What Keeps Me Up At Night
Just a little one shot Rogan. I was feeling in a kind of sadish mood, prom being here and all, so I decided to write a little sappiness. All of them with the dates are Diary entries, except for the one after the dashes. Enjoy.
June 4th, Dear Diary
I always thought Diaries were stupid, but hey, I need to write. Fill these blank pages with words, fill them with something, not leave them empty... like my heart. So whatever...
Loneliness is never an easy feeling to deal with. Unlike hatred or love, fear or sadness, there is nothing and noone that is tangible to link the emotion to. There's just nothing. You and nothing. You and noone.
He left for Canada 3 months ago and I feel like I'm drowning. He needed to find out about his past. Although I didn't quite like mine, I know I'd be even more messed up if it didn't exist, if my memories were just blank spaces, so a part of me wanted him to go. "Take your time," I said, cause "Hurry up" was just a little too harsh.
Letters are nice. He didn't bring a cell phone or a computer or anything, wanted to focus only on finding information, I get it. I don't like it, but I get it. I feel angry and sad and just fucked up in the head cause I need someone to console me, but the only person who is capable of doing that, is the person who is causing me the pain. But the letters, yea, they're nice. Keep me up to date, but I can only read 'soon' so many times before that word has no traces of hope left in it. Each day is like a duller version of everyday with him. The sun is shining as bright as ever in this hot June heat, but somehow seems dim and foggy when I look up to admire it's beautiful rays. Prom is around the corner, this is the time I was supposed to have graduated 'regular high school' except a year late, so for all the 18 and 19 year olds (Bobby, John, Jubilee, Kitty, Piotr, just to name a few) we have a ceremony in 4 days, and a dance, the prom we never got, the prom that mutants don't seem to deserve.
Logan and I can touch, and we did touch. As soon as I turned 18, we touched in a different way, I was just learning to control my skin, he risked it and it was the best darn risk he's ever taken. A single kiss, I held it off, held it longer than I thought possible, but it pulled, and he collapsed. He wasn't upset, and he risked it again and again and again until I had full control. Being able to connect with him on a physical level gave me a certain high that nothing ever could. Now, he's gone and I just can't handle the emptiness it's left within me.
June 5th, Dear Diary
I got a dress today. Everyone's had theirs months ago, but I held off, I was hoping Logan would come home and help me pick it out, but no such luck. It's long and black and plain. Sorta a metaphor for my life at the moment. Kitty asked me why I can't just move on and find a better replacement, something in the meantime, something to ease the ache, but that won't work. When you get a paper cut, you need a band aid. You don't need lemon juice, sandpaper, dirt or anything that's gonna make it hurt more, you need the band aid, something that has been so readily available to me and then ripped away like it was nothing. I think it hurts him too, but I'll never know, I'll be too afraid to ask, and he's too strong to show it. God I miss him. Everyone seems to think he's gonna show up right when prom is starting, a surprise Prince Charming, escorting me to the ball, but I don't think that's gonna happen.
The Professor told me that he'd try to get a location on Logan for me tomorrow. I declined. It doesn't really help me at all. He could be in the Arctic, on Mars, heck I don't care... he's not here. Until he's here, in my arms, I'll never give a rats ass about where he is. I just hope he's not dead. Until I get another letter, I'll hold my breath. Sure, I could have Chuck check up on him every once and a while, but if he was really dead, I don't think I'd wanna know... this hope is the one thing pushing me out of bed in the morning... but also the one thing that keeps me up at night.
June 6th, Dear Diary
Prom's tomorrow, honestly, I'm dreading it. Jubes is so excited and even more electrified than usual, and Kitty is fucking off the walls. They both have dates; John and Bobby. They're both skipping class tomorrow to go and get their nails and hair done, but I'm not. The classes get my mind off of him. I feel like if I put more information into my brain, the useless worrying will get pushed out.
Where is he? Is he okay? Will he really be back for prom? I don't know, but I can keep hoping, can't I?
June 7th, Dear Diary
Prom was fine. He didn't show. I knew it. But the whole damn fucking shit fucking goddamn time I was looking out that fucking window, hoping to see him pull up on his bike, hair tousled from the wind, jacket a little filthy and torn, face unshaven and rough like I always liked it. But nothing. That's what hurts about being lonely, you don't even get something to hold onto to ease the pain. If you're afraid of the dark, get a night light, if funerals make you sad, don't go to them, but the only cure to loneliness is to find someone... but you can't, so you feel even more lonely... it's a vicious fucking cycle. He could be dead right now and I wouldn't even know it. Am I selfish to not care? Selfish for being more mad at him than I am concerned? Selfish to feel that the real reason he left was to get some space? Selfish to think that "I miss you" and "I love you" and "I'll be home soon" are just empty words he learned from a Soap Opera? Selfish to agree with Kitty that maybe I should find something else because the only damn thing I have ever had faith in was him and HE LET ME DOWN? HIM. HIM HIM HIM HIM HIM HIM HIM. The animal. Logan.
