Disclaimer. No Copy right Intended. Lyrics are changed a bit, but song is Teardrops on my Guitar by Taylor Swift.
She's been your best friend since the moment she walked up to you and offered you half her sandwich after six-year-old Dave Karofsky had taken yours. She's been your best friend through the heartbreakes, the headaches, and everything else life threw at you. Even when she was the cause of them. But you don't tell her that; it'd break her heart. So, you let her break yours because it keeps her happy.
She came out to you the night before freshman year. You just shrugged, saying, "okay," and that was that. You'd never thought it would come back and bite you in the ass.
Midway through sophomore year a new girl transferred to your school. She immediately caught your best friend's eye and you would stay up late at night listening to the girl on the other end of the phone as she rambled on about how amazing this new girl is. All you could hear was how much better she was than you. You swallowed your pride, literally, and croaked out, "You should ask her out." And she did.
They've been together for two years now. This girl makes your best friend happier than you've ever seen her; happier than you ever made her. That never stopped you from falling so hopelessly in love with her though. So you stick by her side and let her tell you all about how this girl buys her flowers, compliments her on a daily basis, and looks at her like she's the last girl to ever exist on this earth; all the things you wish you could do, but can't. It's slowly killing you inside. Every second is just another twist of the knife into your already shattered soul. You know it won't be much longer until you break completely. They both got accepted into UCLA and you got accepted into Julliard. They invited you out to celebrate with them, and you couldn't decline because then she would ask you, "what's wrong?" and you'd be putty in her hands. You spent the entire night being a third wheel. That night you cried yourself to sleep, the same way you've been doing for the last two years.
You ignored all her requests to hang out the next day, shooting her a short text that read hung-over, sorry. Truth is you hadn't had a sip of alcohol the night before, you just needed an excuse to avoid her. Every time you go near her, butterflies swarm in your stomach and your skin gets all tingly like when you rub your sock covered feet on the carpet in the winter and press your finger to an electrical switch. Lord Tubbington thinks you're crazy, but you just think it's because he's never been in love before. You almost wish you didn't have to fall in love with her. Out of seven billion people, of course you find the one you can never have. All those fairytales Daddy used to read to you before bedtime are BULLSHIT. Real life doesn't have happy endings. So you do the only thing you know how to, you dance. You spend the weekend camped out in your basement studio, her playlist on repeat. Dance has been the one thing in your life you could always turn to, especially when you couldn't turn to her. You could close your eyes and get lost in the music. Reality was non-existent. You'd dance until your muscles ached, then danced some more, knowing it could never compare to the infinite dull thud of the organ in your chest. Then, when you've ran out of tears to cry, you would drag your body up the stairs and submerge yourself in an ice bath. You'd sit in that ice bath, in the dark, in complete silence, until all the ice melted, confirming that yes, you were still alive. You're body still generated heat, even when you're heart didn't.
She'd never admit it, but she was secretly a fan of country music. She would make you listen to it for hours when it was just you and her. You'd dance around her room in your underwear and she would sing into a hairbrush in front of her mirror. You used to smile at the memory, but now it makes you cringe. You decided that it would be the best way to tell her how you feel. Minus the underwear part, though, that would be kinda creepy if you walked into glee club in just your blue, duck-printed panties.
She had an arm wrapped around her girlfriend's waist as you sat on a stool in the middle of the room and began to play. No one knew you could play guitar, but you learn things like that when you're lonely.
"San looks at me, I fake a smile so she won't see
That I want, and I'm needing everything that we should be
I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl you talk about
And she's got everything that I have to live without
San talks to me, I laugh 'cause it's so damn funny
That I can't even see anyone when she's with me
She says she's so in love, she's finally got it right
I wonder if she knows she's all I think about at night
She's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar
The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star
She's the song in the car I keep singing don't know why I do
San walks by me, can't she tell that I can't breathe
And there you go so perfectly, the kind of flawless I wish I could be
She better hold you tight, give you all her love
Look in your beautiful eyes, and know she's lucky 'cause
You're the reason for the teardrops on my guitar
The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star
You're the song in the car I keep singing don't know why I do
So I drive home alone, as I turn out the light
I'll put your picture down and maybe get some sleep tonight
Cause you're the reason for the teardrops on my guitar
The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart
You're the song in the car I keep singing
Don't know why I do
You're the time taken up, but there's never enough
And you're all that I need to fall into
San looks at me,
I
Fake a smile so she won't
See
You have tears flowing freely down your cheeks by the time you're done. An eerie silence follows your performance because no one knows what to do. Her girlfriend looks furious, but she just looks sad. Mr. Schue starts a slow clap and a few others gradually join in. She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Instead, she destroys you entirely by looking at her girlfriend. You sprint out of the room, your guitar hitting the ground behind you. Everything is a blur. You're running through your neighborhood, tears burning your eyes and memories flashing through your mind as you pass everything that reminds you of her. You knew this was a bad idea. But the heart wants what the heart wants. You should've learned a long time ago that life is only a slap in the face when you need it least. Daddy died in the war, prince charming doesn't exist, and you're only friend is the girl who you fell in love with but doesn't love you back.
You run until your legs burn. Your chest is contracting as you gasp for air, but you don't stop. You run across the secluded bridge she showed you the summer before freshman year and you jump into the creek, images of her plaguing your soul before everything fades into darkness.