❝𝙎𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩.❞ I finally snap, this whole time I thought it was in my head but I was wrong. Everyone was right about him.
"You're not listening to me Brylan." He begs but I don't care for it. I d...
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FOUR MONTHS EARLIER past
It has been a whole month since Brylan left. A whole month. At this rate I'm convinced that my love has just converted to obsession. Why is everyone else getting over their past relationships but me? Is there some sort of magic juice I'm not being told about? Fucking hell. Maybe it takes time, if I where to compare my current state to how I was in the beginning I'm almost entirely different. I haven't drank anything once. I also haven't gone to a party and my apartment is clean. A part of me should be pleased but none of it was my call.
Benji makes sure I don't drink or party and he got someone to clean my whole apartment back to front. Telling me to keep it that way afterwards, if it revert to it's depressive state then he's going to get stricter on me. It's safe to say that threat has stopped me from leaving things around. He's already like an overbearing parent and I don't need him to get worse.
It's okay. I've been trying and I'm glad he's trying to help but I have an assignment due in a week and I haven't started. My mind is completely blank and I haven't had an active imagination in weeks. I don't know what happened to me. Shifting on my desk chair I crack my knuckles simply because I want to. I think that's the only desire I've felt in days.
If I didn't want to fail this class I'd still be in bed or at the gym with my music, thinking about absolutely nothing. I'm not even upset anymore. Sure the thought of her fucking kills me but it doesn't upset me. I feel as if I deserve it in a way. If you're going to be a shit boyfriend then don't feel bad when your girlfriend is fed up with it.
Actually, nevermind. I lied. I do get fucking upset. I get angry at myself because fuck. If I just spoke to her I wouldn't be sitting here and staring at the blank document on my laptop. Id be typing down ideas that Brylan would be giving me on call. After which we'd talk about our days. That was our routine. Now there is no routine.
'Fuck this.' Slamming my laptop shut I step out of my room and into the living room.
Pacing back and forth I need adrenaline or something exciting so my blood is pumping. That way I'd be distracted. This is where I sit on the couch and scroll through different social media profiles until I find a college party to crash. Except I can't do that because Benji will know and I'd be fucked. How will he know? I don't know. He just will.
I could invite a girl over? No. That would mean having sex on my bed. Absolutely not. I'll do it anywhere else, I can't do my own bed. It's always been an ick for me. I think the only time I allowed it was—no. This isn't about her. Maybe I could plan to go to another girls place? Will a girl allow me over at this time? Flipping my watch before biting my lip. It's ten pm. Fuck. That's late but I don't care, I can find someone in ten minutes flat who would jump on the idea of screwing a devision one UCLA player.
Groaning I can't help but feel pathetic. I'm really considering using my status to get in a girls pants just because of my fucking ex? Yikes. I'd advanced from emptiness to being a fucking sleeze. Do better Damon. Actually, maybe I can do better.
