Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Perfect. Anything you may recognize as someone elses work is not mine. Just the thoughts in my head after a very long and stressful couple of months.
AN: It's been a while since I've written anything, so I'm a bit rusty. This isn't beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. It may be a bit choppy, but that's just because I took actual quotes that happened in my real life and had to vent, so this might all be jumbled thoughts. Writing is my anti-drug after all, and I'm trying to cut down on the drinking, so. Free therapy and all that. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. Lemme know what you think. Happy Reading.
AN#2: Also, this is my first time writing in 2nd person, and I'm pretty sure I got my tenses mixed up. Was never really good at that, but I hope it's not too horrible.
Shoot Me Down (But I Won't Fall)
"I'll be happy when I know you are."
"I wanted to be happy with you."
It's funny, isn't it? You want to stay with someone, hoping that the happiness you felt in the beginning would come back and embrace your relationship again, but all along it was just going downhill. The harder you tried to grasp at something, the more it ground into the palm of your hand until it just turned into grains of what it use to be.
When it was completely turned into dust is when everything just hits you. You tried your hardest to make her happy, keep her satisfied and interested, but in the end it was all for nothing. You gave and gave and gave but never got anything back in return, and what you did get back you swallowed it whole and used it to fuel your need to give and give and give time and time again, just for the chance of her giving back what little things she wanted to give.
"I'm not ready for a relationship, or commitment."
As you sit back in your chair and run the words through your brain over and over again, you get undeniably angry. The closest thing to you is your bed, so you punch the post over and over again until your fist gets numb and you just can't feel the pain anymore. The more the words float around in your head, the heavier the tears fall and the rage building inside you intensifies.
You can't help but wish she told you this sooner, before you spent the better part of a year catering to her every whim. Here you were thinking that you were both working towards a future together, a life with one another in it, while she always knew that things weren't even gonna last. It fucking cuts you deep as you let the bitterness and resentment start taking it's shape in the pit of your stomach until it grows and grows, blackening whatever is left of your soul.
"Do you think we could try again in the future? If we ever crossed paths again?"
"I don't know if I'll be ready then, either."
No matter how bitter or resentful you are, you still hold on to the hope that you two can try again in the future. It doesn't matter how far into the future it is, you're still hopeful for another chance to reconcile and start all over. Maybe pick up where you left off, not the bittersweet ending, but when the honeymoon stage was still on and pick up from there and do things the right way the second time around.
The trust was always there, it was the communication that lacked. While you craved the attention and affection having a significant other entailed she, on the other hand, wanted her space and didn't share much of herself unless you pried it out of her. You knew that wasn't how relationships were supposed to be though, you weren't supposed to use a crowbar to pry things from your girlfriend, but that's what you had to do and for the most part you were okay with it... until you weren't.
You just wished that it was easier, communicating with her, or rather have her communicate with you; wished the conversation ebbed and flowed effortlessly with never a dull moment in sight. You're looking back now, and you didn't have that with her. There were moments where things were great, but more often than not they weren't. She'd ignore your texts for hours, days even, before replying. You, the eager beaver that you were, would forgive her the instant she finally replied back to you even though you vowed to make her sweat for keeping you waiting. There were moments when you tried to do what she did to you, and she would get so mad. You ignored her text for half an hour and she gave you the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. It wasn't fair. It still isn't fair.
"I doubt I'll be getting into any relationships in the near future. I certainly won't be looking for it."
"We weren't looking either, but look what happened to us."
You wanted to believe her when she said those words to you, but now not so much. You hear about her, from some of your mutual friends, about how she's finally met someone and now she's a totally different person. You don't know what to believe, and quite frankly you're trying desperately not to care but it's so difficult. You've unfollowed her all the social media networks, so you won't be tempted, and you actually just deactivated your whole Facebook account instead of unfriending her because it physically hurt to see her face in random pictures floating around on your time line.
There was one picture in general that made you decide to get away and stay away from the internet. It was a picture of her and another girl, arms wrapped around each other, and the biggest most genuine smile you'd ever seen graced her face. You felt a pang of jealousy, followed by hurt and anger. How come you were never on the receiving end of that smile? How come you never caused that smile to appear on her face? What did the red head have that you didn't? These questions plagued your thoughts and ate away at you, from the inside out.
From that moment on you vowed to yourself to never fall so fast or hard for someone who didn't even put in the effort to try and make you happy, like you would do for her. you are in pain right now, and the memories still haunt you, but you know in the future that you will meet someone who will care for you as much as you will for her. Good things take time, and you were going to wait things out until the right one came.
