All of Your Love Chapter 2: Tonight I Wanna Cry, a lord of the flies fanfic

I know, another songfic Thursday? Really? Well, yes, really. It's the only way to get the right emotions. So this one is by Keith Urban, I don't own, blah, blah blah... enjoy! And, yes, there will be a third chapter :)

Alone in this house again tonight
I've got the TV on, the sound turned down and a bottle of wine
There's pictures of you and I on the walls around me
The way that it was and could have been surrounds me
I'll never get over you walkin' away

Tonight, I couldn't even get myself to the door to try and go out. This is the seventh night in a row where I've been stuck in front of the tv with a bottle of wine. I can't seem to get my mind off of him. It doesn't help much that I haven't gotten around to taking down the pictures that Ralph put up so many months ago. It feels like just yesterday that I came home to find that letter. Right after he left, I took three days off from work to try and find him. Although he asked me not to in his letter, but I wasn't about to just let him go. Not after what had just happened.

I decided that I would try to get over him then, right away. The next few nights after my tiny search party for him, I went out every night. Trying to fill that hole that Ralph had left, and I would find it at any cost. Countless men and women filled my bed. All of them never good enough to be next to me.

Over the next few weeks, I got random bouts of depression. I was barely able to get up for work, or eat any food. And whenever I went to the pub to bring someone home, I would get nauseous. Days went by before I realized that I hadn't aten anything at all. I only noticed because I passed out at work and my boss had to call an ambulance. Then I made a constant effort to keep the liquor cabinet stocked. Alcohol seemed to be the only thing that helped my depression. My mother worries about me, but she doesn't visit half as often anymore.

The telly played in front of me, volume barely above a whisper. A guy wearing a stupid shirt and a headset was trying to sell something. I took another swig of red wine from the bottle and looked around the room. There wasn't any lights on in the room, only the light from the telly. I spotted Ralph's favorite picture of us. It was hard to see, but I knew it was his favorite because of the frame. The piece of plastic was too expensive in my opinion, and there was a small fight over it. He said it was worth it, only because of what he wanted to put in the frame. Once I saw the picture, I stopped arguing. I didn't apologize for being a prat though. The picture was of his college graduation party. He was in casual clothes, holding up a red beer cup, with his other arm swung around my shoulder. We had only been going out for a few months when the picture was taken.

It was his favorite because there wasn't a lot of pictures from our college days, this being one of the only good ones. He also said that that night was the best night of his life. That was the first time we had sex that we remembered. Ralph always counted that as our first time instead of that drunken one. I counted the drunken one, otherwise we wouldn't have been together.

I sighed and finished off the rest of the wine. This was my second bottle tonight. Logically, you'd think that my tolerance for alcohol would increase, but I've been getting drunker faster. It would take almost four bottles of wine to get me buzzed before Ralph, and now, I'm starting to see two stupid guys in stupid shirts trying to sell something equally, if not more, stupid.

I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I've thought that bein' strong meant 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.

I felt warm tears streaking down my cheeks and my face burning up in embarrassment. Crying was showing weakness, something I haven't done since our days on the island. I didn't even cry when Ralph left and that felt like my heart was being torn out, and put back, only to be ripped out again. Ralph hasn't even seen me cry since that day. I don't even care anymore. There's no reason for me to be strong anymore. I just let myself cry harder and harder until I was starting to hyperventilate.

There was no way I could drink without getting a lung full of wine, so I set the almost new bottle onto the small table beside my chair, letting my face fall into my hands.

I hate to admit it, but crying is feeling so good now. The hole in my heart seemed filled, even if only for a second. The memory of Ralph washing over me, warming me for a few seconds. My eyes started to hurt and my stomach was clenching painfully. This, to me, is rock bottom. I've barely been able to go into work, sober. The only reason I still own the house is because my mother is paying for it.

Was Ralph able to find his mother? Did she welcome him back with open arms? Did he find another person to love? A nice girl maybe. Someone that can give him the child he deserves. I felt empty again, which brought on another set of tears. Even though I want Ralph to be happy, I don't want him to be happy without me. I calmed down enough to pull another swig of wine. The wine was so sweet because it hasn't sat for very long. It might as well be juice, but it's more than enough to get me drunk off my ass.

