Wasting All These Tears

I don’t want you anymore…

Those are the words that replay over and over in my head as I blindly reach for the bottle beside me. I lift the bottle up to my lips and take a swig of its contents, wincing slightly as the harsh liquor burns my throat on its way down. Setting the bottle back down on the floor, I sniffle and stare out in front of me, wondering how I ended up here-- a sniveling mess on my bathroom floor-- and what I could have possibly done differently to make him stay.

Now I’ve never been one of those girls who get so heavily wrapped up in a guy to the point that he becomes my entire world. But with Brian, things were different. There was just something about him that made me fall completely head over heels. Not like it was hard to fall for him in the first place; he’s absolutely gorgeous. And with the way he smiled, the way his brown eyes would shine when he looked at me, the strangely comforting combination of cigarettes and cologne on his skin-- everything about him drew me in. I was intoxicated by his presence and immediately fell madly in love with him. And as I result, I’m left completely shattered when he decides to leave…

Maybe I should have seen this coming. I always knew that Brian was way out of my league to begin with. And no matter how many times he tried to tell me that he wasn’t, I could never really believe him. Perhaps I had a hard time believing him because he’s the incredibly talented Synyster Gates of Avenged Sevenfold and I never thought I could match up to be the girlfriend that he truly deserved. Or maybe I could never believe him because I’d always catch him eying other girls whenever we would go out.

~

When I started dating Brian, I always told myself that I wasn’t going to let myself become the insecure, jealous type. I knew that with his status came a lot of attention, especially of the female persuasion, and I had been determined to let it not bother me. I always told myself that I was his girlfriend, I was the one he came home to at the end of each touring cycle, and I was the one who had his heart. So when I’d see fans get too flirty with him, I’d easily brush it off. It’s not like I could blame them for getting weak in the knees over him, and I thought Brian was being sweet when he’d be a little flirty back. But then I started noticing that it wasn’t just fans he’d be flirty with.

I bit my lip as I watched Brian chat up the girl behind the bar, doing my best to keep jealousy from rearing its ugly head. After a year of dating, I had come to the conclusion that Brian was just a naturally flirtatious guy and probably didn’t even realize what he was doing. It seemed like the most logical explanation for why he was always hitting on girls even when I was only a few feet away.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted me as he placed my drink in front of me, softly pecking my cheek before sitting down across from me.

“Hi,” I replied, giving him the best smile I could muster. I didn’t like this side of me; this side that questioned every sweet word and kiss.

“Sorry that took a while. Turned out she’s a huge fan; and you know that I hate to turn down a fan.”

“Of course,” I said, suddenly feeling like shit for thinking for even a second that he had eyes for anyone else.

“You alright?” he asked.

I looked up and my gaze met his. The corners of my mouth slowly curved upward as I stared into the dark eyes that I had come to love. He loved me, more than I imagined anyone ever could, and I could see that in those beautiful brown eyes of his. I was being silly for questioning his loyalty for a second.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered softly, unable to take the smile off of my face as I continued to gaze at the man who had stolen my heart.

~

A buzzing sound pulls me out of my spiral down memory lane, and I turn my head to see my phone screen lit up, the device slightly shaking as it vibrates against the linoleum floor. I lick my dry, chapped lips and peek at the screen-- part of me hoping that it’s Brian calling to apologize and to tell me that he made a huge mistake. And even though I know that I shouldn’t, I know that I will forgive him in an instant.

I exhale heavily when I see the name on the small screen; it’s not Brian. Closing my eyes, I rest my back against the wall again and reach for the bottle that I know is sitting nearby. Right now, this bottle is my best friend. I just hope that I don’t run out before the day is over.

Another swig of liquor.

Another weighted sigh.

Another weak sniffle.

Another choked sob.

Repeat process until you no longer feel pain.

Repeat the process until you no longer picture his face whenever you close your eyes. Repeat process until you can no longer feel his arms around you. Repeat process until you can’t hear his laugh linger in your ears. Repeat process until you cannot smell his cologne mixed with the scent of the stupid Marlboro Reds he insisted on smoking.

Repeat process until you no longer feel.

