SAVE ME (𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘯𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘺)

Part 3

"He didn't wanna stay for breakfast?" Soda asks from the couch.

I shake my head. "No, I guess he went back home."

"When did you two meet?"

"Just yesterday." I sigh.

"Yesterday? Man I would have thought y'all was lifelong buddies the way you chased after him like a love sick girl." Soda laughs loudly, causing the rest of the gang to look at me funny.

I glare at him. "If you knew what was going on you'd tell me to run after him." I cross my arms and he quiets down.

"We all got shitty lives, Pony. Nothing new." Dally says.

I shake my head. "Not like his."

They wouldn't understand. I hardly understand myself. Johnny was right.

We had only just met. We don't know each other well enough to be friends, but I can understand that he needed to have the comfort of someone next to him, even if we didn't know each other very well.

I shake my head and walk into the kitchen. Darry is making breakfast for the gang. "Morning Ponyboy."

"Morning Darry." I give him a quick hug, which he seems to appreciate, but is confused as to why I gave it to him. "Thanks for not being a dickhead as soon as we spoke."

"Language," Darry eyes me but then chuckles and ruffles my already messy hair. "Don't let them get to you."

I sit at the table as he hands me my eggs. "Well they do." I grumble and begin eating.

"If they ever bother you too much just let me know. I'll take care if 'em for you." He puncheds the palm of his hand, causing me to laugh.

"Thanks Darry."

He rubs my head and then goes out to tell the gang it's time for breakfast.

I sigh and look at the spot next to me, wishing Johnny was in it.

I am officially in love with this story oh my gosh I can't wait to update again.

Edit: January 2nd, 2018

I wrote this about some of my feelings and don't want to keep it to myself, so I just thought I'd put it here for now...

If there's one thing I've learned from living with the gang, it's that greasers don't cry. It doesn't matter what happens or how hard life hits. If you cry, you're shamed by your friends, and maybe even your family. Learning to bite your tongue and swallow that lump in your throat is a task I've mastered. So, knowing all this, how is it possible that I am still laying in bed tonight, with slow tears dripping down my face?

It's awfully embarrassing, but no ones around to see me. No possibility of anybody making fun of me. Then again, there's no possibility of anybody making me feel better either. Life is a funny thing. It's always throwing you a curveball. Right when you think you're doing good, you fuck up.

I made Johnny mad at me tonight. He doesn't get mad at me often, so I know I messed up. He yelled at me. Awful and horrible things, but you know what? They're all true. Of course they are. Johnny doesn't lie. I found out things about myself, that I already knew, but for some reason, it was still a wake up call I guess. One thing that he said stuck with me the most...

Empathy.

It's such a strange concept to me. It's so preached about in places such as work or school, and yet so many people consider it selfish. Why is it okay to tell somebody you know how they feel?

I guess empathy is more like letting them know they're not alone. When I try to empathize with someone it seems like I don't give a shit. It seems like I don't think whatever they're going through is important. That's not true, and I wish Johnny could see that.

Like I said, he said lots about me tonight. I wanted to tell him all the stuff about him, or tell him about how he had hurt me before too, but there's that stupid empathy. There I would go again flipping things around on me.

He says he loves me, and that he doesn't want to leave me, but how can I be sure? The truths out, and it's nasty. It's mean, and cold, and awful, but it's true. I can't change anything. Maybe the empathy thing though...maybe if I just stop talking all together. It could help...who knows. Johnny's confusing, and hard to talk to, but I love him.

Funny, the night started out by me trying to tell him he was hard to talk to. I should have known better than to be a bitch like that.

Oh well. I'll be fine. I always am. Then again, I've had Johnny to talk with about my problems in the past. That's gone now. Even though he said he didn't mind, I can never talk to him about problems ever again.

Without talking, will I explode? Will it all be bottled up until one day I can't take it and end up crying and screaming and fighting and doing all kinds of stuff I regret? I can't change lots of things about me, but maybe...maybe if I disappear for a while, all them problems I cause could go with me.