sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger, the person that you take a bullet for is behind the trigger. oh, we're fading fast, i miss missing you now and then.
The first thing you're supposed to do, after you burn yourself, is to remove any heat source. Then, submerge the affected area in cool water, because just removing the heat isn't enough; the skin can still blister and swell, causing pain and irritation.
You never learn, you stupid girl.
There's something addictive about a flame. It draws you, like a moth to a...flame. Nothing can deter you, not even the immense pain. You were always told pain is temporary. Maybe that's why you do this. You know it won't last, just like every other fucking thing, so you cling to it.
You're clingy. Everyone thinks it. You're a clingy girlfriend. You're too emotionally dependent on the affection you crave, this burning desire for him to see you, to listen to you, to make love to you. But you can't help it. He makes you happy, until he doesn't, and then you itch for just a scrap of attention. Something to prove he loves you, if only half as much as you love him. You know it could be in vain, but you do it anyway. You scream and yell, until your throat is on fire; you throw and kick, until you're walking on broken glass; you bawl and sob, until you're certain you're drowning; you ignore and reject, until you're all alone; you do it all, to prove your own love for him. But it's an itch that you can't scratch, my dear. It's fucked up, and so are you. It didn't work, and neither do you.
You never learn, you stupid girl.
You're angry. You're angry with yourself. You had it all, you had more than you could ever wish for, and you fucked it all up. And you're angry with that goddamn door. But you're not angry with him, because who can blame him? He was given two choices, and he picked one. Besides, you gave him the choice. It wouldn't be fair to make him stay, to make him unhappy; your happiness is fleeting, and it should not be valued over his. You made your bed, so you should lie in it. But instead, you choose to lie on the cold, hard ground, and you choose to stay angry - with yourself, and the door.
You never learn, you stupid girl.
You can't breathe. You have spent 17 years on this godforsaken earth, and you've forgotten how to breathe. You walked away from the door three months ago, but every day is a new heartbreak. It could be a post on The Slap, showing him, surrounded by a gaggle of girls, all clones of one another, admiring his hair, or his abs, or his everything. It could be a jibe, made by your not-friends, at how much of a gank you are. It could just be the loneliness of it all. He wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend. You told each other everything - like when you were eight, and your parents had their first big fight. He was there. Or when you were twelve, and they finalised their divorce; he invited you to his house for tea, and made you popcorn, while you watched Keeping Up With The Karadashians together, just to laugh at the hilarity of it, and forget about life for a while.
You don't have that anymore. You have scalding hot showers, alone. You have ice cold baths, alone. You toss and turn every night, alone. You walk to school, alone. You're on your fucking own. And it's all your fault.
You never learn, you stupid girl.
You can't sleep, but what's new? Insomnia has driven you insane, and you don't think you've slept, all through the night, since you slept with him. So, when you notice how tired he looks, you guess it's the same for him. When his eyes find yours, in the deserted corridor, for the first time in five months, you don't look away. A smile ghosts your face, before you remember everything, and you wipe it off without a trace of it being there in the first place. His smile also disappears, but he approaches you. You let him. He opens his mouth to speak. You let him. He touches your arm. You let him, although he looked pained after you flinched. Still, his hand is on your arm.
"How...how've you been?"
You shrug, and raise your eyebrow. He also shrugs.
"I...I'm sorry, J."
"Forget about it."
"No, I wan-"
"I said forget about it."
You walk off in the opposite direction, walking faster when you hear his footsteps following you, until they stop. You should feel victorious, but you feel like someone has punched you in the gut.
You never learn, you stupid girl.
You're spending another night alone, in your room, with a bottle of Jack Daniel's. You decide to check The Slap, on a whim. At the top of your feed, posted , exactly one minute ago, is Beck's update: accidentally brewed coffee for two...anyone wanna share?
You know you shouldn't. He's your ex, for fuck's sake. But you message him anyway; perhaps it was the doing of the toxic cocktail of insomnia and self loathing.
To Beck Oliver: I want coffee.
The reply came through within seconds.
To Jade West: save me from the northridge girls pls. want me to pick you up? xB
How typical of him; he had already been bombarded by those Northridge sluts. And the kiss at the end doesn't amiss. He signed his message the way he used to, when you were together.
To Beck Oliver: It's not that far a walk.
