August 23, 2019, 02:45:11 PM

Author Topic: Idontwanttobeyouanymore  (Read 209 times)

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Offline Riley Savell

Idontwanttobeyouanymore
« on: December 30, 2018, 11:23:36 AM »
Don't be that way
Fall apart twice a day
I just wish you could feel what you say
Show, never tell
But I know you too well
Got a mood that you wish you could sell

If teardrops could be bottled
There'd be swimming pools filled by models
Told "a tight dress is what makes you a whore"
If "I love you" was a promise
Would you break it, if you're honest
Tell the mirror what you know she's heard before
Idontwannabeyouanymore




Riley’s NYC Home.
Sunday December 30
05:00


Overthinking. It had always been a problem that plagued her, from the smallest and most irrelevant things, all the way up to her approach in the ring. She could never really be sure what would set it off, a look, an off handed comment… She had never really considered if there was any link between these episodes that stole sleep and in some ways, her capability of rational thinking, from her. She just knew they would come, they always did. And that was why she found herself still awake at 5am. Wandering around a house too big for the two people who were currently using it, endless hallways to get lost in, rooms she hadn’t so much as opened in months, just waiting to be her chosen space for solitude; a lie in itself really, as though they could offer any kind of escape from her own mind.

Tonight was different though, maybe it was because she’d been on edge like this since her match on Adrenaline, or maybe it was just the culmination of this one single night, she couldn’t be sure. But for the first time since Cosmo had come to her, in this same house, her hand wrapped around the small bottle. Somewhere down the hall, Cosmo was getting in what little sleep he could before another flight to another show. The worry she would usually feel over such an insane travel schedule was pushed to the back of her mind though; instead of the usual light concern that would rack her brain as she laid beside him, something else had dragged her out of bed to leave him sleeping quietly.

She’d been so careful not to wake him, standing in the doorway for a few seconds to watch him sleep, that same comfort and security she always felt in his presence was still there, tempered and dampened by the others thoughts in her head; that was true. But it was still present and it was why she hesitated, drinking in every tiny detail of him, wrapped up in those blankets, sleeping what she hoped was soundly and letting the night wash away ready to wake up to a new day. And then, she had slipped out of the room, robe tied tightly at her waist to find herself where she stood now.

The feel of that small bottle in her palm pressed her forward, her fingers tightening around it as she took careful step after step down the hall. The great thing about this house was, there was always somewhere to go to be alone with her thoughts. Or, maybe that was the terrible thing about it.

The dull ache in her knee was still there, it hadn’t gotten any worse, but it wasn’t improving and the lack of sleep combined with her refusal to numb herself with pain killers as she had in the past, meant the ache itself had become something she was learning to live with. So, despite wanting to, it wasn’t the pain that she could blame for her current mood. The heavy cloud that seemed to trail around with her since they had left the awards show. She had put on a smile, though he’d probably seen right through that, for the whole ride back. She’d let herself forget, for a little while, that the cloud was creeping in at her edges, losing herself in him.

But the early hours of the morning, or the late ones of the night… Those are the hours when these kinds of thoughts take over. That is the prime hours for an over thinker to drive herself crazy with the kinds of thoughts only Cosmo could ever know she had. And so, she pressed that bottle tighter against her palm, putting as much distance between the room where he slept and the one she chose, creaking open the old door in the quiet night and slipping inside.

So barefoot, she stepped into the room, one of many that hadn’t seen light or life within it in several months, unless it was to dust and clean. Tiptoeing up high on the balls of her feet she moved quickly across the floor, dropping down in a neat little heap upon the rug that kept her bare skin from the cold contact of the floorboards beneath. Slowly, her eyes burning into the spot with a renewed focus; she unfurled her hand around the little white pot. Letting it roll a little across her palm, it looked to unassuming. And yet-

It was the single representation of every doubt she had ever felt, this small, white pot contained all of her secrets and one day… One day she would pull off the lid and let them all tumble out. That was her destiny, to one day give in to the ever nagging, ever constant desire to submit. Reaching up, she placed the pot on the dresser, pulling her phone from her pocket and swiping it to life.

Old messages, some she had stored away for the nights like this that would come. She ran her thumb across the screen; a single, slither of a tear marking the perfectly cleaned and protected glass, trickling down over where her thumb rested as she read back and forth between the messages, ones that felt like they had been sent a lifetime ago. A time before either of them possibly knew what was to come.

You’re not the only person who feels broken and alone and like nothing makes fucking sense. You’re not the only one who no matter how hard they try, it’d not enough because nothing is ever good enough and settling is honestly worse than death... I get it, letting people in, it’s fucking terrifying. Actually feeling anything when just even the tiniest amount of what you’re feeling is so overwhelming it’s like you’re drowning... it’s harder than any match or fall.

But you can’t just choose to do it alone, to lock yourself out from the world I’ve tried, it doesn’t work all that does is make the people who care miss you before you’re even gone.
.

leave me alone and don't try there's no point....

