FicWad

The hallway is still echoing from the slam of the front door, and me, well I just stand here… Staring at the door that seems to be vibrating still. Feeling utterly numb.

He reacted pretty much how I thought he would when I told him: at first he just looked at me in disbelief, and then he stood up from the couch and started pacing the floor.

"W-why? Why would you do that? H-how could you do that to me?" He had sputtered, all the while gesturing madly. "To us?" With the last words he looked at me, as I was still sitting on the couch, with clear confusion in his gaze.

He kept clenching and un-clenching his fists as he continuously paced back and forth through our living room. He stopped sudden, and looked at me furiously. He walked towards me fast as he had raised his right hand in the air. I'd had time to flinch and close my eyes, waiting for the obvious slap… but it never came.

I heard him exhale deeply, and when I opened my eyes he had put his arm down. In his eyes were then only hurt and sadness as he stared at me intensely. He turned on his heel, went to the closet, grabbed a duffle bag, and walked into our bedroom. I had slowly followed him, watched him as I leaned on the door frame. He'd begun to riffle through his dresser, stuffing random clothes down the bag. He looked up at me, with tears now glistening in his eyes. Pushing past me, using a bit more force than necessary, he went to the bathroom. I heard him scrambling through the cabinets while he was swearing; a minute later he hurried out, zipping up the bag with a demonstrative finality.

He made it to the hallway, and once again I followed him. He grabbed his jacket, took his wallet, cell phone, and keys off the counter, and put them in his jeans. He bored his eyes into me, his entire face colored with intense hurt, and we just stood silent for a minute, staring…

"So that's it, is it? You're not gonna say anything else?" He asked in a low imploring voice. My eyes cowardly shifted to the left, unable to face him any longer.

"You're just gonna let me walk out that door, and outta your life, without another word?"

I looked up at him again, and I couldn't for the life of me force my lips to move. What the hell was I going to say anyway? That I was sorry…? I didn't even know that I was. That I wanted him to stay? I didn't even know if I did. And besides, no amount of talking could erase what I had done, so what was the point…?

His eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at me.

"Well, FUCK YOU THEN! IT'S OVER!!!"

And before I'd had time to blink, the door slammed shut behind him.

Now in a daze, I walk into the living room, and just crumple in a heap on the couch. It just takes a couple of seconds before the realization of what just happened is ragging through my body. I start to shake and cry uncontrollably, all the while hugging my knees to my body in a fetal position.

I don't know how long I've laid here in all my loathing self-pity, but I'm starting to think that I really need to talk to Patrick. The last time we talked to each other was after we just had sex, and both of us had cheated on our partners. It was about a month ago, and like we decided that night, we hadn't talked about it since. Actually, we hadn't talked at all.

After the sex that fateful night, we'd just laid there not really talking. I had started to get cold, so I got up to put my clothes back on. Patrick had done the same, both of us in awkward silence. We had already said everything, there wasn't anything more to say.

After we were dressed we just looked at each other. Patrick walked towards me slowly, and put his arms around me. I felt the tears burn behind my closed eyelids, but I really didn't want him to see that. 

The worst part was that I didn't know why I was about to cry; the fact that I had just cheated on my awesome guy who really didn't deserve something like that; or the fact that the night with Patrick had been absolutely amazing. HE was amazing, and he probably meant more to me already than I was willing to admit.

It was a really long tender hug. When he released me, he looked at me with soft eyes and just then, one of my damn tears fell. Patrick wiped it away slowly with his thumb and smiled a little sadly. He whispered my name and:

"I'm gonna miss you…"

"Yeah, I'll miss you too…" I confessed quietly.

"But this is for the best…" Patrick added, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than me that it was the truth.

Patrick took my face in his hands, looked at me with those incredible blue-greenish eyes one last time, and leaned forward and kissed my left temple gently. I closed my eyes for a second before I turned swiftly away. I grabbed my jacket and bag, and without another look, I walked out the door. Silent tears now freely streaming down my face, as I left Patrick behind.

After that day I hadn't been able to stop thinking about Patrick. The feel of his lips on mine, the feel of his hands touching, caressing my body, the feel of him inside me, completely… Patrick's eyes on me hungrily, tenderly, humorously, longingly, sadly…

We hadn't exchanged any phone numbers or e-mail addresses. So I had no way of contacting him, besides Twitter. Still, I hadn't written to him on Twitter this whole month.

I didn't know what the hell to say… It's not exactly easy writing to someone after a thing like that. Especially considering that my Tweets to him was fair game, and everybody could see them.
"I can't stop thinking about you…" Not good!
"I loved our night together…" Uhm, NOPE!
"I think I might be… falling in love with you…" Oh, HELL NO!

Crap! Was I? Was I falling in love with Patrick? Was that the real reason I let my amazing guy, the sort of guy I've been dreaming of ending up with basically since I can remember, walk right out the door without even attempting to stop him? I was falling in love with someone else… I was falling in love with Patrick…? I was falling in love with Patrick…! Ah, shit, I don't know… I need to talk to him!

