I got home so drunk I had trouble keeping my balance, but unfortunately I still wasn't drunk enough to turn my brain off. On the contrary, it actually seemed to be working harder than usual. And as expected, every single thought was about Justin and the new reality - he wanted to marry someone else. And that someone was Scott. What kind of stupid name was that anyway? Well, the name wasn't really the problem. The problem was that this Scott had the fucking audacity to ask my Justin to marry him! And Justin said yes.
Wait, what if it was actually the other way around? What if Justin proposed to Scott? That would somehow make the situation even worse.
But whatever the case was, I just couldn't understand it. I couldn't understand how he could move on so damn easily!
Meanwhile, I haven't spent a single day in those four years without thinking about what he's doing, who he's with, how he's doing, who he's doing, and so on. I mean I'm not stupid, I knew there was a decent chance he could meet someone in New York, but none of that would matter if he ended up coming home to me.
But this? This changed absolutely everything. It meant that he wasn't planning on coming back, but that he was planning to settle down in New York for good... with someone else. And apparently he figured the best way to announce it was to send out invitations to his wedding. What a fucking joke.
I didn't even bother to take my clothes off even though it reeked of alcohol and cigarettes but I just didn't care. I flopped down onto the bed and everything was spinning for a while but thankfully I was lucky enough to pass out.
I didn't wake up until nine in the morning, thankful it was the weekend, with a terrible hangover and an annoyingly dry mouth. But none of that compared to the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach—this was the first morning in four years that I knew for sure that Justin was never coming back. And suddenly I missed him more than I had in the entire four years, I felt like it might actually kill me.
"Good morning."
"Jesus fucking Christ!" I have never jumped out of bed so quickly in my life. I then turned to look at the psychopath who had obviously gone completely insane. "What the actual fuck are you doing in my bed, Michael?!" I stared at him in complete disbelief.
"Mom thought you shouldn't be alone."
I was speechless, literally speechless. "So you figured it would be best to just break into my apartment?" I glared at him, as angry as I could be.
"You gave me a key, remember?"
"Yeah! That key is for emergencies!"
"Well, I'd say this qualifies as an emergency, don't you think?"
"I've never seen anyone crazier in my life… actually no, I take that back – your mother is way crazier," I rolled my eyes.
Not only did the love of my life want to marry someone else and forget about me once and for all, but my family turned out to be full of psychopaths... though why was that even surprising?
"Hey, be glad I'm here, who else would make you breakfast?"
"In that case, hurry the fuck up because I'm hungry."
"Gee, you are such sunshine this morning," he said as sarcastically as possible.
But I immediately clenched my jaw so hard I was afraid my teeth would fall out.
"Shit, sorry," Michael realized his mistake.
"The breakfast?" I arched my brows, avoiding the subject 'sunshine' at all costs.
"Yeah, sure, I'll get right to it," he replied with fake enthusiasm and headed straight to the kitchen.
And while Michael was destroying my kitchen, my mind was completely focused on my mailbox. Just the thought that the envelope could be there scared me to death. Knowing that he would want me to witness him giving his heart to another man would be not only evil but devastating to me.
But the naive and pathetic part of me was actually hoping he'd invited me. It would mean I still meant something to him. Maybe even that he himself was hoping that I would change his mind and remind him how much he still loved me and that I was the only one he wanted to be with. It would mean there was still something to fight for. That there was hope.
But if that white envelope wasn't there waiting for me, then I would know for sure that his love for me was already gone. That I lost him for good. And even though the not knowing was driving me insane, I still wasn't ready to find out. No matter how pathetic it sounded.
"Bon appetit!" Michael said as he placed a plate in front of me looking very proud even though it was just scrambled eggs and bacon.
"Thanks," I forced myself to smile.
And even though I was really hungry, my stomach wasn't exactly cooperating, so after just a few bites I knew that if I ate any more, I was probably going to throw up. Of course I could feel Michael's concerned look, but I did my best to ignore it. Well, not that it was hard considering I was once again lost in my thoughts.
God, why couldn't I just let it go? Why couldn't I just stop loving him and wanting him? Back then it was so easy for me to turn off my feelings... but then he came along and screwed up everything I believed in. He did this to me. He made me fall in love with him even though I resisted and that I resisted hard. And when I finally embraced how I felt about him, he fucking left. Yeah, I know, I pushed him to go. It was for his own good as well as mine because I didn't want him to end up hating me for ruining his dreams. But I thought he would be back when the time was right. This? I didn't expect this. Not in a million years.
"Brian?"
"Yeah?" I looked at him and immediately knew I wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "What is it?"
"I just… did he invite you too?"
I was really hoping this question wouldn't come up. I really was. Because I honestly didn't know what to say to him. How to explain to him that I was scared shitless to go look into my own mailbox because I was afraid I wouldn't find the envelope there. Although I knew how weird it would be to actually find it there. Just knowing that Justin somehow mustered up the courage to send me an invite to his own wedding knowing it would kill me.
But despite that, the white envelope represented some kind of hope that Justin wanted to see me, because maybe deep down he knew that this Scott wasn't what he really wanted, but that it was me.
"I don't know," I admitted. What would be the point of lying anyway?
"What do you mean?" he furrowed his brows in confusion.
"Because I haven't had the guts to go look yet..."
"Brian-"
"I know, I know, I'm pathetic, save your breath."
"You're scared and that's okay. It means you're human and you have feelings. You don't have to hide it from me, you know that."
I couldn't even look him in the eye, I felt so... vulnerable. And I fucking hated it.
"Listen to me, Brian. Are you listening?"
"Yeah, I'm fucking listening," I rolled my eyes.
"You've already wasted enough time waiting for him. Don't waste any more and go check that damn mailbox… or it'll eat you alive."
As much as I hated it, he was right. I was only hurting myself by avoiding it. So without any further delay I got up, grabbed my keys and went to do what was necessary. My knees almost gave out, but I didn't stop until I was standing right there. And I instantly wished I had x-ray vision, but unfortunately it only worked that way in the comics. So I took a deep breath and used the damn key. I swear I could hear my heart pounding out of my chest and when the mailbox finally opened I immediately grabbed the pile of mail—a really fucking big pile—and eagerly started going through it only to find that none of the envelopes were what I was hoping for and I immediately felt a sharp pain in my chest as my heart shattered.