I didn't know when he stopped, or when I started again.
It was all a big jumble of exstacy, hate, and love.
It was like some sort of drug that made you feel amazing, but instead of after effects, the effects where when you first took it.
It was indescribable.
My mind seemed to fathom when we did end, but since I didn't want it to end, I started up again.
I wanted to feel numb again.
I wanted to feel like what he had put me through was still revelevant, that he had no meaning in my life other than just being there now.
That's all he was.
A person who I fucked, and had a past with.
Nothing more.
And I wanted him to stay that way, but my mind knew I couldn't do that.
He was too much of an important person all around to just regard him as nothing for the rest of my life.
I knew I would break sooner or later, or he would.
He wasn't this way.
He wasn't a weak person.
He didn't just spit his feelings out.
He just wasn't like that.
I did register when we broke apart and rolled over.
I said nothing, and neither did he.
Iron Maiden was still playing.
It was ironically symbolic, beacause we first had sex when maiden was on.
It was the best and worst night of my life.
When he left my room, he left my life.
Didn't come back.
Didn't bother to tell me he was leaving.
He didn't even bother to tell me he loved me after.
I knew it was just all lies.
All fucking lies.
I rolled over and grabbed my sweater.
My stay was too long already.
I walked to the door, and when I turned around, it looked like he was looking at the celing.
I scoffed and slammed his door.
I didn't need him, and he sure as hell didn't need me.
Not now, and hopefully not ever.
I walked into my room and blasted whatever was playing.
The good thing about sharing a room with a person who likes metal is the fact you both blast shit and you don't care.
You just don't.
I walked into the adorning bathroom, locked both doors and started the shower.
I stepped in when the water was just cold enough to make me scream, and shake, and gasp at the cold.
I didn't do any of those things.
I just scrubbed my body down as fast as I could and as hard as I could.
I didn't want any trace of Edward on me or around me, besides what was in his room.
He would have to deal with that shit, not me.
I washed my hair, and stepped out of the shower.
I wrapped my body in a towel, and my hair and walked out of the bathroom into my room.
I quickly dried myself off and put some clean clothes on.
He wasn't on me.
He didn't have any effect over me.
He wasn't important.
He wasn't a part of me.
I dried my hair off and grabbed my book bag.
If I was lucky, I'd be able to catch the last fifteen minutes of the semenar.
But then again, what kind of shape was I in to take less than half of the notes I needed?
I pulled out my blackberry and sent a text to my boss.
I was a bartender at some weird ass college bar, and I made great money.
But my boss was always ticked I didn't want to talk.
Maybe he was in luck today.
Because I felt like talking.
And that talking wasn't necessairly good.
At all.
I got a text back, telling me that coming in an hour early would be great.
I smiled and opened the front door of my house.
I could be doing something.
That something wasn't great.
For me, or for the professor.
But I did it anyways.
This professor liked talking, and since I wasn't a talker, he was okay with the occasional sex.
It wasn't as actually fucked up as it seemed.
Or was it?
I walked to his room, and knocked on the door.
I blushed as I realized he was probably busy doing some other hot piece of ass.
I didn't care either way.
He opened the door, and behind him was his wife.
And then I realized, I wasn't wanted.
I wasn't needed.
And unless I actually had a life, I'd have to go back into my apartment with Edward.
Fuck.