You lie in bed as you cry listening to a sad Pop playlist on Spotify. You knew it wasn't a healthy coping mechanism, but you felt so useless and broken that you felt it couldn't get any worse. Your high school sweetheart had ended it with you two days ago after you two dated for two and a half years. His reasoning of the end of the relationship was just as bad as living after a tragic incident that left you paralyzed from the neck down. You were a heaping pile of tears, candy wrappers, and tissues.
You hear your apartment door open and the familiar click of boots who belonged to no other than your best friend, Shawn.
You don't bother trying to make it seem like you weren't bothered by the break-up, but rather, you embraced it as you lied in a dump.
You hear the creaking of your bedroom door, light entering from the hallway as the sun shone through your apartment windows. You turn your body away from the entrance and suck in the snot running down your face in preparation of another speech.
"Y/N?" Shawn sat on your full sized bed. "Your mom called me to check up on you. I would ask if you were okay, but you're sulking in bed."
You groan as you imagine another speech from someone as your mother had with you yesterday about how "he's just a boy" and "he just wasn't the one".
You hear the crinkling of wrappers and whispered ews as Shawn begins cleaning off your bed. He then tugs on the blanket to uncover you, but you grip on tight as you sniffle yet again.
"Y/N, come on. Just come into the living room with me," Shawn insists.
You comply and uncover. "First, let me wash my face. I'm a snotty and teary mess." You walk into the adjoined Master bathroom and wash up your face with warm water and a morning splash of morning burst facial cleaner despite it being noon -- not actually being morning. You pin your unbrushed hair into a bun and adjust your loose, white t-shirt and black leggings. You stretch, popping every joint in your body. It felt good to be out of bed, but mentally, you weren't ready to interact with people.
You slowly bring yourself out of the bathroom to see a smiling Shawn."There you go! Now come on; I wanna do something with you."
You whine. "Shawn, I don't want to leave the apartment. I just -"
"No, don't worry we aren't going outside. We are just going to the living room." Shawn takes your hand and leads you to the spacious living room you had. He put on a slow song that you and your ex-boyfriend danced to at Prom, and suddenly you start crying again.
"Shawn, I -"
He stops you as he pulls you close to his body, leading you in a slow dance which was weird cause Shawn never dances. "I practiced with Aaliyah. Don't worry, I won't crush your toes."
You put your head against his chest and followed his lead. "He said if I were thinner, I'd attract more guys, and he said our love 'didn't feel the same for months' before we broke up."
"Shhh, it's okay. You're perfect; he's just an ass." Shawn kisses the top of your head. "I love you, Y/N."
Sorry I haven't really been updating. I've been in a very low situation. My boyfriend broke up with me last week and I just haven't been taking it too well. What he said to me is used in this imagine. I kinda wrote this for me, but I thought I would share it. Love you all!