The only way to take the edge off the pain is to drink until I can't remember. With that thought, I put the bottle to my lips and drank until my lungs screamed from lack of oxygen. I slammed it back onto the table, gasping for air. The bottle was almost done.

I stood up, swaying a little bit, using the arm of my chair to prevent myself from falling flat on my face, and headed for my liquor cabinet. When Ralph was here, we were lucky if we had a bottle of wine for a romantic night. Now, it would make any bar jealous. I leaned against the cupboard, looking blankly at the labels, trying to remember how to read. My literacy went flying out the window. The only reason I knew what I was grabbing was based off label shape. I decided that it was time for something a little stronger, like some whiskey.

The new bottle was completely full. I smiled at my alcoholic friend, tucking it under my arm and carefully making my way back to my chair. The program had changed. This time it was a rather attractive woman showing off an ugly purse to the cameras. I groaned as I flopped back into my chair.

I polished off the wine before unscrewing the top to the whiskey.

Would it help if i turned the sad song on
"All By Myself" would sure hit me hard now that you're gone
Or maybe unfold some old yellow lost love letters
It's gonna hurt bad before it gets better
But I'll never get over you by hidin' this way.

Even after half of the whiskey was gone, probably poisoning my insides, I could still think clearly. Well, clearly enough to still understand how lonely I was and how I was going to remain lonely. I know I won't be able to move on from Ralph. He's the only one I've ever wanted to be with and I was a complete fool. And, even though this break up is completely, one hundred percent my fault, he still apologizes in his letter. He thinks it's his fault that I cheated.

I haven't read his letter in over seven months, the words are becoming forgotten. The bottle of whiskey stayed firmly in my grasp as I stumbled into the kitchen and fell into a chair. There was a small recipe box in the middle of the table. Not a single recipe was in there, mostly because I can't cook, and that's where I stored Ralph's letter. It serves as a reminder to me about what I was stupid enough to let go.

The white paper is starting to yellow, especially around the creases. It's wrinkled and looks so brittle. I unfold it as carefully as I can, my hands shaking constantly. The words still stand out, like a knife to the gut.

Dear Jack, my love,

I am so sorry that I'm leaving you like this. I'm just tired of this routine we've gotten used

to. I know it's never going to end. You'll storm out, mad, make some terrible choices and

I'll be sitting at home, wondering whose arms you're in. It hurts too much. So, I had to

leave. I'm not expecting you to understand, or to even forgive me, but I would really

appreciate it if you wouldn't try and find me. I need some time to think. You have a natural

talent at making me so confused.

I don't even know if I'm coming back. It's too early to tell now. And I'm so sorry to have

written you a letter. You deserve a face-to-face conversation but I'm a coward and I can't

stand up for myself. That's probably why our relationship was so bad. I'm sorry for wasting so

much of your life.

If I don't come back, I love you. With all of my heart. I feel like my soul is being ripped in half.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Love, Ralph.

I put the letter down flat on the table and ran my hands through my hair, biting back more tears. I was failing miserably though. They fell right from my eyes onto the place on the table below the letter, some splashing onto the paper. It felt like a knife to the gut, and some sick sadist was twisting it around and cackling at my pain. I know time's supposed to heal everything, but time isn't helping me out at all. Each day I remember that I'm alone, and that I'm probably never going to find anyone else that can put up with me.

I wish I could forget about Ralph, which is becoming very possible. The bedsheets are starting to lose his smell, along as with whatever clothes he actually left behind. I will be able to go back into our room for more than ten minutes at a time probably by the end of the month. The lonely nights don't trick me anymore with the sounds of Ralph's laugh echoing off the walls. I'm also starting to forget what his voice sounds like. That beautiful voice that lifted my spirits every morning. His smile was becoming a distant memory. I can't even remember if he had dimples, or if his teeth were straight. Or if he even smiled with his teeth showing.

The hardest thing to forget is the feeling of our bodies intertwined. All that heat, the passion, it's almost too much to bear. I take another gulp of whiskey, the poison burning all the way down to my stomach. My mind decided to torture me a little bit with memories of lazy Saturdays and passionate Sundays, along with an 'I love you' every day that ended in 'y'. I never told Ralph how much I loved him enough. He told me every day, even when we were on bad terms. Especially on days when I was pissed off. He reminded me that he loved me.

