Love Ridden

Number Two yelled at me for a long time. Though it felt like forever, but it probably wasn't more than a few minutes. She told me I was a rude, inconsiderate douche bag. Oh, and an asshole. She said that for weeks she’s listened to me talk about my, quote unquote, best friend, telling me she’s never been so sick of hearing someone’s name in her life. Then she said that if I was so in love with Madelyn why didn’t I just grow some damn balls and tell her already instead stringing other girls along for my own amusement.

I sat there and took it. I had to. I mean, I’m the one that did this to her. I’m the one that tried to use her like a distraction. What else could I do but let her yell at me?

That was several days ago. Her words are still pretty fresh in my mind. Mainly the part about how I should have told Madelyn how I felt. I was stupid for never saying anything. The feeling that I’ll never really get the chance has been weighing me down ever since.

I haven’t really left the house. I’ve just sat here, mindlessly watching the same news programs and the same sports channels. I think I’ve been wearing the same clothes for almost a week now. Well, the same sweatpants at least. They’re pretty filthy at this point. I honestly can’t even remember the last time I took a shower.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m guessing I’m just sad. All I know is that the one person I want to talk to about all of this, the one person who I know would be able to help me, she is the one person I know won’t answer the phone if I call.

This must be what it feels like to be lost. I have no idea what I’m doing and that’s not like me. I’ve never felt so alone in my life or so unprepared.

I’m used to going and getting what I want. I’m used to getting my way and I’m used to people taking care of me. I was used to Madelyn taking care of me, but I know that’s over now. Based on her complete disappearance from my life, I know that she doesn’t want me around.

I look over at my phone and it hits me that today is Friday.

It’s our pub night.

But really, what’s the point? I don’t want to go and sit and fake my way through tonight. I don’t even want to move.

I just want to sit here and try to ignore the fact that I’m an idiot who spent too much time pining after the girl I wanted instead of actually making her mine.

Notes