That’s how you really get over a breakup. You just drink yourself into oblivion until you can’t remember anything about them. And that is exactly what I intend to do; just me, this bottle of cheap knockoff Jack, and my never-ending loneliness.

A knock at the door startles me and I stare out the bathroom entryway, wondering if I should even bother getting up to answer it. It’s too late for it to be the mail, and I haven’t ordered anything lately to warrant a stop by UPS or FedEx. And last I checked, my friends still think I’m out of town with Brian for our two year anniversary-- I didn’t bother to tell anyone of its abrupt cancellation. It's not exactly easy to tell your friends and family that you caught your boyfriend sleeping with another woman just hours before you were supposed to be going up to the mountains to celebrate two blissful years together.

But what if… What if it’s Brian? What if he thought apologizing over the phone was too impersonal? We did spend two years together. Our relationship meant more than just a quick apology over the phone; it deserved to be mended face-to-face. And that must be exactly what he’s doing, coming in person to admit what an inconsiderate ass he had been.

The knocking continues, and I slowly pull myself up off of the floor. My legs are shaky and my head is spinning. I’m now feeling the full effects of all the booze I decided to down in my pitiful state. I take a wobbly step forward and reach out for the bathroom countertop, steadying myself before moving forward.

Taking a deep breath in, I look up at the mirror to see just how wrecked I am. My mascara is running down my face, my stain faded and smudged, my skin is blotchy and red where my foundation decided to no longer holdup, and my hair resembles a bird’s nest. Maybe I shouldn’t go answer the door right now. Sure, I want to see Brian, but I don’t want him to see me like this… Maybe there’s something I can do really quickly to look more presentable? Maybe I should just wash my face at least so I don’t look so disheveled. The hair I can try to finger comb on my way to the door.

I turn on the sink and let the water run long enough for it to warm up. Pushing back the stray tendrils of hair behind my ears, I cup my hands under the running tap and wet my face. I blindly reach for my face wash and do a quick pump into my palm before rubbing my hands together and scrubbing away the makeup residue on my skin. After rinsing off the soap, I nearly stumble over my own feet on my way to dry my face off, having stupidly forgotten to leave a hand towel on the small rack near the sink.

“Whoa, are you okay?” a voice asks as I begin to pat my face dry.

I stiffen, suddenly feeling much more sober at the sound of the voice. I slowly straighten my back and turn to face the person who has somehow managed their way into my home. “How’d you manage to get in here?” I ask, my eyes locking onto his blue gaze.

“I remembered where you kept your spare,” he replies simply, holding up the small key in his hand for me to see.

“Right, I told you where that was…”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Why are you here?”

“Well, you didn’t answer when I called and you haven’t been answering texts, either… I was worried about you,” he answers; his eyes fall to the floor and he bites his lip. “And it looks like I had reason to be.”

“No, that’s… That’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s nothing.”

“Well, it is, okay?” I snap, annoyed. “Anyway, why were you worried? I thought you knew I’m supposed to be out of town with Brian.”

“I did, which is why I thought it was really weird when I saw him walking around with some leggy brunette who wasn’t you.”

I swallow hard and bite my lip as hot tears threaten to spill from my eyes. “So he’s with her, then?” I ask softly.

“I guess… Who is she?”

“That’s actually a really good question.” I laugh bitterly and shake my head as I lean against the wall, feeling a little lightheaded. “I don’t really know much other than she’s the girl that Brian’s been sleeping with behind my back for…” I bite my lip, remembering the incident at the bar with the bartender Brian had said was just a fan. Just a fan, my ass. “Maybe a year? I don’t really know…”

“The girl he’s been what?!” he exclaims, his eyes wide in surprise.

I shake my head and the tears finally escape from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks. “Please, don’t make me say it again. It hurt enough the first time.”

Before I even have time to process it, I feel his arms wrap around me, pulling me in tightly as he gently rubs my back. “It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, stroking my hair as I press my face into his chest and sob. “You’re going to be okay.”

“How?” I ask, looking up to meet his eyes again. ‘How am I going to be okay? Brian cheated on me! He left me! He said he didn’t want me anymore! How am I going to be okay after that?”

He lifts a hand up to my face and wipes away the tears on my cheek. “Because you don’t need him to be okay. You were fine long before you met Brian, and you’re going to be fine without him.”