To Jade West: sure? xB
To Beck Oliver: Yes. Keep my coffee hot. If it's not scalding, I'm going home.
To Jade West: whatever you say. xB
You grab your bag, throw your phone, purse and keys into it, and climb down the drainpipe; you can't help but think back to when you did this, to meet him, your legs shaking with anticipation and adrenaline. Now, you just feel cold and miserable. Still, the coffee would be worth it - Beck always brewed the best coffee. You hear your phone beep, from within your bag, nearly making you lose your balance on the drainpipe. As your feet hit the ground, you whip it out.
To Jade West: so...are you coming? xB
To Beck Oliver: Well, I don't know, considering I nearly fell off a twenty foot drainpipe, because someone had to message me and throw me off my balance.
To Jade West: i can make up for it ;) xB
To Beck Oliver: If it's with more winky faces, then I'm climbing back up the drainpipe.
To Jade West: tempting...but no. it's something better. xB
To Beck Oliver: What?
To Jade West: you'll have to wait and see. xB
To Jade West: ... xB
To Jade West: ? xB
To Jade West: come on! aren't you gonna force it out of me? xB
To Beck Oliver: No. I don't care that much.
To Jade West: that's a lie. i know you jade ;) xB
To Beck Oliver: Stop.
To Jade West: NEVERRRRR ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) xB
To Beck Oliver: I fucking hate you.
To Jade West: i know. but you love my coffee, which is a fair compromise. xB
To Beck Oliver: ...
To Jade West: where are you? xB
To Beck Oliver: Park.
To Jade West: ahhh the many memories we have from that park ;) xB
To Beck Oliver: Stop. With. The. Winky. Faces. I have scissors.
To Jade West: i know you have scissors. you don't scare me ;) xB
To Beck Oliver: You're exasperating.
To Jade West: but you love me anyway? ;) xB
To Beck Oliver: Don't push your luck. I have my scissoring scissors tonight.
To Jade West: wru? xB
To Beck Oliver: Back gate. It's locked.
You stand there, shivering, for some unknown reason, when you see a figure on the other side of the gate. You know it's Beck as soon as you see him; he's taller than his mother, but a few inches shorter than his father, and who else would be stood at the Oliver's back gate, ? You hear the lock turn, and the gate creaks open, despite Beck's attempt at hushing it. You still don't know why you're here.
You never learn, you stupid girl.
"Hi," he smiles, standing at the gate.
"Yeah. Hey. Coffee?" you ask, not caring how blunt you sound.
"Right. Yeah."
He remains standing there, as you tap your foot impatiently.
"You gonna move?"
"Jade, I-"
"Not now. After coffee."
He moves aside, watching you, as you zoom into the open RV, smelling the dark, freshly brewed, heavenly liquid.
"You really want coffee, huh?"
"Well, yeah. Why else would I be here?" Although you know you made a valid point, you can't help but notice the pained look on his face, so you continue; "I didn't think you still wanted to be friends."
"What do you think I've been doing these past six months?"
"Moving on, being civil, I..I don't know. I just came here for coffee."
"Have you been drinking?"
You look at him, and from the expression on his face, he knows it was a pointless question. Hell, even you can smell the alcohol on your breath, not to mention the vile taste in your mouth.
"I need coffee."
"Why, Jade?"
"Because I want cof-"
"No," he replied, shaking his head. Before you can yell at him for interrupting you, he says, "I mean, why have you been drinking?"
"What is this, 20 Questions?"
"Jade."
"I don't know, my life doesn't involve you anymore!"
"Why won't you just talk to me? We used to tell each other everything!"
"Exactly. We used to. I don't even know why I came."
"Coffee?" he asked, walking over to the machine they had bought together.
"Now."
You never learn, you stupid girl.
You know it's late - too late to be at your ex boyfriend's house. But the couch is reminiscently comfy, and the coffee tastes good; it tastes of memories. So you keep on sipping, refilling it at least twice. Beck just sits and watches - he never could handle more than three cups, before he mimicked a mouse caught in a cat's mouth. You begin to reminisce together, and before you know it, you're sat on his lap, and he's stroking your hair.
"Why haven't you been with anyone since...well..me?" you ask, way too hesitantly for your liking.
