Tonight I Wanna Cry by Acci0 Malf0y
Song by Keith Urban
Alone in this house again tonight
I got the TV on, sound turned down and a bottle of wine…
It was their anniversary, or at least, it would've been, if they were still together of course. But they weren't. After four years of dating, she broke up with him. Broke his heart. It wouldn't have been so bad, wouldn't have hurt so much, if he had liked the person she had dumped him for. But, he didn't. In fact, he hated him. He always had. Always will. Stupid bouncing ferret, he thought.
There's pictures of you and I on the walls around me…
He took a swig from the bottle of firewhiskey that was sitting next to him. It was supposed to burn, but he had taken so many drinks, he couldn't feel it anymore. He couldn't really feel anything anymore. He turned his head and looked at the picture of them together – a time when they were happy. He took the picture and rubbed his calloused finger across it, making sure it was real. He watched himself and her gaze at each other lovingly and then turn to the camera with a smile. He let go of the picture and watched it flutter from his hands onto the ground. He leant his head back, his too long ginger hair falling in his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair in an agitated manner then scratched his five o'clock shadow. He was slowly falling apart.
The way that it was and could've been surrounds me…
We could've had the perfect life. A big family, cozy home. But no. Images of what could've been their life, ran through his mind. Children with unruly red hair, freckles and honey brown eyes. A cottage by the sea with an orchard in the back. A porch swing with the two of them on it, watching their children read in the grass or fly around on their tiny broomsticks. He rubbed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the images.
I'll never get over you walking away…
Why? Why did she leave me? Why did she choose HIM over ME? She said she loved me! How could I have been so stupid? So blind?
Would it help if I turned a sad song on
"All by Myself" would sure it me hard now that you're gone
Or maybe unfold some old yellow lost love letters…
All those poems and love songs. Letters and kisses. It's like they meant nothing! His sadness was now becoming some sort of anger. A rage that couldn't be quenched like a thirst after days in the desert. The wanker stole my girl! And she just went along with it. She's such a…such a…a whore! By now, he wasn't just mad at her, but himself also for falling in love with her and getting himself hurt. He launched himself from his spot on the sofa, and quickly walked to his bedroom. He pulled a box down from his closet, took his wand and incinerated it. His breathing was hard from what he just did.
It's gonna hurt bad before it gets better…
His breathing slowed. He looked at the pile of ashes at his feet. What did I just do? He had just gotten rid of every memory of their relationship. Letter, pictures, everything. His legs collapsed under him and he fell to his knees and put his head in his hands. His tears started falling, filling his hands and falling through the cracks of his fingers to the carpet, mixing with the ashes.
I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I thought that bein' strong mean never losin' your self-control
But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain
To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain
From my eyes
Tonight I wanna cry
His tears kept coming and coming, running down his face. Why? Why does it have to hurt so much? Why am I even acting like this? He was never a crier. Not one that showed his emotion, but bottled it up instead. He had never shown her how he really felt, who he really was deep down. All of those late nights, adventures and trials just seemed to be a lie. And now, because of this, she was gone. His tears ran freely now, flowing like an open tap. He wiped his face on the back of his sleeve, removing the tears and snot that had mixed together. He was dejected, defeated and so low that he just wanted to curl up and sleep forever.
He Accio-ed his firewhiskey and took a long gulp. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and got up from the floor. His mind was jumbled and full of so many emotions and thoughts. He looked in the mirror and saw the mess that he had become in the day that he had been apart from her. He needed her, and he didn't like that. He needed to be a man, to be strong and to be able to deal on his own. He turned, and walked to the bed, grabbed a pillow and screamed into it.
The tears had finally stopped. His rush of feelings gone, and his soul left feeling peaceful and content in letting his emotions run free. The day was done and he was ready for tomorrow.
As he lay down for bed, his last thought was: I might still love you, but I'll never get over you by hiding this way.