Hurricane // Matty Healy ♣ The 1975

33. text

There are moments, after what seems to be the worst thing in the entire world happens to you, when you will want to scream. 

You'll cry so much that you'll end up throwing up. 

You'll drink so much that you knock yourself out. 

You'll go through weeks of reassuring your friends that you are okay, when you aren't. 

You'll text the person. 

They will rarely reply. 

They'll text, and you'll do what they did. 

You'll call and it will go into voice mail, and you'll say 'Hi!' so happily you momentarily forget who you are. Then you will say 'Nevermind. Sorry.' You'll hang up and cry into your pillow for hours. 

There will be times where you think you will never get better, and let me tell you something, you never really do. There's always a part of you missing, no matter how much fun you're having.

I sighed as I wiped my eyes and closed my laptop softly. 

Matty and I had been apart for a little under a month, I had been sharing Bryony's room until I could get some money and find somewhere else to live seeing as there wasn't any room in the house. 

I could hear everyone talking downstairs and it made me want to be sick. 

I tried to avoid Becca as much as possible because she never stopped talking about Matty, plus, she kind of hated me for sleeping with George. I didn't blame her.

I fell back onto the futon and shut my eyes tightly and thought about Matty. 

He had announced on Twitter an American tour starting just after Christmas, not that I had been checking it or anything. 

I dragged my hands through my hair and opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. 

I needed to get out. 

I clambered up and slipped my shoes onto my feet and put my hair up into a bun. 

I peered at the manky looking reflection in Bryony's full length mirror and winced at my sweat pants, vest top and oversized hoodie of Matty's that I found in my bag after I left. I had barely taken it off since. It didn't smell like him anymore, but it was his size, and he had bought it, and it had touched his skin and that was enough for me. 

I left the room and walked down the stairs slowly, suddenly feeling sick. 

I tried to block out the bubbly laughter coming from the kitchen as I slipped my coat on and grabbed my bag from the hallway. 

I walked out and made my way down the street. 

The weather was beginning to get almost unbearably cold, shops everywhere were filling up with Christmas stock, and I had no idea what I was going to do. 

Sylvia was spending it with her boyfriend, everyone else was going to see their families, and I obviously wasn't spending mine with Matty. 

---

Matty's POV 

I had no idea what I was doing. 

Adam had come over to get me to do something but we had ended up smoking in silence. 

"You should make up with George. You both screwed up. The same with Lizzy." He told me, I groaned, dragging my hands through my hair and looking at him. 

"Yeah. But not right now. I need to think right now."

I leaned back into the sofa and shut my eyes. 

I'd been so fucking stupid. 

If I just sent Kelsey back home the minute she arrived at my flat, everything would be fine, and I'd be sitting there with the guys and Lizzy, everyone would be happy. Everything would be as close to perfect as it would or could ever get. 

 My phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of us, between several half empty bottles of red wine, a couple of records, some books that I couldn't manage to read and my laptop. 

"Aren't you gonna look at that?" Adam asked after a minute of nothing the amounted to another hour of nothing, in the end. 

I sighed. 

I picked up my phone and tried to stop myself from crying when I saw her name. 

'I miss you, Matty. I'm drunk and I'm in a fucking park and there are kids everywhere running around and I feel like I'm at home in this chaotic wonderful place and I miss you.'  I winced as my phone buzzed again. 

'Sorry. Nvm.' 

I sighed quietly. 

I placed my phone back on the table. 

Adam didn't question me.