Why me?

{A MONTH HAS PASSED}

A month has now passed. Andy and i had been really close, we kissed a couple of times, everything was fine. Until he met her again. Ew. He's now dating that girl named Bree. She was honestly a whore and i hated her, everyone hated her, except of course, Andy.

It was going so well and it just turned down hill from there.

He had constantly been hurting me at night when i hear their moans. I really loved him now. And i couldn't hide that. Andy knew. Everyone knew. Bree constantly did things with him when i was around trying to make me jealous.

I waited. One leg crossed over the other. Arms crossed over my chest. Sat on the edge of my bed in my room. I looked around. The once plain walls that had been filled messily with concert tickets, movie tickets, pictures of me and friends, famous people. And most recently of him. Me and him. Him on his own. Pictures he'd taken of me. All pictures were moments that reminded me of him, that I didn't want to forget. So where better to put those memories than all across my room? Where I would see them every day, remind me of that happy moment. That sweet feeling that came with looking at them all suddenly turned bitter in my stomach.

The tears that had already dried on my cheeks were now being covered in fresh ones. I tried to wipe them away quickly. I knew my eyes would be red and puffy by now. I knew my skin would be blotchy from crying. I couldn't help thinking that I wouldn't want him to see me like this, in this state, usually, but now I did. I wanted him to come in and see the pain he caused. I know he'll come.

The pictures were taunting me. That smile, those eyes, they were everywhere, mocking my hurt. The bitterness turned sour in my stomach and my body lurched off my bed. My hands went to the pictures closest to me. I tore them from the wall, throwing them to the floor, keeping some in my hand just to screw up or rip before they joined the rest. I stomped to my dresser and looked at myself in the mirror. I was right, I looked awful. My lips were swollen and red, and my eyes were still glistening with tears.

I slammed my fist against the dresser and then reached out to knock over a few bottles, like hairspray and perfumes. I turned and ran my hands through my hair, tugging at it and groaned. Still not feeling satisfied, I kicked over my chair, and kicked it again. The sound of my door opening brought me back to reality.

"Hey hey hey Brooke what happened? What's up?" Andy asked.

"You happened!" I cried, spinning and facing him. I knew he'd come. "Where the fuck were you Andy?!" I continued, striding over to him. I stood in front of him and looked up to his face.

"You know-"

"Yeah! I do!" I interrupted. I exhaled deeply and turned around, shaking my head.

"Brooke, talk to me," he said calmly. I felt him stand behind me. When I didn't reply, he lifted his hand up and gently stroked my arm with his fingertips. His touch tingled across my skin but I snapped out of it before I let him affect me completely.

"It's been really hard for me lately" I tell him, my voice wavering, quieter than earlier, but I stay strong. I turn around as I speak and he's looking at me with big eyes and I can't deny I love him. But where was he when I needed him today? That's a silly question, I know where he was.

"I understand. I'm here for you. Brooke, I'm always here for you, i know your dad remarrying this horrid woman is hard on you, and same with having a step brother who is a complete dick" he said.

I scoff. "Well we both know that's a lie straight away."

My breath hitches in my throat and I look down, screwing up my eyes. "You're so good to me" I say quietly after a pause of silence. "But lately you've been distracted."

He lowers his head and tries to look at my face, so I turn away further. "Brooke," he says softly. "Brooke, I hate seeing you like this" he says just as gently, closing the space between our bodies and grabbing my chin between his thumb and forefinger, making me look up. I felt his breath on my face as he stood so close. I saw the pain in his eyes. I knew mine looked just like that.

"So why were you with her?" I whispered, my strong facade was fading. He knew i hated this woman, Bree and i had have an argument which leaded both of us to be in hospital. She was honestly a fucking bitch.

"I-"

"Why did I have to hear from a friend of a friend that you were with her again" (he had dated her before) I didn't allow myself to raise my voice. I wanted him to hear the sheer hurt in my words.

He didn't reply. He gently squeezed my chin and then let go and stepped back. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed deeply, walking to my bed and sitting down. I watched him, but continued standing for a while. We were both just waiting. Finding the words. Trying to think of something to make it better. His deflated body language got to me, the way he sat forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. I padded over to my bed and got on, and sat behind him. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my head on his back. My head rose with his every breath and for another while we didn't move.

I put my hand out and traced a pattern on his back with my finger gently. I fell asleep eventually with a tear stained face hoping everything was a dream. I couldn't bare the thought of him being with her.

I wake up realising it wasn't a dream, i was so upset i needed Ashley, i needed my outlaw friend who i missed deeply.

I tweeted him:

@Brooke_with_closed_eyes: hey @AshleyPurdy i really need you right now please call? x

@Ashleypurdy: i will in a few honey x @Brooke_with_closed_eyes

Moments later he called and i told him about everything, how he was with Bree again, how i was heartbroken, how i needed him, everything. He said he's gonna fly here and everything will be fine. He said he'd come and we can get fat and cry and watch chick flicks and drink until everything was better. Things like these makes me love Ashley more.