Page 91 of Poems He Wrote

My heart is hammering in my chest as I take the keys out of the lock and step out of the apartment. The door closes behind me, and I lock it from the outside. I know she keeps her spare key in a cereal box hidden under her bed and I’ll put this one in her locker. I couldn’t just leave with her door unlocked, she wouldn’t be safe like that.

I lean my forehead on the cold wood and press my palms into it. My breath leaves a foggy, wet spot on it.

“I…I’m sorry,” I whisper before running down the stairs.

I might be a coward for running but I can’t face her. I can’t say goodbye, because she would find a way to break me and make me stay. And that’s something I can’t let her do. I just can’t.

The rain keeps falling, hammering into me as I drive through the night. Not another person in sight. The streets are dark and lonely, but not as much as me.

34

Back to Black - Amy Winehouse

Ronan

I feel my whole world crumble the second I realize he isn't there anymore. I run through my apartment, calling for him, but only silence answers my screams.

He left.

I would’ve left too.

I try calling, but my calls don’t go through and none of my texts are being delivered. I have pushed him away. My lies and hiding have pushed him away. I knew it was coming, but I was hoping it would be on my terms. I hoped I could explain.

I didn’t even try to. I should’ve been more persistent and made him listen. It’s too late now. I am tempted to go over to his place, but this is a boundary he set. I can’t cross it, I can’t break his trust even more.

I can’t stop my sobs, no matter how hard I try. Every breath I take makes it even worse. I regret not telling him that very first night, or any other night I sat in my car in front of his store, crying into my hands. It would’ve been better.

Sadness washes over me, making it hard for me to sort through all my thoughts. I am nothing more than a disappointment. Christine was right. She always is. She is my mother, after all, she knows me best. She raised me to be this. A liar, a fraud. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as far as I can see.

“Please…please…please…” I beg, trying to call him one more time, but the line is just one long, depressing beep.

I broke my own heart into a million pieces. I deserve it, but why does it hurt so much? Why does it feel like every organ is being ripped out of my body at once?

‘I love you’flashes behind my closed eyes,‘I love you, Rory.’

I smash my fist into my pillow, another sob raking through me. The name I used that night. I should have known. I don’t blame him for leaving. I truly don’t, I just wish he looked me in the eye before he locked me in. That would’ve been my undoing, but I would take it, if it meant for him to look at me just one more time.

I would take it all. The anger, the rage. The disgust on his face as he looks at me. The room around me spins as I think about the tone of his voice and how lost he looked the moment Corey told him. Like his whole world flipped on its axis, and all I can think about is that it should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one to tell him everything.

I cry myself to sleep as the first rays of sun hit my windows, hoping Noah isn’t doing the same.

***

Sleep-eat-purge-repeat. That’s what my life has been like for the past few days. My phone keeps ringing non-stop, but it’s always Corey. I am not angry at him for telling Noah what has happened. That was completely my fault, but I can’t talk to him yet. I am a mess.

I religiously call Noah twice a day, every morning and every night, hoping that he’ll answer either worn down from tiredness or confused by sleep. It never works. At least the calls go through, and he can see that I care.

Shame is the main dish in my feast. It’s burning in the depths of my chest. It makes me feel so small and insignificant. I am ashamed for losing this one good thing in my life that I was supposed to protect. I am ashamed for causing him pain, for lying to him for so long. For knowing he was looking for me and never once giving him at least a clue of where to find me. I want to run and hide. I want to disappear.

The goddamn phone rings again and I get up from the bathroom floor, flushing the toilet. I rush to it, hoping it’s Noah, but deep down, in my gut, I know it won’t be.

Jensen’s name lights up my screen as worry takes hold of my whole being.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Ronan. Sorry to bother you, but I had to call,” Jensen says, his voice deep and harsh, and from it alone I know that he knows how much I fucked up. He was the one rooting for us from the start.

“Is he okay?” I cry into the speaker, tears rolling down my cheeks.

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