This Is My Version; A Conor Maynard Fanfiction

Chapter 14

Conor's POV

"I'm fucking done, Conor, I'm fucking done!"

The girl that had stolen my heart just under three years ago slams the cup she'd been holding down against the countertop, the shards flying all over the kitchen floor as a result of the force that had been used.

She's crying and it's my fault. I've hurt her, once again said things I didn't mean.

"Tía, I'm sorry, I really am. I-"

"Don't fucking call me that!"

I sigh, beginning to walk away from her. She needed space and then she'd come back asking for a cuddle. She always did and I know I'm being a dick for even thinking it but this is the way it's been the past few months.

We argue because I don't care anymore, because I spend too much time away from her. Then she comes crawling back, crying and apologising and we fall asleep in each other's arms each and every night.

"Conor, I'm being serious, I'm done- we're done"

Her eyes are dark as I turn around in shock. She didn't mean it, she couldn't mean it.

I take a step forward but she just shakes her head, confirming that what I'd heard wasn't a heat of the moment thing, she really did mean it.

"Are you breaking up with me?! Are you?!"

The nod I get back is enough to kill me. Of course had I expected it, we'd been arguing for months but I had always been hoping that we'd figure things out, that each time it happened would be the last time.

"You've made your choice Conor, I'm clearly not good enough for you anymore"

"What choice?! Victoria, what the fuck are you talking about?! I love you, I-"

Seeing her cry hurt like hell, my heart shattering just like the cup had done only minutes earlier. It can't be true, it just can't. I wouldn't be able to live if it was.

"I loved you Conor, I really did but this isn't love. Arguing every night isn't love. Not seeing you for weeks on end because of your career isn't love. I'm done with always being second choice, Conor. I believe you can make it, fucking hell, you've already made it but I think that you need space to grow and with me here you won't be able to do just that"

She bent down to the floor, picking up the pieces one after another before throwing the sharp shards into the bin and it could easily have been my heart.

"I promise you I'll change, I'll- I'll do anything. We can go on holiday just us two, I'll book it right now, we can go tomorrow. We can sort this out, Victoria, I can sort this out"

I begged despite knowing it was already too late. She'd made up her mind and nothing was ever going to change that. She'd broken me, ripped my heart out of my chest and it hurt like hell.

"You'll never be able to buy my love, Conor and you know that. What we had was real, like I said, I really loved you but it's over. I'll pack a bag and get going tonight"

I wake up with a start, tears streaming down my cheeks as I try to catch my breath.

She was gone, in love with another man, a man that isn't me.

My chest is tight, my heart racing from the obvious panic attack I'd just experienced in my sleep.

It'd sort of become a regular recurrence. As soon as I fall asleep I wake up in the most horrible way ever, just like today.

And I don't even care anymore, already having accepted my faith. If this happens to be the end of me I wouldn't even be annoyed, because I sort of deserve it.

I've done things that can't be forgiven or forgotten for that sake. I'd broken someone's heart, become naive and selfish and immature.

I'd hurt the person I loved the most, the person that made up the half of me, the person that had built me into who I currently am.

Yet that doesn't matter anymore. The three years we'd spent together was now nothing but a waste of my time and everything was my fault.

I reach for my phone, the generic iPhone background hurting my eyes as I press the home button to check the time.

4.03 am

How ironic. It's almost enough to make me laugh but I'm too broken to do so, too broken to feel anything but pain and anxiety.

It really is four in the morning and I really am staring at my ceiling on my own like I was last weekend.

I don't know if I'm ever going to release that song because it told so much truth, held so much pain.

Am I ready for people to know?

I've always been good at acting and people still to this day don't know just how fucked up I am. Not my parents, not my siblings, not my friends.

I had hidden it all, built walls to protect myself, created this online persona that constantly was nothing but happy.

And this had meant I'd lost who I really am. I've forgotten about Conor Maynard, forgotten about how it feels to be genuinely happy.

Some people would say that it's sad and maybe it is. I just don't see it that way. To me it's a way of coping, a way of not letting anyone too close in case I'd end up heartbroken again.

I say that as if I'm not still hurting from the heartbreak I endured a year ago and to be honest I think that pain will never really leave me alone.

I've just sort of learned to live with it, accepting it so to say. Like when you have a piece of gravel in your shoe and you can't be bothered with taking it off and emptying it. You just accept that it'll be there for the rest of the time you have your shoes on.  At first the pain is almost too much to handle but as time goes by you start to ignore it until it only hurts in certain circumstances.

That most painful period was now sort of over and I'd just accepted that the stone wasn't going to go anywhere. Either I stop to empty it out and risk losing everything in the process or I carry on and risk getting more hurt.

Had I just compared heartbreak to having a stone in your shoe?

God, my brain really is a mess at four in the morning after a bad night's sleep.