G4L( gangster for life)

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✨Savanna✨

15 days.

15 days is how long I haven't seen him, 15 days is how long I've been away from him. 15 days is how long I went without hearing his voice, I didn't think I could go a single day without speaking to him let alone 15. It feels like 15 years if you ask me, but each second hurts more less than the prior. It hasn't been easy, not even close to it. 15 days ago, I almost killed the man I claimed to have love, 15 days ago I realized that... Everything that I've ever experienced with that man was a lie, and that this thing we all call love isn't what it's cracked up to be. This 'love' caused me a heartbreak, not once but in all, and a brother.

Papa was called by Pharaoh of course, and he got home in minutes time. Hugging me and showing more love than I've ever imagined. Thankfully no one asked questions about him and how we met and what exactly happened in that living room. Melanie was informed on everything and immediately left where ever it is she was at and rushed to my side and stood there as my big sister. Like always. While everyone hugged and cradled me in their arms papa rushed my friends out the door, with worried and concerned expressions on the faces.

During the first day I did expect a phone call, text or even maybe for him to come busting through our door screaming to the top of his lungs, and request to speak to me, causing a scene practically while we sat at that dinning room table awkwardly. No one quite sure what to say to me. When that didn't happen, I lost it. Not crying in the corner, feeling sorry for myself. I mean I lost it. Every second was lived in anticipation of him coming back to grovel for my forgiveness, for me to listen to his side of the story. I almost gave in that day, I almost went searching for him. I almost went back to his house or any other house to find him and demand and explanation. Thankfully, I snapped out of the bullshit and had respect for myself. Especially for the sake of Mariano.

Day five was the worst. Day five was when the realization had set in. Day five was when I finally spoke after five days of near silence, only muttering yes or no to papa, momma, and Melanie during the previous days. The only sounds was strangled sobs and choppy explanation through tears of why my life will be better, easier, without him that even I didn't believe, as fucked up as that sounds. Day five was when I finally looked in the mirror at my dirty and bruised face, my eyes swollen to the point of barely opening. Day five was when I finally broke down and drop down to my knees praying that god took the pain away, in the middle of watching tv with my family. Pharaoh lost it. He came rushing over to me to make sure I was okay, and stared at me like I had four heads when I told him I was okay. He carried me to my room, since my knees were too weak to carry me themselves, and he cursed and had a whole cow outside of my room.

Day five was when I called him, I couldn't help it. I had to hear what he had to say. I told myself that if he answered we would try to work it out and say the hell with Kim, whore ass. Instead I got his voice mail after two rings, proving that he ignored my call.

Day seven is when I slipped and called him again. This time he had the courtesy to let it go to voicemail itself. Day seven was when the realization hit me;I care about him more than he cares for me. Day seven was when I spent the entire day in bed reliving the few time he actually told me how he felt about me. I began to realize that most of our relationship and how I portrayed his feelings for me in my mind, was just that, in my mind. I began to realize that while I was thinking we could do this, we could work forever, he wasn't thinking about me at all.

This is the day that I decided to join the normal teenage life and eat pints of cookies and cream ice cream and listened to every sad song I could find. It seems like every hundred times I would catch a brain freeze and my music was was on twenty-four hours and every time I was weak afterwards. The music helps a lot. To hear about other people's pain reminds me that I'm not the only one eduring this excruciating feeling in my chest.