But I need to breath and be calm. Because it's prom night. And every girl needs to be beautiful and graceful and feel special on their prom night. My black dress is now wrinkled to shit and one of my heels broke from marching up the stairs so damn fast. I needed to get to my room before the tears started flowing. My mascara is so brutally smudged I look insane, but I don't care, why should I?
-still prom night-
I woke up to the sound rain, pouring outside my window, tapping on the glass like it was playing a sweet melody. I was still in my dress, slumped over my desk with my pen still in my hand. I read over what I wrote in my diary and closed the journal. What I wrote was straight feelings. No holds bar. Exactly how I felt and I meant it. 'Fuck him'. But no, don't, I didn't know. I slipped the awful heels off one by own and hissed as my bare feet made contact with the cold hardwood of the floor. I glanced at the clock, 1:43, I fell asleep for a little over three hours, not long enough to ease my anxiousness. My hair that was in a braided bun combo had become all messy as hell and I decided to take out the pins. I sat on the edge of my bed removing the bobby pins and placing them on my dresser. Counting.
"One, I wish he was here, Two, he did this on purpose, Three, why can't he think of me for once, Four, I'm being completely conceded, Five, he loves me, Six, what if he's with some skank, Seven, he loves me, Eight, he'll be home very soon, Nine, no man can go three months without a rendezvous, Ten, but maybe he can, Eleven..." I went on and on until I reached number 22.
"Twenty Two," and I stopped dead. I stared at the door way for what seemed like an eternity.
"Twenty Two, he needs you more than you need him," a soft, yet low voice spoke from the shadows in the hall through my door.
I pulled out another pin, still staring at the darkness in the doorway, "Twenty Three, he's sorry and yet deserves no forgiveness," it said slowly. Another pin, "Twenty Four, you're all he's ever wanted," Another, "Twenty Five, he brought you a corsage."
I paused, Twenty five pins was I all I had and I stared as a large, tall shadow moved into my room from outside the door. There he was, in all his glory, squeezed into a suit and tie with a clear box encasing a gorgeous white orchid corsage in his hands. Logan. He came.
He walked up to me slowly as I stood. I was a mess, hair tangled and misshapen, mascara half way down my cheeks, no shoes, dress all wrinkly, and yet, I felt more beautiful in that moment than I had ever felt before in my life.
He walked closer towards me until we were only about 2 feet apart and he held out the corsage, out of its box. I looked down at it, admiring it's beauty, then up, admiring the apologetic, sad, yet happy look on his face. I moved my hand so he could place it on my wrist but smacked it to the floor instead. He was confused for all of 2 seconds before I crashed my lips down onto his and wrapped my arms so tightly around him I was sure his eyes were going to bulge out of his skull. He squeezed me back and kissed me more feverishly than I, relishing in the closeness we felt once again.
"I'm so sorry, Marie, I can't even put into words, I've been so selfish, it was all for me, but you're all I ever wanted, I spent all my nights alone, every single one, missing you," he whimpered, on the verge of tears. I was balling already, grabbing at every muscle I could feel and kissing every part of his face.
"I've been selfish, Logan, more than you, you needed this, but I couldn't handle it," I exclaimed back.
"I'm never leaving you again, I promise. My past will never matter as much to me as my future does... with you," he nuzzled into my neck and once again I felt whole. The moon seemed brighter and the words that slipped from my mouth seemed happier, cheerier, merrier.
"I missed you so fucking much, it hurts," I cried.
"I missed you too, so motherfucking much," he replied, crushing me into another hug. We just needed to be as close as possible, covering each other with our bodies.
He stepped back and held my hands for a moment, "You look beautiful, Marie."
I blushed and smiled lightly, he was everything I ever needed, ever.
We sat on my bed and talked for hours, breaking in between to kiss and hug, cuddle and nuzzle with each other, crying over missed moments and lost memories. He was back, and I couldn't have been happier.
June 8th, Dear Diary
Loneliness is never an easy feeling to deal with. The cure is so hard to find, it's almost as if one doesn't exist at all. But when you find it, when you get your hand on that special little antidote, never, and I mean NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER... let it go.