He deserved to hear how much I love him three times a day, like three square meals, along with a dessert for after supper. I know I never deserved to even be spat on by Ralph, he chose me. And I was idiotic enough to take advantage of that. Another gulp of whiskey helped take the edge off my self-loathing. Not by much, but it was enough to be noticed. I folded the letter back up carefully and placed it gently back in its little case.

By now, I was too drunk to move from my place. I guess tonight I'll be sleeping at the kitchen table. My head fell onto the table, loudly, painfully, and I was too drunk to really care. I stared blankly at the counter tops, trying my best to focus them into one picture instead of three. Those were the same counters where Ralph had made countless meals and where we've made love. There wasn't one place in the house where we haven't had sex, except on the roof.

All of these loving memories filled the house, and all I can remember is waking up alone that day and helplessly searching for my love.

Cause I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I've thought that bein' strong meant 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...

Somehow, I ended up at the pub down my street. I don't even remember how I got here, all I know is I'm sitting at a barstool, fighting myself to stay sitting up straight. A familiar face was behind the bar today. Pete. I haven't seen him since Ralph left me. He looked surprised to see me, "Jack, what the hell are you doing here?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. I came here for some reason." My words slurred together easily, making it hard to understand. The words sounded more like "I dnt kneeew. I cam hur fursumre... resan..."

"How much have you had to drink?" he asked, checking around me for empty glasses.

"T-th... tree buttles uf vine... nd a thingu whiskeh," I replied, after a moments thought.

He looked around again, not exactly believing me. "Where?"

"Hume..."

"Did you and Ralph have another fight?"

Fresh tears sprang into my eyes, "I vish... 'den he'd stilll be vith meh..."

Pete's eyes went wide, "He left you? When?"

I shrugged, "A... a... veer ndu bit..." Pete stayed quiet for a while. "Can... you.. gerv meh sumthan strng?"

He shook his head, "I have to cut you off. You can barely sit up straight."

Tears started falling from my eyes from disappointment. I need something else to get my mind off of Ralph. Tonight I haven't even come close to forgetting about him, in fact, I've probably remembered him more than ever now. Every other time I came here, I would always go home to Ralph, and now, I have nothing to go home to. "P... pwease P-Pete. I-I-I need it..." I begged, falling against the counter, "I need it..."

"I'm sorry Jack, but I can't," Pete apologized, then looked at the other bartender, "Mike, this guy's a friend and I need to take him home. Cover for me?" The guy named Mike nodded and turned back to the young man ordering some beers. Pete walked around the bar and put my arm around his shoulder and hoisted me up. I practically let him carry me out of the bar, my feet not even trying to move on their own.

He dragged me down the sidewalk, the air unusually cold for May. "Whu-What time is it?" I asked, my speech sobering up a bit.

"Past Midnight. Don't you have to work tomorrow? It's only Tuesday."

I nodded weakly. "Only for a few hours though. They're tired of me being drunk at work..."

Pete shook his head, in a disappointed way. "What would Ralph think?" I started to sob uncontrollably, into the side of Pete's neck. There were no words to describe how upset Ralph would have been to how I'm acting, but I can't stop. Without him here, I don't have anything to live for. "Shhh... this is your house right?" Pete didn't sound the least bit remorseful of what he said. I nodded.

He tried to balance me while he opened the door, which I had left unlocked, like the brilliant person I am, and he led me into the house. I gasped at the mess, so did Pete. Apparently, I trashed the place before I went to the pub. "Oh my..." I gasped, trying to see how bad I messed the place up, but my vision is still pretty blurred so it just looked like a streak of colors. Also the house was completely dark, making it harder to see anything.

"What the hell did you do? How did this even happen?" He dropped me onto the armchair in the middle of the room, then looked around for something. My guess would be a light switch. As he walked towards one of the walls, he stepped on something glass and it broke under his weight.

I didn't even want to know what he stepped on, "Please... just leave..."

Pete stopped moving and looked at me. "I'm sorry about everything Jack. Not even you deserve this." With that, he walked out the front door. I looked around once more at the huge mess I managed to create, then I let darkness sweep over me.