YOU MADE A SLOW DISASTER OUT OF ME
just because he doesnât know how to say it doesnât mean he doesnât feel it. he feels it in a way heâs never felt before. it makes him nauseous. it makes his world tilt. everything is just out of focus, just off center. he doesnât know if this is a warning or a sign.
he just canât say it. it curls in his throat but he chokes on it. forces it back down. trembles. heâs never meant it like this before.
this has always been his problem. he canât follow through. heâs never finished anything heâs ever started and this probably wonât be the exception heâs hoping for. he could cut and run tomorrow even if it meant leaving his heart behind. he could be that cruel, he could be that weak.
he could both love her and hurt her the most.
âhelp me,â he wants to plead. but he could never do that to her. let her carry the weight of them both. not when he always managed to shatter everyone around him with the slightest touch. everything was so fragile and heâd never been the delicate type. heâd never expected that sheâd be the one to make him fall apart. in his head it always seemed to be the other way round. he was forever the one to leave things in ruins. but here he was, undone. completely, utterly, unequivocally. done.
THE BOY WHO BLOCKED HIS OWN SHOT
'i'm just going to let you down.'
he had slurred it at her that first night in the bar, barely acquaintances but also barely strangers, but how could anyone have taken him seriously when he was smiling at her like that. she probably hadn't even heard him, it was offhand, as if he hadn't even really intended for it to be heard at all. it was a misfired warning, a selfish attempt to redirect the blame when eventually it all went wrong because, well, he told her so, didn't he?
the second time he says it he really means it. he almost pleads it to her because he's too far gone to remove himself from the situation but if he can convince her to leave him then they just might avoid certain catastrophe. but she won't and for the life of him he can't figure out why because people have always walked away from him like it was just that easy and what is so different this time round that makes her want to stay? it confuses him and he spirals deeper, somewhere between hope and guilt, and all he can think about is how much he really doesn't fucking deserve her.
the third time he doesn't say it, doesn't have to, because he's just gone and done it and now there is nothing they can do.
CALL ME A SAFE BET I'M BETTING I'M NOT
in the long list of stupid things he's done this is by far the stupidest. his sister tells him so when she catches him sitting on their back step with a bent photograph of her in his hand. is he actually that fed up with himself that he can't accept the one thing that makes him better? it's a slap in the face that libby can see it. he's put a whole continent between them and still his little sister can see the whole story written across his own hopeless face.
and now the realisation that he'd screwed up again was coming far too late. like always. she was there and he was here and there was probably miles of hurt and betrayal between them now. and what could he do? not very long ago he would have done nothing. he would have stayed there frozen on that cold step and felt sorry for himself about yet another mess he'd managed to create and that would have been it. never had he had the drive to do anything more. he'd fucked up, simple as that, and he would hide until the dust settled. but he couldn't do it this time. his heart was thumping too loudly and the blood was roaring in his ears and he couldn't quite seem to catch his breath and was this really what love felt like? because right now it felt a lot like panic. a panic that was pushing him not to lose something that shouldn't have been his in the first place but had somehow been given to him as if it was a gift. which in every way possible, it was.
he mailed her a plane ticket the next day. grand gestures weren't his thing but he thought maybe she would understand this one.
