The hardest thing she'd ever done was let him walk away.
Ok so I've fallen off the edge of the world lately... I've been wanting to write something for a good while but everytime I sit down to write my mind just goes completely blank no matter how many ideas have been rushing around in there beforehand. This is quite a loosely based MCR fic, as in it's all in the POV of my own character but the character of her boyfriend was modelled on Gerard. The way it's written though means that it doesn't go into very much detail about this. Ok... well give it a whirl, tell me what you like, what you don't like, and I'll try and get my arse in gear and get something else up soon. x
After all those years and all that experience of having a Father with an alcohol problem, Lily is still worried. Worried that her boyfriends who had begged her to let him go would be gone for good.
He’d been drunk, upset, and eventually it had gotten too much. He burst into tears, cried on her shoulder and left. Leaving her to worry about him getting home safe or falling into the arms of some other, more sympathetic, girl. The thing that hurt the most was that he wouldn’t even consider her in any of this. Not now and not tomorrow when he woke up with a hang over and the embarrassment of his actions. To him her tears are pointless and selfish. To him her pain isn’t as real as his, although given his state of intoxication it’s likely that hers is the most rational.
Lily was 13 when she realised her Father was different from other people’s. That most people didn’t have to scrimp and save because their Father had spent all the money on alcohol. That not everyone came home at 3 am and passed out. Not when they had a young family to care about.
Nearly five years later her Dad is better. Not cured and he still went out and got pissed but not so often and not quite so excessively. She’d met Gerard and had fallen in love and life was actually worth living. For a while.
She’s seen his behaviour before and she’s familiar with the way it would make her world move beneath her feet, ever so slightly shifting and she’s scared. Scared of what might be, of what her boyfriend might be, of what she doesn’t allow herself to think. All too aware that sometimes you can’t fix what you’ve broken. That once you’ve tainted perfection it’s not perfect anymore, just ordinary.
Almost six months into their relationship and they hadn’t had a single row. There’d been misunderstandings. A heartbreaking half hour where neither of them would say a work and unspoken thoughts would litter the floor at their feet. It was solved though by a hug and a promise that they loved each other and despite the past this time everything would be alright.
She supposed they still hadn’t really argued. It was more a conversation gone wrong because he was drunk and she was stone cold sober. She was trying to talk to him about how she felt and he couldn’t even stand straight or look her in the eye and it made her so angry . Because she’s seen her Mum fall apart so many times and he wasn’t her Dad and she knew that but it still hurt. The likenesses where there and she couldn’t take them away.
It had killed her to let him walk away. With tears staining his face and his eyes unfocussed out of pain and alcohol he had reminded her of herself. She’d wanted to wrap him up in cotton wool and hold him close forever. It didn’t matter if he was already broken. Some people may see that and not bother to try and protect him but she just wanted to salvage the surviving bits of him that were left, the parts of him she had fallen in love with, and just do her best to stop them getting damaged anymore.
She couldn’t save him, it was too late, but she’d do her best, under the circumstances, to stop him falling all the way.
In the car on the way home she sat with people she’d known her entire life feeling so alone that it became a physical ache in her chest. It wasn’t something new, she often felt this way, but it was worse tonight because he should have been there. @He usually gave her the strength to carry on and to wear the smile and laugh and talk and fight. Now she already felt numb because even if she hadn’t lost him forever she didn’t have him tonight. And she needed him, as much as he needed her.
They passed him in the car and she wanted to jump out and look him in the eye and tell him she loved him one more time. She settles instead on a text she knows will probably just piss him off further but she has to tell him because she’s scared of what will happen if she doesn’t.
When she gets home she phones him and when it cuts through straight to answer phone, once and then twice, her heart stops. She knows what thoughts run through her mind when the lights in her eyes go out. Now she’s worried of the thoughts that might be going through his.
She wishes he’d known her before they’d gotten together. Wishes he’d seen how lost she was. How she would stand in a group of friends feeling she was missing something. How she would smile and laugh and joke but the light never reached her eyes.
She wishes he could know that he brought that light back. Wishes he knew that all the time she said she’d given up on love it was just a lie, she hadn’t given up at all, she was just all too aware that everyone had given up on her.
Thinking of him now she can taste him. She wishes she had a jumper of his she could hug that would smell like him. It would probably make her cry but maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone.
When she finally got through to him on the phone she’d offered him a ride home. He’d declined as she knew he would and after a silence in which she wanted to say a million things but said none she reminded him she loved him, said she’d call him in the morning and hung up. Then she’d gone into the bathroom, allowed herself one tear, then put on her mask and went downstairs.
He’d never know how much he meant to her because words couldn’t describe it. All she knew was that when he was with her she felt complete. When he was upset she was worried out of her mind. When he smiled her heart did summersaults and when he talked about the future she couldn’t stop grinning because she was so happy he saw his future to include her.
She texts him one last time to tell him she loves him and to wish him home safe. She’ll call him in the morning and she’ll stop breathing while she waits for him to answer. When he does the first thing she’ll say is ‘hey’ followed by ‘I love you’ because she can’t tell him enough. If he doesn’t answer she’ll keep hitting dial until he does because she loves him.
She’ll sleep tonight, fitfully, because she’s exhausted. She’ll wake up and be blissfully unaware for a few seconds then she’ll remember and worry will kick in again.
Sleep tonight will bring her nightmares and unrest. She’ll see him lying face down in a ditch or watch him walking away from her, unable to call him back.
She knew too that when they met up and everything was back to normal between them she would feel stupid for getting so worked up and worried about him. For acting so out of character, for harassing him with a million phone calls and text messages when all he wanted was to be alone for a while. She knows that she’ll probably end up apologising more than he will, because she’s like that.
The hardest thing she’d ever done was let him walk away.