My Mess. // Phan

Warning Signs

"Get the fuck out, Daniel."

my life flashed before my eyes.

"I said get the hell out of this household, Howell!"

my father slammed his bottle of beer down onto the counter. The bottle, brown, reading 'miller' on the front cracked a bit. But that didn't matter, I was being forced out of my own home. Or at least what I called home... nothing really matters, does it? I won't be here for long anyways.

I just froze in place, in the instances of my head and my head only. You could tell that he was getting more pissed by the moment.

"GET OUT!"

He once again picked up the brown bottle that withheld booze and who knows how many chemicals, and tossed it at me. Amazingly, I dodged the bottle, but nonetheless it hit the wall. Shards of glass burst all over, hitting and entering my skin. Bleeding started immediately after. Before my eyes, a mess of blood, flesh, and pieces of broken glass. My knees weakened at the sight, and intensifying pain coming from the lower half of my body. The pain consisted of stings, aches, and god knows what else. All I knew was pain. Pain wasn't anything new, it was just different this time. Something about my inner pain colliding with that of the pain on the outside just made it somewhat worse. As my legs shook along with the rest of my ever so aching body, I just stared. I stared at the man known as my father... once you're born into a family, you cant get out, and that's what I've come to realize over my seventeen years of living on this damned planet.

This fucked up planet called earth.

I miss her... I miss everything about her, from her smile to the way she spells her name. I miss the way she used to assure me that everything was, and was going to be alright. I'll never let the thought of laying in bed with her, just waiting for night to end and holding her close while we'd tell each other how our days went. Whether the day was the same as the day before, or entirely different, we'd just talk for hours and hours. The hours went by so quickly, as we just held each other. But god, I wish they lasted longer. I wish I could take back the things I've done, I really do. I wish that someone would believe me for once and just take my word.

I didn't want to leave, and I told her that but she didn't believe me either. But my words never really did matter, did they? She has to be happier now; she has everything she could ever want. She has a good looking boyfriend, whose looks are obviously better than mine. A boyfriend who can make her laugh for hours on end. Who can hold her and make her happier than she was with me. He treats her better. Sometimes the thought that someone who once said that they 'loved you' could move on so damn quickly just hurts. It does, and for some reason, in my selfish brain, I wish she'd just stay alone. Deep in my heart I just want her to come back to me because honestly I'll never get over her, and everyone around me knows that. Everyone knows that Phil Lester has a fucking problem, they know to pity me. Pity isn't what I need, what I need is her. I'll always need her. It creates some odd lump in your chest that you just cannot get rid of, no matter what you do, no matter how many stupid pills you take, or how many drinks you make. It'll always be there, treatment doesn't exist for that lump, that odd fucking lump... it won't go away. But sometimes... you have to deal with it, you just do. There's absolutely nothing that you could possibly do about it. The human mind was built to be selfish, and sometimes that selfishness takes over your heart too, as well as your mind. That selfishness makes me believe that with me she'd be happier, or maybe if she was alone, would make me happier. I'm a possessive being, and I, I say she's mine... I want her to be all mine.

I'll just take a walk, maybe if I get up and think, my feelings will go away. Not just these few feelings, all of them. Ironically, I want to be numb again.