“Two years… He was my entire world for two years…”

“I know he was…” he murmurs. “And I know it hurts right now and you want to do nothing but drink away all the pain, which it looks like you’ve had a bit of a start on,” he comments softly, and I can’t help but chuckle weakly. “But you will be okay. And you’re going to realize that Brian wasn’t worth your tears.”

“I doubt that…”

He smiles and presses his lips to my forehead. “I don’t.”

~

I shove my hands into my pockets and I walk down the pier, grimacing slightly as the breeze blows my hair into my face. I raise a hand up to my face and brush the offending strands away as I look out at the ocean. Exhaling heavily, I rest my arms against the pier’s railing and listen to the squawking of the seagulls as they fly overhead.

I bite my lip, remembering the last time I was here, which happened to be one of the last times I was with Brian. We were walking along the pier and had stopped to look out at the ocean just as the sun was beginning to set. He had wrapped his arms around me and whispered how he couldn’t wait to spend more evenings like that with me, walking around the beach and watching the sun set. If only I had known I probably wasn’t the only girl he had said that to…

A familiar laugh pulls me out of my thoughts and I look down in the direction that I hear it. And there he is, Brian Haner, Jr. walking along the beach with the same girl I had seen him flirt with a year ago at the bar-- the same girl I walked in on riding him in my old bed just three weeks ago. I swallow hard as I watch them out of the corner of my eye; they’re walking in my direction, laughing without a care in the world.

As they get closer, I try to turn away from them, but my eyes catch his for a brief moment. His lazy smile quickly disappears, his chuckle strained, and I know for sure that he saw me. I quickly pull my gaze away from him and wait for them to pass, keeping my eyes trained on the waves ahead of me. A hand rests on my shoulder, and I tense up before cautiously turning my head. I let out a sigh of relief when my eyes meet a familiar pair of blue orbs.

“You scared me, you know,” I inform him with an anxious chuckle.

“Sorry about that,” he says, smiling back at me. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so jumpy. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply, nodding slightly as I look back out at the water. “I was just caught up in the waves; that’s all.”

He nods and rests his arms on the railing beside me. “I swear to God, if one of these birds shit on me…”

I can’t help but laugh at the comment, glad to know that I’m not the only one silently praying that the gulls don’t decide that I look like a nice target to crap on. I shake my head before gently resting it against his arm. I notice his eyes flicker down to me and he moves his arm slightly, pulling me in to his side. I gladly accept the warmth his embrace as to offer against the breeze’s slight chill and sigh as I watch a couple of kids run along the shoreline.

Again, a familiar laugh rings in my ears, and I release a tense breath, this time choosing to ignore him. I really don’t know if I can handle looking at him with her again when it’s hard enough just to hear that laugh that I used to adore so much.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

I bite my lip, realizing that he’s noticed Brian’s presence. I brave one last look at my ex-boyfriend before I answer. I watch him as he over-exaggeratedly laughs, probably at something his new girlfriend said, and it hits me-- I’m not sad. I don’t feel like I’m going to break apart at the seams and burst into tears.

Turning away from Brian, I look back up into those comforting blue eyes and smile. “I’m fine,” I tell him.

He raises a brow at me, his eyes darting briefly over to Brian. “Are you sure? Because we can go somewhere else. Save ourselves from the possibility of getting shit on.”

“I’m sure,” I chuckle. “Though, if you want to go somewhere away from these birds, I surely wouldn’t mind.”

“Let’s go get some frozen yogurt. I mean, what kind of best friend outing would this be if we didn’t get some frozen yogurt?” he says, and I nod in agreement as we begin to walk back towards his car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks as we walk past Brian, whose eyes I can feel watching us as we walk by.

“I’m sure,” I reply, meeting his eyes once more. “You were right, you know.”

“I was?” he queries, looking surprised.

“Yeah, you were. I’m fine without him. And now I realize that… that he wasn’t worth with it.”

“Worth what?”

“He wasn’t worth all that heartache and sorrow; wasn’t worth beating myself up over not being good enough and drinking myself into oblivion.” Another smile finds its way to my lips as I look forward. I feel lighter, as if a burden has been lifted off of my shoulders. “And now, finally, I’m through wasting all those tears.”