With tears still running down my face, a bit more quietly now, I grab my cell phone, and open my Twitter app.

"@PatrickStump Patrick, I desperately need to talk to you. Would you please send me a DM? Thank you."

Yes, that will do. I press send. I know I don't have to write my name or any more explanation, since my Twitter picture actually looks like me, and I doubt he has forgotten me completely.

Putting the phone down, I get up and go to the bathroom to wash my face. The cabinets are still open, and stuff's been tossed around. As I splash cold water on my face I try to deduce what he's taken. His toothbrush, razor and deodorant is missing. But he's left his shampoo, cologne and some other stuff. Well, he's got a key, I'm not going to stop him if he comes back. I still don't know what to say to him though…

When I had told him, I didn't beat around the bush, or try to lie any longer. I had made up my mind to tell him, because he was starting to notice my frequently vacant expression, and lack of affection towards him. I just sat him down on the couch and admitted:

"I need to tell you something…" I swallowed, "when I met Patrick Stump last month him and I slept together." I revealed it all very quickly and continued just as fast, meaning to get everything out: "And while I'm being honest, I can't say that it didn't mean anything, 'cause I just don't know…"

Dammit! Thinking back to his hurt disbelieving face makes me cry again. He so didn't deserve to have someone cheat on him. He is a genuinely great guy. I love him! I used to love him… Oh, I don't know…

I see my disheveled appearance in the bathroom mirror, and crinch. Oh, that's attractive… I dry my face on a towel, and reach for a tissue to blow my puffy nose. I take the box of tissues with me as I leave the bathroom. I know I'm in no way near done crying yet.

I go to the kitchen to make myself some tea. I'm trying to keep my hands and head occupied, but I can't help wondering if Patrick will even see my Tweet. I grab an apple and slice it up on a plate, secretly wishing it was mounds of chocolate instead. I take the plate, while I put the box of tissues under my arm and pick up the tea cup with my free hand.

As I walk back into the living room I contemplate confessing everything to my best friend. I will if Patrick doesn't answer, I decide. I'll need someone to talk to.

I put the things on the table as I sit back down on the squishy couch. I glance at the cell phone, it seems to be mocking me. It's only been about half an hour since I sent the message, but I know this is the time Patrick's usually logged in. Even if he's not Tweeting himself he answers fans through Direct Messages. He is so great that way.

Unable to resist temptation I press my little Twitter icon. Unbelievingly Patrick has actually sent me a DM, it was sent only 2 minutes after I sent my Tweet.

It contains only two short words of sorts: a cell phone number and an e-mail address.

Shit! My mind can't quite comprehend… well, that's good… and unexpected… shit, I wasn't prepared for that. I thought that maybe a follow-back on Twitter. That way I could also send private Direct Messages to him of 140 characters. But this is so much bigger, and better!

Okay, now what? I really don't think I've got the confidence, or balls, to call Patrick just now… So, e-mail it is.

My lap top is conveniently laying on the coffee table. I pick it up, and log into my e-mail. After sifting through, and deleting, some spam I open a new mail. I glance at my cell, and copy down Patrick's address. Here goes nothing:

"Patrick,……"

Yeah, and then I just stare at the screen… I actually have no fucking idea what to write, and that's the weirdest thing since I just a while ago was so desperate to talk to him. Here's my chance, and I freeze the fuck up.

I drink some tea and bite into a piece of apple, then I lean back to blankly stare at the ceiling for a moment to contemplate. Well, since my theme of the day seems to be brutal honesty, I might as well run with that. I put my fingers to the keys.

"Patrick,
first off: I'm sorry I haven't Tweeted you for so long. I just couldn't. I'm aware it's not like we said we'd never ever speak again, but I just didn't know what to say… Second: thank you for giving me your e-mail and phone number. That was beyond called for, and I really appreciate it, because I do need to talk to you. Third: I'm gonna have to beg of your forgiveness in advance, because I'm gonna break our deal, and talk about the thing we said we wouldn't talk about.

I truly hope that you have been well this past month. Myself, I've had some trouble getting back to reality. I'm finding my thoughts absolutely consumed by you, and our time together.

Today I couldn't take it anymore, and I came clean to my guy. Or ex-guy I should say. I told him you and I slept together. Subsequently he packed a bag straight away and left me. That part haven't quite sunken in yet, I actually don't really know how I feel about it. I guess I don't love him as much as I used to, or I wouldn't have just watched him leave without trying to stop him, right…?

Patrick, I'm just really, really confused. About my feelings for him. About my feelings for you.

I'm sorry to drop all this on you like a bomb, I know it's not fair. You're probably back to status quo, and perfectly happy with your girlfriend. But please show some mercy on me, and don't scold me too badly for this mail. If you think I am totally out of line, and you never want to hear from me again, just tell me and I promise you never will.

