Please Don't Leave Me
Summary: inspired from the song "Please Don't Leave Me" by Pink (great song, amazing album, Pink is the awesomest).
I hate fighting with B. It seems like we're stuck in this vicious circle of fighting and hurting and it doesn't matter how long the happy period is, somehow we're always able to start a fight over the dumbest shit in the world.
I'm just waiting for the time we'll just get bored from these stupid fights, and that way they'll just stop. I mean, how could we keep on fighting, and never get bored if every fight is just like the fight before?
We get into a shouting match. It feels like we can't get any louder than the last time but somehow we manage to do just that. We yell and curse until one of us leaves the room or kicked out of the house. I can't even count the times I kicked her out of here.
Most of the time one of us just leaves voluntarily cuz we say some pretty mean shit. It doesn't matter that we don't really mean it. Once it's out you can't just take it back and say, "oh sorry, I didn't mean to insult you". We know the blow will hurt, but we won't stop and think for a second how much we're hurting each other.
I don't wanna put all the blame on her cuz I can be pretty fucking mean when I wanna. I'm capable of really anything when I'm pissed and so is she.
And what ticks me the most is that these fucking fights are like some fucked up contest, and the winner is the one who hits the hardest but not with real punches. We try to avoid those. We just go at it till one of us leaves, leaving the other one to cry out how she didn't mean it.
It's just so fucked up. I love her too much to leave her, even though that after every fight I feel like I should leave her for her own sake. I stay.
Sometimes loving her and hating her feels so much like the same thing. I do 'em both with fiery passion. It's just she makes me so crazy, and not always in the good way, and it's only her that makes me act like this.
Even when I act like the nastiest and most obnoxious person I can, I know she'll get me. She knows me; she knows when I say shit like, "fuck off! My life is fucked up enough I don't need you to mess it up even more!" I really mean, "Gimme a couple of hours to cool off and kill some undead ass so when I come home we could have wicked hot make-up sex".
That's why I'm usually the one to go and vent outside cuz I got a tendency to break and throw stuff when I'm angry.
And after every fight I feel like…like I've cut her into pieces, all the lashing and bullshit I say it's just breaks my heart to see her eyes shining with tears, and to know I'm the reason for that pain. I never thought having a conscious would suck this much.
But still every time on my way back home it just hits me all over again. How beautiful my baby is, and how I should tell her that more often. How I can't live without her. She's like my perfect little punching bag and I need her.
I know it's a cliché to say we hurt the one we love the most, and hell I tried to kill B. If that's not love I don't know what the hell it is. So back to point with the whole cliché thing. It's not that we're trying to hurt the ones we love the most, it's just that we feel safe enough to be ourselves around them, and sometimes me being myself is not a pretty picture. But I'm lovable and that's what matters. Relax, I'm kidding.
So where was I? Oh yeah. When I walk through the door the sight of her with tears cascading down her cheeks breaks my heart. I run to her, hold her so close and tight to me it could break a bone or three but fuck it, and whisper in her ear how much I love her. How's she the most beautiful woman on the planet, how much I need her and how sorry I am.
Then she just backs away a little bit, looks into my eyes and says, "Please…please, don't leave me."
And who am I to say no to a beautiful girl…