Wrong Number

Chapter 34

This thing with Luke and I, whatever it was or wasn't, falls easily - or so I tell myself - at the back of my mind. It wasn't my proudest trait but it was who I was before Luke.

Not a worry wrinkle on my face. Never one for dramatics and romance. If we stopped speaking we stopped speaking. I wasn't going to sit with my thumb up my bum waiting on you to speak to me.

And I was completely fine with it.

It wasn't my best quality but it was me and somehow, I lost that part of me in Luke.

Suddenly I cared what he thought, whether or not we spoke, and got so caught up in emotions and feelings I didn't know who I'd become. I started caring about things I normally didn't and although some would argue it was better, I'd beg to differ.

That side of me wanted to curl up into a ball and never speak to anyone ever again. That side of me ached for Luke more often than not in a way that was boarderline unhealthy.

We got so intertwined in each other it took me weeks to figure out where Luke ended and I began. I had to figure out my life without Luke. As crazy as it sounded that life felt like decades ago.

Truth be told, it took some time but I was finally starting to find myself again. The me pre-drunk text. The me that carried herself with grace and strength. The me that didn't care whether or not a boy called her back.

The me I should have never lost.

If you look up love and what it means you'll get different answers. Technically speaking, the definition of love is an intense feeling of deep affection. But love is a lot of things. Love is blinding, love is warm, love is miserable, love is tricky.

Whatever love is to you, it shouldn't mean losing yourself.

Did I love Luke? Honestly? I still don't know the answer to that.

Luke was warm, soft, rugged, vibrant, funny, bright, and absolutely beautiful inside and out. He was like no one I'd ever come across in my years of living - the feeling I felt with him was like something I'd never felt before.

It was safe and consuming all at the same time. It was like having my lungs crushed while taking a breath of the freshest air imaginable.

If that's what love is then yes, I think I was in love with Luke Hemmings.

However, none of it mattered. Not anymore anyway. Whoever that person was, is long gone.

Days went by and eventually I stopped caring whether or not he called. And it wasn't with malicious intentions, we just sort of drifted. Life didn't have time to stop for us to solve our problems and figure out a solution.

Sad, yes. But unfortunately Luke was in the middle of a busy tour and I was in the middle of trying to finish my second year of college. As tragic as it all may sound it was nice to go back to sleeping at a decent time.

It's something I've pictured myself telling Luke, getting a random call from him and teasing him about it. He'd probably laugh it off and tell me to shut up, probably try to blame me as well.

Then I'd have to hear him talk my ear off about how I was the one keeping him up at crazy hours despite his constant change in timezones being the actual problem.

I'll admit I have my days. Days where the apartments quiet, just me and taco laying around and I'll miss him.

I'll miss our conversations and the warmth of his body next to mine. Some days I'll wake up and half expect to see him sleeping soundly beside me. Maybe on those days I wished I would see him there.

That he'd sneak in the middle of the night and climb into my bed with a heavy arm swung over my torso, worn and tired from touring.

Other times I'll dangle my hand in a sunspot and watch the warm rays hit my fingers, vivid images of the same rays beaming off Luke's pale skin. The way it always made him look so heavenly, like the universe couldn't help but shine a spotlight on the breathtaking boy that was Luke Hemmings.

And of course who could forget those stars that scattered across his back and broad shoulders, a few light ones on his soft cheeks that always turned a sweet shade of pink whenever I mentioned or poked at them.

There's also times when something happens and I immediately want to reach for my phone and text him. But I've found, by far, the nights are the hardest.

It's easy to put on this facade and use this coping mechanism to push away any stomach curling feelings about the situation when there's people and things keeping me busy. But none of that is there at night. At night it's just me, the dog he picked out - and named, and a feeling in my chest that feels tight and absolutely unbearable at times.

I don't let myself feel the loss too often but when I do, I don't just miss him. I miss him with everything in me.

They say these things are supposed to get better with time but personally, for me at least, that just isn't the case.

The longer we're apart the more the aching becomes prominent. Often times I wonder if it's the same for him. If there's a second in his day where he isn't busy with band things that he sits and thinks about me.

Us.

Everything that happened.

I wonder if he reaches for his phone in the morning to text me like he normally did. Or if on nights where his minds racing and he can't seem to find sleep if his fingers itch to hit my contact...to call and talk all night until he feels at ease or one of us falls asleep.

I haven't been able to bring myself to check up on him lately. Not since the first week. After that it just got too hard. I was torn. Wanting to know about his life but not wanting to know about his life without me.

Unfortunately, those two things had become one. His life was now a life without me. He was getting on with shows and interviews and his relationship.

So I told myself I had to do the same. I couldn't spend my days looking him up in a desperate attempt to keep some sort of connection to him. He was moving on and so was I.

The weirdest part of all this was it wasn't a break up. He and I, we were never actually together. There was no relationship. Yet for some odd reason, for the first time in my life, I was feeling everything they show in movies.

I was the girl feeling hollow and wanting to cry and stuff my face with chocolate.

I was Haley whenever she got dumped, stuffing my face with ice cream and being extra moody.

The only difference between this and the movies on the TV is, I don't get my big grand gesture at the end. Luke isn't at my door  panting from running to me. He wasn't outside my window in the rain. There weren't any flowers being sent to my door every day. No announcement or airplane in the sky writing out his love for me.

I don't get a grand gesture. And that's okay with new-old Penelope. She never liked that stuff anyway.

Except old-new Penelope - who goes by the name of P - was still in there somewhere and she, on the other hand, desperately wanted her grand gesture.

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Sorry if this was short, it's definitely a filler/P update. What I think will be the last chapter is done and will be up probably by the end of tomorrow! (Sooner with comments & votes!) Thank you guys for reading my story and waiting for me to updates, I know I was terrible at the last couple of ones. 😅❤️❤️❤️