Disclaimer: Don't own nuffin'. Please don't kill me, this is just some really random story I got stuck in my head and needed to get it down on pa- Computer Word Processor.
To say that I could never feel like this, would be a lie. Cause I've felt like this before. Dead inside, nothing to live for, just waiting for death to take me and ease my pain. It was the same feeling last year, and the year before that, and the year before that. But I'll get through it. I always do. Only this year is different. This time instead of staying at home, crying my eyes out and nursing my broken heart, I've decided to contact the cause of all this pain.
Him.
I hate him, and yet I love him. I just cant seem to get rid of him. I wish there was a way to erase him from every memory that I still cling too, trying to make them real again. But I know that can never happen. We can never be together again, he's moved on. Maybe its time I did too.
At least, that's what everyone says I should do. There's not a day goes by without people telling me to "forget him" and "move on". I want to tell them that, "I want too! But I cant!" but all I can do is smile and go on with my business.
Sure they tell me too move on, but when I told them about my plan to go and visit him they all began to say, "you cant!" and "he'll only break your heart….again." They're of course right, but I've never had a rational mind, and I certainly don't like people telling me what to do. So just to annoy them, I got on the next flight out of town, and I now find myself in a cheap hotel only three miles from where he is living, staring at the phone.
Guess I really hadn't thought my plan all the way through. I still had to work up the courage to actually call him. The I realised I would actually have to speak to him. Then I had to work out what I was going to say. And to top it all off…what if She answered the phone.
Oh yes, Her. His new woman, the one he would never stop talking about. I can hear him going on and on right now, but whenever they fell out, it would be me he crawled back to. It would be me that would, every single time, support him. And then he would leave me, to go back to Her. And it hurt me every time. But it was no use thinking about the past. I had to look to the future.
I looked at the empty bottle of wine in front of me, the stained glass placed right next to it. If I was going to call him, I was definitely going to need another glass of wine in me. Pulling myself out of the armchair I had stuffed myself into, I looked up the room-service number. Maybe I would order two bottles of wine. Yes, that would certainly get me drunk enough to call him.
I punched in the number on the phone and waited for someone to pick up.
"Hello-" started the voice on the other end.
"Hi. I'd like two bottles of Bordeaux Wine please."
"I'm sorry, but like, who is this?"
Like? Valley Girl voice? Like-. Kitty Pryde. Oh. My. God.
"I'm sorry, I, I must have dialled d' wrong number." I said quickly slamming the phone down.
How could I have dialled the wrong number? I was looking at the room-service number, and, and………….oh. Guess, I wasn't really thinking about Wine. Maybe I was too busy thinking about a pair of dazzling red and black-.
RING, RING, RING, RING.
………….Got to find a way to block that caller return thing.
RING, RING, RING, RING.
Slowly I reached out and picked up the phone, "Hello?"
"I'm like sorry but, I totally didn't catch who you were. There must have been like a disruption on the line."
"Um, it's uh, I jus, uh." I stammered, well, it was now or never, "I'm phoning for, uh, Remy, Remy LeB-"
"REMY!!!!!!!!!! GIRL!!!!!!!!!! ON THE PHONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Suddenly I had gone temporarily deaf. But I could still hear the conversation on the other end.
"Who's on the phone Kitty?"
"Some girl."
"Fer who?"
"Remy."
"…"
"You wanna like talk to her?"
"No. Tha' would be an invasion of his privacy-Pass the phone here."
I could hear the phone being passed and suddenly I heard the southern voice again, "Hello there. Ya gotta name?"
I cant do this. I cant talk to Her. Luckily I wouldn't have too.
"Chere, you know better than t'take Remy's phone calls." said the smooth voice of Remy.
"Yeah, well, when calls for Remy are from some girl, then ah think ah should be takin' them."
"Dats an invasion o'm'privacy."
"Ah thought there was no more secrets 'tween us anymore?"
"Oui, and dat includes whose on de phone fo' Remy."
I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
"Fahne. Ah'll give three minutes. That's all."
"Whatever ya say chere." The phone was passed yet again, "Bonjour, dis be Remy, who dis?"
I couldn't do this. The speech I had been mentally preparing in my head, disappeared. There was only one thing I could say. It was the reason I was phoning, it was, something that meant a lot to me, and I just wanted to say if it meant anything to him.
"Remy…"
I know he's still there, I can hear him breathing on the other end of the phone. Why isn't he saying anything? Maybe I should hang up?
"Belle?"
"Happy anniversary Remy dahrlin'."
Okay, I know, rubbish story. I just wanted to see if I could get anyone to feel sorry for the 'other woman'. Sorry. Well. Tell me what you think.