her, I know he would.

--

I made my way to the living room, picked up the phone, and dialed Ronnie's house number.

I hate waiting for people to pick up the phone, it makes me nervous. Its like, what if they don't answer. It feels like rejection without someone even rejecting you.

No I can't do this.

Just as I was about to hang the phone up and never call again, I heard a sweet raspy voice.

"H-Hello?" She sounded awful..

"Delia? You sound awful.. sorry, that was rude, how are you?" She's defiantly going to hate me now. That was rude.

"I'm good.. how are you?" She sounded sad. She sounded lonely.

"Miserable. I miss him so much, D-delia." Pathetic tears leaked from my eyes. I can't do this

"I know that. How do you think I feel?"

Breathe in.

"I'm sorry. Its my fault, I know. I feel more guilty then you could ever fucking imagine. I wanted to apologize, in person, please. And pick up a couple things I kept at your house. If that's alright.... Today's the first day I actually made an effort to talk to anyone."

Breathe out.

"We have something in common after all. I look like the walking dead, but you can come over for a while."

I doubt she looks bad. She's beautiful. When Ronnie and her first went out, I was even jealous. Her personality attracted almost everyone, even straight women. Her dyed candy apple red hair was always swept to the right side. Her and Ronnie looked incredible together, he was so much taller, considering she was only 4'11, but it worked.

"I doubt I look any better. I'll be there in a while, thanks, Dee"

I hung up and went to get ready.

--