Title: Twenty-Four
Summary: So I here I sit, carving hearts into painkillers.
Disclaimers: I am in no way associated with the WWE and its wrestlers.
It has been twenty-four days since you left.
Twenty-four of the most gross and horrible days of my life. No explanation, no goodbyes, no nothing. Just a small note left on my chest, stating the obvious.
I'm leaving.
I could've figured that out on my own. I mean, I know we had problems but I never expected this. You never sugar coated anything. I would have been able to handle you leaving. This makes it so much worse, that it's obvious you don't respect me enough to let me know to my face that you were going.
So now I sit on the floor of some shitty little motel, carving hearts into painkillers and drinking vodka, trying to forget. Trying to forget your face, you laugh, your smile. I hear my phone ring and don't even look at it. But when the phone dings, telling me I have a voicemail I can't resist and snatch it up. It was from Torrie,
"Stacy, I know you're there… It's not healthy for you to be cooped up in your hotel room, mourning over Rob. Call me later and we can have a girl's night out? Or a girls night in? What ever you're up to." I break the connection and throw the phone on the bed. No, Torrie. I do not want to have any sort of night, thank you very much. I know I'm being unfair, but I really don't care anymore. I'm so sick of people saying that I need to move on, that I'm young and don't need to dwell on this. But every time I do, I see HIM. I see Rob laughing at me, kissing some beautiful girl.
I stretch out on the floor and stare at the ceiling. I am then rudely interrupted out of my self-loathing thoughts by a knock on the door. I fully intend to ignore it. The knocking persists and I get to my feet and yank the door open, and glare at the man on the other side. He gives me a fearful look and thrusts a box in my hands. I shoot him a questioning glance, and he points to a car in the parking lot.
"He paid me fifty bucks to deliver this box to the girl in this room." I move to the edge of the balcony to see who was in the car. Before I could see who was in the vehicle, it sped off. I stared at the shrinking red lights until I couldn't see them anymore. I make my way back to the room. I sit the box on the counter. I try to open it with my fingers, but I had long since chewed my nails down to the fingertips. Frustrated, I grab a knife I had sitting on the counter and slice the tape. Inside is a box of Smarties and a note. I open the Smarties and pop one in my mouth. This probably was a stupid thing to do, accepting candy from a complete stranger. But part of me wanted the candy to be poisoned. I grab the carefully folded note at the bottom. I open it and drop the box of Smarties. The candy falld artistically across the floor. There is only one line to the note, but I know instantly who it is from.
NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT. I LOVE YOU.