Bad night

I was angry today. My face was flushed and teased my anxious tears while I was forced to face it in front of all the needy customers at my job. I just wanted them to go away, and I wanted him to notice me. I know that he does when he can, but I am like my customers-needy.
He likes to drink. I hate it. I love him. He wants to get drunk to night-fine. I’ll hate him for it. I work all day with a smile. That’s how anger builds. When you can’t just let it go, and on top of that you have to act like you are the polar opposite- happy. I’ll let it go. He was mad at me, even though he says is was not. He is still. Angry, upset, worried. I laid in my bed for hours waiting for his text, and hoping that it would never come. I won’t answer is what I tell myself. Promise. Three hours go by while I stare at my phone waiting for the bright blue reflection to bounce off the inside of my sheets. I listen to the small ear buds that whisper all that I can hope from love, what whisper everything that I think is written for me. Of all the pressure that we put on her, seems we’ve lost her for good. She’ll never walk on water because no one really saw her. I just wanted to know what I was doing wrong. Why was I not good enough for him? He wants to go and be with his friends. They are everything that I could never be. I do not believe in what they do. They beg to lose control. I want all the control I can get.
LETS
GET
DRUNK…
His friends tell him that it is okay, and I cannot speak because I drown in my own fears, that he will leave me. Don’t leave. Please. Just go. Don’t be dumb. He does not care. The vibrations carry me away from thoughts of what I did wrong, what he will do wrong. My eyes stare at the blue light. I put on a face of resentment but it’s all that I wanted. My heart still jumped to know he was still thinking of me.
Dan: How was work gorgeous?
I did not respond. I waited for him to stop caring. To test him. I really don’t know why I waited. I did. I was cold and I wanted him to warm me, like he always did. I rubbed my calves and feet together while I was in the fetal position tangled in the sheets hoping that the friction could mimic his love. I’ll wait. I won’t text him. Promise?

Me: Fine.
Dan: Did you just get off?
Me: No like three hours ago.
Dan: Oh did you go out with your dad? Haha
Me: No he doesn’t have time.
Dan: Oh ic. What are you up to?
Me: Nothing.
Dan: Oh well do you have time to come and see me?
Me: I don’t want to bother you with your friends. It’s fine.
Dan: No one is here, please, just come over.
Me: I hope you have a good time. I know that’s what you really want.
I knew that was nothing he really wanted, but at the same time he wished he wanted it. I leave after this. I will run. I hate myself for ignoring him after that. My feet collided with the cold floor and I plopped down to lace my shoes. It was dark and cold, but I just wanted to leave.
I expected him to be there before I left. He wasn’t. I ran. I ran thinking that he would never be able to see me. Twenty minutes passed and I was moving down Douglas and saw his car. Move! Go faster. I can’t see him. I’ll turn. That’s what I will do. My feet lose control. Drunk. I have less now I am vulnerable. Down the Avenue. He is there again. I turn. He knows that I saw him. I hate myself. I have to go back eventually. I do. He is driving there and we see one another. I run. I can’t see him. Tears stream down my face and I give up. I fall. I lay on the soccer field sprawled out-crying.
I walk back. He stops me.
I don’t want to get in the car. No more talking. I hate you more with every word. I want you to just hold me.
He takes me to the car. I tell him that I hate him for drinking. That I can’t watch him lose control. I can’t. He promises that he will not, but he will not blame himself. It is me. I should of told him is what he told me. Speak? I won’t. He just gets angry.
He brings me in closer to convince me that it is okay. My body trembles at his touch.
Comatose.