I don't know what I expect from sending this, I just had to get my feelings out in the open I think, see them in print. The feelings that are about to devour me. I've missed you! I miss you more than I thought possible…"

I end the letter with "Yours truly", and my name and cell phone number. I read it through once, so there are no embarrassing grammatical errors, and press send before I lose my nerve totally.

I slap the lap top shut and reach for the TV remote. I flip through the channels without really watching, stopping at a channel with some romantic comedy of some kind. I watch for a while, and there we go, the water works come crashing over me again. And I can't even seem to look away or turn the TV off. No, it's like a train wreck, must look. And torture myself. You did this to yourself, you miserable bitch. You deserve to feel like shit!

I watch the movie until it ends, sickeningly sweet of course. God, I feel sick to my stomach. It's still kind of early but I decide to go to bed anyway, head pounding after too many tears.

I toss and turn and keep crying once I get in bed. I think I drift off eventually because all of a sudden I'm woken by a sound. Huh, what? Oh, my cell phone. I fumble for it on my nightstand, and glance at the display. It's a number I'm not immediately recognizing, so I answer with my name.

"Hi, it's Patrick," a very familiar voice at the other end say.

I sit up straight with the speed of a flying bullet.

"Uh, hi…" My voice is a bit rough and surprised. I hold a hand to my forehead, because I got a head rush sitting up so fast.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you asleep?" he asks.

"Umm, sort of, I guess…" I shake my head to clear it, and drink some stale water from the ever-present glass on my nightstand.

"I'm sorry," Patrick says again, "I can call you back tomorrow… or whenever…"

"No! I mean… it's alright. It's only," I glance at the red numbers on my alarm-clock, "9:13, how could you possibly foresee that I'd be in bed already? It's okay, Patrick."

Oh God, it feels so good to say his name again, and to hear his voice. My stomach is in knots, I've missed that voice so much. I've missed him!

"Oh, okay," then there's silence for a bit, "thanks for your e-mail."

Shit! In my newly awaken state of confusion I'd totally forgot about that. I feel myself blushing, even if he can't see me.

"Sure…" then I'm silent too.

"I miss you too…" he says softly.

I feel my heart contract.

"You do?" I ask like an insecure little girl.

"Yes," I can hear that he's smiling, "very much."

"Oh…" I say stupidly.

"I'm sorry to hear your relationship is over…" he says with sympathy.

"Yeah, well maybe it's for the best…" I say defeatedly.

"Yeah," he replies, "that's what I thought too. That's why I broke up with my girlfriend."

"What?" I exclaim.

"Yeeh, a couple of weeks ago… I knew I had hurt her so much, and I didn't wanna keep hurting her so I ended it. Besides, I didn't love her anymore, well at least not in the same way I used to, you know… Or as much."

I'm totally flabbergasted! He broke up with his girlfriend! They'd been together a really long time.

"Well, in that case; I'm sorry too," I declare, and I mean it. I don't want Patrick to be upset or hurt.

"It's okay, I'm feeling alright about it. It was the right thing to do, you know. Just sad that I hurt her…" he says quietly.

"Yes, I feel the same way. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt…" I respond sadly.

"But it's wrong to be with one person if you have feelings for someone else," he adds, and I know he's referring to my mail, and I feel my face go red again. "Like I do…" Patrick continues slowly.

HE WHAT? Holy crap! Did he just confess to having feelings for me too?

Patrick says my name softly, and I feel a shiver down my back. Damn, nobody says my name quite like him.

"I need to see you. I'm confused too, and I don't think we can clear this up being in different places, do you? Can you come visit me in Chicago?" he sounds pleading. "I'll pay for your plane ticket, so that's not a problem," he ends hurriedly, like that's an issue.

My whole mind screams YES! But I'm trying to be cool:

"Of course I'll come, if you want me to…" I say carefully.

"I really do," Patrick insists sweetly.

"Okay, I'll call my employer first thing in the morning to see if I can take some time off, and then I'll check the flights to Chicago," I respond promptly.

"Awesome!" I can hear that he's grinning, "I can't wait to see you…"

"I'm really looking forward to see you too," I say happily, and add carefully: "You have no idea how much…"

Patrick gives a tiny laugh:

"As a matter of fact, I think I do… Call me tomorrow?" he sounds really happy.

"Sure! Bye Patrick!"

"Bye! Hope you sleep well…" and he ends the conversation by sweetly saying my name once more.

As I put my phone down I just can't believe it's true. Patrick misses me too and he is also confused. I thought I was alone in that. It feels kind of good that I'm not, even if we are confused…

Then the guilt comes. I shouldn't be this happy on the same day as my relationship ended. But I can't help it. I really, really just want to be in Patrick's vicinity again. Hopefully I will be soon. If my boss won't give me time off I'll fucking quit. I couldn't care less. I know my priorities, and work isn't one of them right now.