Loving You Isn't The Right Thing to do

The right thing to do

(This whole story is in Lindsey's POV unless stated otherwise, its a bit all over the place but I wanted to try and capture realism of what a mess people are going through a break up or an up and down relationship)

I woke up, a hangover lurking, I didn't care though, it only made me feel more depressed especially as I squinted my eyes open only to see an empty bed beside me, a foreign room, I couldn't even smell her perfume which made me realise, the dream I had of her and I at that party together, hadn't happened and that made me wish I didn't wake up, why couldn't I just live in my dreams, my dreams where Stevie and I were still together, where she still loved me, did she ever love me though, the way I loved her? 

Of course she did, I remember the days when she made me promise I'd never leave her, now she was leaving me, slipping away from me, no longer giving me the reassurance I needed, she fell out of love with me didn't she, I should have known she didn't love me, but why not, no one else would love her or look after her the way I did, no one else was worthy of her, hell, even I wasn't but the thought of someone else whispering sweet nothings to her made me want to punch the wall, I could feel the burning jealousy coarse through me even by the thought, how would I not kill whoever she moved on with if if she did leave me.

She couldn't leave me, she'd have to see sense, we weren't really broken up, she'd see sense and come back to me, she'd stop this hot and cold rubbish and she'd miss me, but the waiting was killing me, she could be in anyone's arms right now, I didn't even know where she was, fuck, she could be dead someone, no one else knows to look after her, give her water and toast when she's drank too much and all giggly and adorable, no one knows how edgy she gets when she comes down and how sad she gets it, no one will know how to look after her.

I shoot up from the bed, almost tripping over my suitcase, cussing loudly as I give it a kick for being in the way, for being mine, for being in my room and not being Stevie, the pain feels good as it goes through my foot, I deserve that pain, I pushed Stevie away, I'm an idiot, my own insecurity did this, my desperation, I sicken myself, I need her, I need to hear her voice. 

I look over at the clock, its only early, how do I go another day without her, where am I, where is she, I want to scream, I want Stevie back, she can't leave me, she can't leave, why did I do this, how can I turn back time, I never should have pushed away, but I didn't feel good enough sometimes, I should have complimented her more, but she never believed my compliments, I should have given her flowers, I should have taken her out to dinners, I should have tried harder at everything, given her more space, not let my jealously show, I should have been stronger like the man of a girls dreams are supposed to be, mostly, I should have proposed to her before we joined Fleetwood Mac, I shouldn't have put it off thinking I couldn't afford enough of a ring, I shouldn't have let us join Fleetwood Mac, I should have been able to find success myself for her and I.

I was a loser, I let out a growl as I began to kick the suitcase, I hated myself, this was my fault, I drove her away, she was ignoring me, she had made Robin come in the room with her when she had tried to end things with me, why couldn't Robin fuck off, she was working against us, everyone was, everyone knew I wasn't good enough for Stevie, everyone ripped us apart, that was how it felt and I kicked the suitcase harder, I did this all, I fucked up and I wanted to die, what if I lost the love of my life forever, what if she preferred life without me and time didn't bring her back to me, I'd kill whoever she ended up with, I'd kill myself, I wanted to when she ended thing, I was so close to actually doing it, but what kept me from doing it was thinking maybe we still had a chance, we had to, I'd never get over her, I wanted to but no one would ever measure up and I'd spend all my time trying to replace Stevie, get a cheap copy of her and get drunk and high enough to pretend it was her.

I wanted to yell her name as I continued kicking the suitcase, looking down to see it was now broken and my foot felt like it was too, then I thought maybe if I got hurt Stevie would feel bad and come back to me, see how I can't live without her, but I didn't want to be like that, that would be manipulative, I didn't want her sympathy, I wanted her to love me again, respect me enough to not bitch about me to all her friends and her parents, I wanted back what we had and I would give anything for that.

Suddenly though my emotional rage was broken as I heard a knock on the door "We are not paying for or repairing your room if you destroy it!" I heard someone shout from the hallway, it sounded to be one of the many idiots we had following us around for the tour and I couldn't even be bothered trying to figure out who, I didn't care, I was too busy feeling the ache from kicking the suitcase but I also became aware again of where I was, I remembered, we were on tour, well the tour had just finished and this was a hotel, then I thought maybe Stevie was in the same hotel, surely she hadn't left yet, I felt a tiny bit of hope, maybe I'd find her, she'd see me and we'd make up, I had to get ready and go try and find her, I worried I would never see her again otherwise or I'd never be able to make amends and she'd just move on without me, the tour was over the album was made, so she'd never have to see me again and that thought terrified me more than anything ever before, I couldn't live without her, I had to try and find her and fix us.