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It's Not Like It Hurt That Much
It's not like I ever really gave a damn.
Contemplation is one of the few things every single person on this earth has in common. Whether it's deciding which brand of bread to buy, to whether you should knock on the door of a man who you walked out on, without even knowing what you're going to say when the door were to open.
I decided not to knock.
It was harder than you'd think. I wouldn't answer the door for me. I'd answer the door for him though, no doubt. I'd do anything for him. I was never sure if that had a quality of love drawn within, but it didn't matter anymore. I assume he had moved on because he was, and still is charming, funny, witty, and to myself, perfect. It would be nice if he did move on, I wasn't any good for him. I was still stuck in the past though, still held up in the sweet perfection of us. It's a miserable feeling, one that still continued to influence my actions and linger in my thoughts. Part of me wishes he knew I was outside his door, and that the moment he knew, he'd open it, and wrap his arms around me, while I melted into the touch I missed so much.
Too bad reality sucks.
I started to walk away, and I saw a woman walk past me. She knocked on the door I just chickened out on. I assumed she was a girlfriend, hopefully nothing more. It would hurt too much to know he loves someone more than he once loved me. I waited around on a bench hoping to muster up the courage I was currently lacking. Time passed from minutes to hours. Every time I would convince myself to knock, I would chicken out.
Finally, around 8:00pm, the woman walked out and I saw him with her. I had a tinge of hope that he looks around and spots me, and become as overwhelmed as myself. He failed to do so, and he walks back inside. I soon realized it'd be now or never considering I wasn't staying long. I walked up to the door a few moments after it shut, but before I lay a hand on it, the door swung open again.
"Oh hello, sorry, excuse me." I man with short brown hair walked around me carrying a big box. "Hey man, someone's at the door for you." He looked at me briefly, "And you might not want to keep her waiting." I blush slightly at him compliment.
"I'm Rex." He holds out his free hand to shake mine.
"Nice meeting you, Rex. I'm-."
"Annabelle Swan."
I turned my attention to the source of my name being spoken by the voice that made my stomach twist and turn whenever I heard it.
"Tony Stark." I whispered, although even a whisper seemed far too loud.
"Well, I'll let you two get to it, Annabelle, hope to see you around." Rex nods at me, bidding us goodbye.
"Hi." I whispered again, staring at him, afraid the moment I looked away, he'd disappear.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"Well, believe it or not, I came to see you."
"And why would you possibly feel that was necessary?" He spoke quietly with a sense of bitterness.
"Can I come in?"
"Now isn't a good time." He answered, "Goodbye." He began to shut the door, but I kept it open with my foot.
"God dammit, Anthony Stark. What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled once I reopened the door.
"Me? You're the one who left. Remember? Or do I need to give you a damn play by play of what you did?"
"I remember exactly what I did!" I shouted, "I needed you to come after me." I muttered after.
"And do what? Scour Manhattan for five hours straight? Drive around the entire state?" He angrily yelled.
"I needed to know you cared."
"You know I cared, you knew damn well I cared for you. In fact, If I remember correctly, I was the only one who gave a shit in whatever kind of relationship we had."
"I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so so sorry." I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and he just looked away. "Please say something Tony."
"Well, if you really would like me to say something, I'll tell you how I feel. I don't care about you anymore, I feel no remorse, and whatever pity you're giving yourself, get over it. You're nothing but a bitch, and I have no intentions of forgiving you. You knew exactly how I felt about you, and you should have thought about acting on it then, not now."
"I ran because I was scared."
"I don't care why you ran, or why you came back, because if you haven't noticed, I wasn't looking for you."
I decided not to knock.
It was harder than you'd think. I wouldn't answer the door for me. I'd answer the door for him though, no doubt. I'd do anything for him. I was never sure if that had a quality of love drawn within, but it didn't matter anymore. I assume he had moved on because he was, and still is charming, funny, witty, and to myself, perfect. It would be nice if he did move on, I wasn't any good for him. I was still stuck in the past though, still held up in the sweet perfection of us. It's a miserable feeling, one that still continued to influence my actions and linger in my thoughts. Part of me wishes he knew I was outside his door, and that the moment he knew, he'd open it, and wrap his arms around me, while I melted into the touch I missed so much.
Too bad reality sucks.
I started to walk away, and I saw a woman walk past me. She knocked on the door I just chickened out on. I assumed she was a girlfriend, hopefully nothing more. It would hurt too much to know he loves someone more than he once loved me. I waited around on a bench hoping to muster up the courage I was currently lacking. Time passed from minutes to hours. Every time I would convince myself to knock, I would chicken out.
Finally, around 8:00pm, the woman walked out and I saw him with her. I had a tinge of hope that he looks around and spots me, and become as overwhelmed as myself. He failed to do so, and he walks back inside. I soon realized it'd be now or never considering I wasn't staying long. I walked up to the door a few moments after it shut, but before I lay a hand on it, the door swung open again.
"Oh hello, sorry, excuse me." I man with short brown hair walked around me carrying a big box. "Hey man, someone's at the door for you." He looked at me briefly, "And you might not want to keep her waiting." I blush slightly at him compliment.
"I'm Rex." He holds out his free hand to shake mine.
"Nice meeting you, Rex. I'm-."
"Annabelle Swan."
I turned my attention to the source of my name being spoken by the voice that made my stomach twist and turn whenever I heard it.
"Tony Stark." I whispered, although even a whisper seemed far too loud.
"Well, I'll let you two get to it, Annabelle, hope to see you around." Rex nods at me, bidding us goodbye.
"Hi." I whispered again, staring at him, afraid the moment I looked away, he'd disappear.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"Well, believe it or not, I came to see you."
"And why would you possibly feel that was necessary?" He spoke quietly with a sense of bitterness.
"Can I come in?"
"Now isn't a good time." He answered, "Goodbye." He began to shut the door, but I kept it open with my foot.
"God dammit, Anthony Stark. What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled once I reopened the door.
"Me? You're the one who left. Remember? Or do I need to give you a damn play by play of what you did?"
"I remember exactly what I did!" I shouted, "I needed you to come after me." I muttered after.
"And do what? Scour Manhattan for five hours straight? Drive around the entire state?" He angrily yelled.
"I needed to know you cared."
"You know I cared, you knew damn well I cared for you. In fact, If I remember correctly, I was the only one who gave a shit in whatever kind of relationship we had."
"I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so so sorry." I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and he just looked away. "Please say something Tony."
"Well, if you really would like me to say something, I'll tell you how I feel. I don't care about you anymore, I feel no remorse, and whatever pity you're giving yourself, get over it. You're nothing but a bitch, and I have no intentions of forgiving you. You knew exactly how I felt about you, and you should have thought about acting on it then, not now."
"I ran because I was scared."
"I don't care why you ran, or why you came back, because if you haven't noticed, I wasn't looking for you."
♠ ♠ ♠
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