Next Time? There Won't Be No Next Time

"Next time? There won't be no next time!" The last words Marshall said. They play over and over in my mind every day. The memories all shattered by those eight words. The eight words that I never forget, the only eight words I remember really. "Shut up Sophie, the more you remind yourself, the more you realise you still need him. Well of course you still need him, he was the best thing that ever happened to you, the best three years of your life. You need to forget him, move on, do it now"

My thoughts are always right but I never listen, I always end up calling him.
"Sophie what the fuck do you want?! It's almost midnight why the hell you calling now?" My heart starts to sink as he shouts at me down the phone.
"I just wanted to hear your voice, you know I still love you, I always ask myself why I ended it, I don't know why, I just know I still love you. Please Marshall. Please."
"Who do you take me for? You broke my heart and now you wanna forget that and start over? Fuck no." He hangs up as a tear makes its way down my cheek. I phone him at least once a week with the same excuse. He never believes me, he just takes me for a fool as if I should be dead, as if I should just leave the world. He thinks nobody needs me. He's right, Marshall is the only reason my happiness exists, I love to hear him rap, I'm known to all of his friends, he's known as Eminem. His music taught me how to live life, but Marshall taught me to love a person, to be myself with them. All I do is fuck it up. I get too clingy, I don't have hobbies, I don't have a job or a family to visit or look after. The only way to get money is to occasionally babysit or volunteer work. That gets me no where, this is why Marshall made me happy, he always stopped me stressing about bills, he calmed me down, he stopped the pain.

As I flick through the photos of us together, I take in the alcohol to reduce the pain, it doesn't quite get rid of it all. I turn to the bread knife sitting on the table. As I line the knife I take a deep breath, take the last bit of pain that I will feel for the rest of the night. The blood flows out along with the pain. The relief sets in. I make it stay with another glass of vodka and coke.

My phone rings but I barely heard it. I can't read the screen so I just answer it. It's Marshall. "Where's the weekly phone call I get on a Friday? It's been two weeks. I thought you were over me but I thought I'd check" I groaned with dizziness. "Your drunk aren't you? Your such a prick, you know what happens when your drunk!" He's right, I'm so aggressive and confused when I'm drunk. I'm the worse!

Next thing I know there's a knock on the door. Hazily I stand myself up and attempt to walk or waddle towards the door. As I open it he bursts through with a really angry look on his face. He doesn't say a word, Marshall just grabs me and carries me upstairs. Tells me to sleep and goes back down stairs.