"I could ask you the same question," he chuckled awkwardly, picking up your hand to play with your fingers.
"I asked you first."
"I don't know...I guess I didn't want to be the first to admit that we're really over. It...it feels wrong to be with anyone else."
"You can date other people, you know," you tell him, not too sure whether you're convincing him, or yourself, that you really are okay with it. "It's not like I'm gonna get crazy jealous again. I don't have the right to anymore," you laugh, and he joins in with you.
"So, what about you?"
"It doesn't feel the same as it did with you. I don't even know why I'm saying this. I don't even know why I'm here."
"I'm glad you came," he admits, placing a hand on your thigh. "You're right, it doesn't feel the same with anyone else."
Then, just like that, he's kissing you, and you're kissing him. Your hand slides into his hair, but it isn't as fluffy as it used to be. His hand slides onto your hip, which is bonier than it used to be. Your hands interlock, both colder than they used to be.
The kiss is a chaste one, although you can taste the coffee on his tongue. It is one of longing, rather than lusting, which you have learnt are two very different things. You don't want to have him inside you, you just want him holding you. It seems like he feels the same way, and suddenly you don't feel lonely and out of place anymore. You feel like you've found home again.
You never learn, you stupid girl.
"Meredith?!" you scream, the pain in your chest unbearable. Beck looks helpless, as he glares from Tori to André. "I knew it! I knew it two years ago, when you were in that awful play together," you spit, ignoring André's comment. You continue to yell at him, about Meredith's cupcakes. But what really pisses you off, is Beck's response.
"Meredith offers everyone cupcakes, her dad owns a cupcake shop."
You stand there, panting, while Beck confirms to André and Tori that Meredith's dad owns Frank's Cupcakes. You can't take this much longer; you feel like your head will explode, along with just about every feeling you'd been holding onto since last night. "You know what?" You don't know where you're going with this. "I don't care." Yes, you do. "Go on a date with Meredith. Enjoy her cupcakes." You do your best to sashay out of the room, but your chest is heaving in and out, while your brain pounds against your skull, making you clutch the wall next to you. You see Beck storm out of the janitor's closet, as he spots you, just as everything turns hazy.
"Jade?" he asks, and that's the last thing you hear, until your eyes flicker shut.
He's also the first thing you see, when your eyes flutter open again, only this time, you're on the floor. "Jade?"
"What?" you snap, growing more annoyed when his face falls into a smile.
"You had me scared for all of three seconds. Not bad, West."
"I'm sure Meredith could do better," you mutter bitterly, feeling somewhat satisfied when his smile fades.
"I had nothing to do with that. It's just Tor-"
"Oh, it's always Tori."
"Really? We're gonna have this fight again, in the middle of the corridor?" he asks, gesturing to the group of people who had gathered around the infamous ex-couple of Hollywood Arts.
"Yeah, we are!" you shout, jumping to your wobbly feet.
"Janitor's closet," he hisses, as you allow him to drag you to where you were supposed to meet, before all this happened.
"Really? You expect me to believe that Tori and André tried to set you up with the very girl you used to fuck?" You're out of order, but you can't stop now.
"Nothing ever happened between me and Meredith."
"Oh, whatever, Beck."
"I want you, Jade. Not Meredith, or Tori, or any Northridge girl. You."
"No, you wanna get into my pants. I should never have come round last night. I was doing just fine without you."
"So everything you said last night was a lie?" he challenged. "No, I know you, Jade. You want me too."
"No," you snap, shoving his chest. Bad move. He grabs your hands, pressing them to his heart, which is beating just as fast as yours. He then kisses your forehead.
"Jade, I'm gonna go to the Full Moon Jam with Meredith, explain everything, and then I'll come and find you."
"Whatever," you say, before leaving the closet.
You never learn, you stupid girl.
"I missed you."
He takes a step towards you.
"So what're you gonna do about it?"
He takes another step, and you can feel his warm breath against your face. He leans in to kiss you; you kiss back. The world around you disappears, your hand cupping his soft cheek. You pull away long enough to glance at the raucous applause that sounds, but you turn back to Beck, kissing him again.
"You found me," you whisper.
"Easy is boring," he whispers back, pecking your lips gently.
"Cheeseball."
"But you love me anyway?"
"That I do," you smile, kissing him again.
"You're learning, baby girl."