Stuck On Loving You

Lana–

The guest bedroom seemed to be put in the coldest, darkest spot of the house which was upstairs, where no one ever really went unless the downstairs bathroom was occupied. I guess the isolation was part of what I was feeling at this moment anyway, so it was only fitting for little ol me to be stuck all alone while my sister and brother-in-law were downstairs, having a grand old time. I started to sip on too much wine while in close distance, Ed Sheeran was singing me songs of heartbreak, wanting, and needing. Two candles lit the entire room. Yes, it had actual lights, but I wasn't in the mood to be blinded. The shades that covered the windows blocked out the city lights better than any other, it left the room pitch black at night.

I laid on the memory foam mattress with my back flat to the bed and my legs propped up as one hand balanced a glass of red wine and the other tottered with my phone. I spun it around in my hand, shaking it, just contemplating what my next move was going to be. There had to be a plot in my head about how things were going to go, but I couldn't find one that quite fit this particular situation. Finally, I bit my lip and knew that I had to make that call. Tapping the numbers on the screen and stalling was what the whole plan had come to, but due to being the coward that I truly am, it all fell through and I locked the screen instead.

The ceiling and walls were my only company tonight, but suddenly, an unexpected call came through with the exact numbers that I had dialed. I thought I was hallucinating, or dreaming, who knows. My body decided to go into complete and utter panic mode, wondering why he was calling and if I had called him on accident without knowing it. Maybe he was calling to yell at me for calling him on total accident. Fuck, my mind was never really my greatest friend.

I stared at the phone and didn't answer.

I couldn't answer.

Oh, but I really wanted to answer.

I started to wonder why he couldn't of called after the entire bottle of wine was downed and I had built up enough liquid courage to actually answer the phone. I just sat there, like a little kid waiting for something grand to happen, desperately wishing and praying that the phone would vibrate, telling me that a voicemail was waiting to be listened to.

Silence fell over my body and my heart was just about beating outside of my chest. I started to bite my nails when it actually did vibrate. A sigh of relief passed my lips as I typed in those numbers to unlock the voicemail.

"Hey, uh, Lany, er-Lana, sorry. It's Alex… Gaskarth. Cass had said she saw you earlier, so I just wanted to say hi… Or something, I guess. Whatever… I miss you, Lana… And I want you to know that. It's the truth I just… I don't even know why I'm making this call, honestly. If you don't want to call back, then I understand. Just, I don't know… I'll see you when I see you, okay? I don't know when or where that will be, but that doesn't mean I don't hope it doesn't happen. I'm just happy that you're okay. I love-- oh, wow, I'm done. Goodbye, Lany."

The message ended with an abrupt beep, making me want to fall off the bed and shatter into a million little pieces of nothing. I wanted to all back and profess all of these feelings that I've carried with me for the past year and a half and tell him the reason why I left and apologize and then I want to sit there and hold him. But I, Lana, am a dreamer and runner, and that's all I will ever be.

Lany. No one except Mr. Gaskarth himself called me that. But when he did, it was either to annoy me or when he was on his knees begging me to stay, or just apologizing. This didn't sound like either of those situations; it sounded like he was sincerely missing me and like he was actually hurt over what I did. I didn't mean to leave him feeling like he had been shoved in the dirt, but I guess I'm not that good of a person. The missing feeling absolutely mutual and I wish he knew that.

I sat up quickly to chug what was left of the wine in the clear glass. Afterwards, I quickly thought of what I was going to say to this boy who stole my heart years ago and who was just as insane and stupid as myself.

To: Alex
I'm glad you called.

That wasn't good enough.

Delete. Backspace. Delete.

To: Alex
I miss you.

Blunt, but no.

Delete, backspace, delete.

To: Alex
I was just about to call you before you called me.

I couldn't think of anything better, my nerves were working me over and telling me just to forget about the entire situation until morning. But my mind, this mind of mine, wasn't going to let me forget about this long enough to fall asleep for a few hours. My words were always better left unsaid, but how would he ever know that I was thinking of him if I didn't at least send him this dumb, lousy text message? I couldn't send it, but I knew that it had to be done. I bit my cheek, closed my eyes tight, and finally hit the send button. I wanted to scream and throw this empty glass across the room to somehow punish myself for sending that damned thing.

From: Alex
Why didn't you answer?

Because, Alex, because I'm scared of everything we once were and everything that we still are and still can be. You scare me and I just want you. Please, just let me have you. I'm sorry.

To: Alex
I didn't hear my phone ring.

I had to lie; those words weren't going to come out of my mind as I screamed them to myself, so this was the only way I was going to be able to talk to him. What am I supposed to say? Oh, I wimped out because if I would've answered I would've screamed I love you and miss you so loud that your ear drum would be ruptured and the neighbors would've been able to hear the clear ache in my voice? Yes, that wasn't going to happen.

From: Alex
I meant what I said. If you don't feel the same way, it's fine.

No, Alex, you see, I do feel the same way, but my God, I can't tell you that. I can't tell you because I don't have what it takes.

To: Alex
I'm sorry for running.

Well, I guess that was a clear start, even though I felt like I was going to have a heart attack when I sent it. And my heart raced every single second until he finally replied because I didn't understand what in the hell he was texting me for. I hurt him so much, but he had to understand that I didn't mean to. And that I had to run and that we both had to mature and grow. Maybe a year and a half wasn't long enough time for that, but I hoped it was something.

From: Alex
Can we sit down and talk sometime while you're still in LA?

To: Alex
Cognoscenti Coffee tomorrow?

From: Alex
I'll meet you there at 5.

I was getting myself into something that a child would even stray away from if they knew the entire back story. That was the end of the texts, why would there have been more? We're two grown-up's trying to make sense of something that seemed impossible to understand. Why did we act like those two sophomores that fell in love at all times? Why did we feel the need to fight? Why didn't we see that one day, there wouldn't be a "tomorrow" in our relationship? Why were we so stupid?

The two of us seemed hopeless, but from the inside of our relationship, it was everything everyone dreams about when they think of the ideal image of love. We just loved in the only way that we knew how - differently than people normally loved, that is. The thing about love is that it takes tender nurturing, and though we did that, we didn't get that some pieces were missing. We never fell out of love and we never hated each other, we just felt too many emotions and took it out on each other instead of talking things through.

Maybe tomorrow everything will be resolved, but from the way I'm looking at it on this bed, it looks doomed and hopeless.