White Gold *Completed*

I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

"I'm not okay
I'm not okay
I'm not okay
You wear me out

What will it take to show you that it's not the life it seems?
(I'm not okay)
I've told you time and time again you sing the words but don't know what it means
(I'm not okay)
To be a joke and look, another line without a hook
I held you close as we both shook for the last time, take a good hard look!"
~My Chemical Romance, I'm Not Okay

Adam

Maybe it had been a mistake to send Nix flowers from the garden at the cottage in England, but I had done it before thinking twice. I had asked the groundskeeper if Nix was there, and he said no; nobody had been there since we had the first time. It was Nix’s house, and I had made sure she knew that-it was hers to do with as she pleased, so there was really no jurisdiction in me going there without her permission, even if I still had a key, but I just...had to.

It was only a couple hours away by plane or boat, so I hopped on a small puddle-jumper and skipped over to the small town.

It was gray and rainy when I landed, and I pulled my hood up around my head, shoulders hunched and head down. The front garden was semi-flooded and it would obviously be a mess once it dried up. The house was cold and dark, and didn’t get much better when the lights came on. I stood in living-room and gazed around, remembering the brief time we’d spent here...how amazing it was. On the back porch, where I’d given her the promise ring, the light in her eyes and pure joy on her face because she thought I was being sincere.

I shook myself from the memory and moved outside, stunned by how green the grass was, how the raindrops fell from the heavy branches that bowed over the yard. The bushes near the far back corner were blooming with whatever flowers it burdened; white and soft gold.

I smiled sadly and my brain decided to make the mistake for me without any second opinion, and that’s how I ended up shipping out those flowers to Nix.

Jesus. How long was it supposed to take to get over a relationship? Especially one like ours?

Never.

I got low, I’ll admit. Nothing to be proud of, and it sure as hell wasn’t “cool.” Not to mention it was ruining my voice and lungs with every drag, but I found myself smoking  more and more often. A moment of weakness and a light from a stranger led to me picking up a pack the very next afternoon and working my way through it. I was bored, and it was an easy way to make conversation when half the people around me were standing around idly, taking drags and talking easily. Okay, so, peer pressure.

But I felt like with every cigarette I was losing myself more and more. Any time a painful memory of when I use to perform popped up, I would stop and light up. So naturally, this was often.

 I thought that maybe at first Jasper’s pleas would convince me to quit, and for a brief amount of time I did manage to cut back, until one day, a simple text changed things...

“Ew, really? Here?” Jasper wrinkled her nose and covered her mouth with her sleeve.

I shrugged and stowed away the lighter in my pocket. “Sorry not sorry. We are outside though."

“You will be. You’re gonna fuck up that crazy great voice you have, Adam!”

“So?” I said, defensively. “It’s not like I need to in perfect condition any more.” I took a drag and then sent the smoke circling away into the setting sun. Jasper shot out a hand and snagged the cigarette from me in a flash, then crushed it under her boot.