I’m not gonna do that, cause unlike you... I haven’t completely given up on you. I’ll back off, if that’s what you want. But I’m always gonna be here..

I get attached to people and it's not gonna end well so why try?.

Without attachments were nothing, it’s not going to matter how many matches you won, or what titles you held. Not in the end, the legacy we leave behind is the stories other people tell.

People leave. Life hurts. But you can’t just give up.
.

Her eyes lingered there on the screen, trying to let the words beyond it wash over her. But in the back of her mind and right there, just out of the corner of her eye, she could see that bottle. It wasn’t a mocking presence, the bottle itself held no attachment, it had been swapped out over the years, a different drug, a different slumber, but the end game had always been the same.

Tonight, was truly the first night since he had come. She tried to think back to another, but there wasn’t. It was the first night she sat on the floor of a room here, but not really. And had that same old stare down she had night after night for so many years…

“Every day, since my sixteenth birthday, I wake up, look at the clock and wonder if today will be the day it all finally ends. Every night, since that same day, I go to sleep staring down a bottle of pills, not sure if that will be the night they finally win.”.



“But you, talking to you... realizing for even one second that I’m not the only person out there who finds all this so fucking hard, so... questionable at times. It made a difference.”.

She had made that confession to him and only him. No one else in the world could she trust, had she trusted, quite as she had him from the moment he took her hand. People thought she was an idiot, of course… Sometimes when no one else was listening, she thought it too. Falling so hard, so fast, it was the kind of thing teenage girls with crushes scribbled across their notebooks did. Giving yourself entirely to one person and entrusting them with the strength not to break you - it was the kind of gamble she had never believed she would take.

That was what the bottle had been before, it stood for her control. How desperately she gripped the edges and held together. But not tonight, here, in their place there were entirely new fears and anxieties bubbling beneath the surface, she had denied herself for what felt like an eternity and now… She let her thumb drift across the screen once again. A small smile finally tugging at her lips as she looked over another conversation between them.

She wondered if other people did this kind of thing, looked back across things that had been, only to see them with fresh eyes every time. Another tear, or a handful, she wasn’t really counting, trickled down her cheeks, her lips moving with the words as she soundlessly read them aloud, feeling them in her very being, deep down next to her soul.


I keep thinking about our last kiss..

What do you think about when you do?.

How I felt..

And... how did you feel?.

I have just never felt like that before..

Me either..

Really?.

Really.
Remember when I told you, that I kissed Gavin because I just wanted to feel something real?
.

Yes. I'll never forget..

Well, I didn’t know what something real felt like... not until our first and last kiss..

I was intimidated to kiss you.
Because of what you said, why you kissed Gavin.
.

You were worried if we kissed, I wouldn’t feel something real?.

Yeah..

Me too... until we kissed, a small part of me was scared it was just, a jumble of shared emotions, a collective of everything that led us to that point.
But it felt real, not just the kiss... you make me feel something raw and real.
.

I'm so glad you feel that way.
You're never going to feel how you used to again.
Ever.
.

She hadn’t, Not ever; Sometimes these moments felt like parroted ones of the past, but the truth was, it wasn’t the same. How she had felt before, it was desperate and empty… It’s hard to explain the loneliness one feels unless you have lived it, to always be surrounded by people and yet not one of them can see you drowning. That’s what they had been for each other, in the beginning. A life preserver.

And she supposed, in a way he still was. Even now when those doubts crept up and drew her eyes to that white bottle, it was his words that spun around her head to fight them off. It would be easy, wouldn’t it? To just give in to it, to let all of the doubt take over… I just don’t want to hurt him. how many times had she said that line, every time it felt like it was too much; like he was facing too much because it was her hand he chose to hold, she would say that. Or she would wonder why… Or How.

How she could possibly be worth all of this?

Reaching up she pulled the bottle back down, closing her hand tightly around it until the bottle cap bit into the soft flesh of her palm, the base of the bottle jarring against the heel of her hand. She could almost feel as though it were a part of her. It had always been a part of her, but instead of staring the bottle down until sun up, until playing the same game she had played so many times before… She found herself drawing up to her feet, padding out across that empty room.

Blindly, in these early hours, she made her way back to where she had crept from. Hanging close behind the door, palm pressed against it, she heaved a breath, in a way it was as though she could feel him behind that door. And her mind was no quieter, she wasn’t any less afraid. The bottle still rocked in her palm, it’s presence and ever constant reminder of how easy it would be…

But now, it was joined by a few simple words, whispered to her intimately in the back of a car, one cold November afternoon.

“But if you ever feel like that, I don’t care when it is. You come to me, okay? Like I came to you tonight.”.

So she did.



Hands getting cold
Losing feeling is getting old
Was I made from a broken mold?
Hurt, I can't shake
We've made every mistake
Only you know the way that I break

If teardrops could be bottled
There'd be swimming pools filled by models
Told "a tight dress is what makes you a whore"
If "I love you" was a promise
Would you break it, if you're honest
Tell the mirror what you know she's heard before
I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna be you...
Anymore