The Destruction of an Idiot

One || The Beginning of the End

Vena's Point of View

I've been asked if love is enough. It's not.

You can be indefinitely and perfectly in love, but love does not conquer all, not when other priorities take the spotlight away.

Of course, most of the time, that's no one's fault. It's out of our hands, our control. It's just how life works out.

I wish I could say that love is simple, but with the constant conflict of life and hopeless aftermaths, it's just an unfeasible outcome.

~

Two months later...

He's always on my mind, constantly making me feel anxious. Worry seems to take up most of my thoughts now, stealing away any energy I have.

I haven't heard from James in two months. Two fucking months. My mind immediately goes to the unthinkable and creates a painful pang in the pit of my stomach, so I try my best to think optimistically. Though, after two months, it's certainly starting to falter.

"If you keep up that frown of yours, your makeup is going to crease."

I look at Leah, unamused by her statement.

"Hey, you know I'm right," she raves at her revelation, smirking at me.

I shake my head and return my stare to the TV. The black screen gawks at me. It must be. I don't feel good about this, not even a little bit.

"I don't want to do this," I admit to Leah.

She looks at me, slight disappointment ridden on her expression. "Come on, Vena. It's only one date. It's not like you're promising to spend the rest of your life with him."

I don't even know who 'him' is. Apparently, he's some guy that Grant recently hired at the Café, that's all I know about him. Neither Leah or Grant would tell me the name of the guy, which I find a little odd and annoying.

A knock at the door startles me and starts up my nerves all over again.

"Oh, no, too late now!" Leah announces, jumping up from her seat.

I shake my head, "No, Leah, I'm not going." Leaving the living room, I continue. "Just tell him that I'm sick or something and that I'm sorry. I just can't do this," I tell her, entering the kitchen.

I think I need water or something. I feel wobbly and I'd really prefer not to pass out.

"Hey, you're not Gerald..." Leah's voice is filled with confusion and perhaps fear? I can't be quite sure.

I leave the kitchen in a haste to see who's at the door. I hate heels. I hate heels. I hate heels. I hate heels so, so much.

My eyes widen at the scene that unfolds before me. I freeze, unable to take a deep breath.

"Vena, I'm..." he trails off, but doesn't finish his sentence.

I gulp, my jaw tensing at the sight of him. "You're what?"

"Oh, fuck this shit!" Leah leaves my apartment hurriedly almost like a blur.

James shuts the door behind him. "I'm sorry."

I cross my arms over my chest. "You're sorry?"

He nods.

I balance myself on the wall and kick off my heels. When I return my gaze to him, he watches me carefully. His troubling bright blue eyes beat down on me. I notice him wearing jeans and a leather jacket, probably from that place, that horrible place.