ACT ii Scene ii: Hate and Heartache

The hole in my soul is a bullet wound, shot by the love that was doomed from the first night, doomed from the first lie. Told by your lips that caused the first fight. Now I wish that time would just die, be erased from mind, left behind in the days when I was blind so I can find how to be fine.

 

A year made up, held you in my arms as you told me stories as we stayed up. 7am bedtimes never stopped the long lines tears never stopped the long lies. I thought I was wise but I gave it up for a whore in disguise, now all I can do is despise you, my eyes don't recognize you, love you I tried to, it's tough when you're lied too, if your heart breaks then mine too. One day you'll have a look behind you, but I'm never guna come find you, or be beside you, holding you in my arms as only I do.

I do not need to prove that I loved you from the start, by the time that you realise that I did I will have rubbed you off my heart. The scars are tattoos that have your name invisibly written, not with a pen scratched and bitten. The scracthes fade and the bites they heal but the pain is remembered and the blood still spills. The hurt still kills, yeah the strong still feel, 2013 one year that makes me ill.

Act 2 Scene 1 - read it again. Those were the words that should have signified the end. The last time you lied should have been back then, but ever since, you've lied time and time again, and even though I begged you not to you've made my life pretend. Like when you text B**, all the times in the clubs with different men, New Years Eve was a lie kept up to deceive me. A year long joke, and I'll never know what to believe even recently, cos you're still incapable of having common decency. I hope you've kept the receipt for your deceit because I know longer want it. I'll never get any of it, I can only learn. Take all the love I had for you and watch it burn. And just like when you kissed HIM, you can play the victim. But one day you'll remember my name and think how much you miss me, won't ever kiss anybody like you kiss me.

I gave you a chance, and you used it as a gun. And when we used to dance, you never told me I should run. And fuck your sister and fuck your Mum, both of them are cunts both of them are scum. Both of them are dumb. But both of them have won.

I don't doubt that I gave you sleepless nights, and I never wanted to make you cry. I just wanted you to know that when you turned out the lights, in the dark you'd never die. Because I would be beside you even when I wasn't there, and though a love likes ours was destined to die I hate it cos that's not fair. Because I loved you deep and I loved you hard and the passion's strength was rare. And we tried to stay afloat for time but in the end I think we had to sink cos in our heart their was a tear. And to think I'm not going to have your arms wrapped around my waist, or hear your voice or see your face leaves a painful bitter taste. To hear you sing, or to see you smile just one more time's my hope, but the hate and heartache has become our fate and it's too late for us, we broke.

Act II Scene i

I never thought I’d be here again. In the dark using this as a torch so you can see me. See me screaming, see me in pain, see me begging you for help. Back on the street where nothing’s changed, just my age, just the dents on my forehead and the fact that I’m not dead.  I can still feel it and hear it, can’t stand to be near it. The sadness, the lies, the hate, the goodbyes. The shit I knew would never last, the laughs, the broken hearts, the violins playing as I walk past. I’m back here now, are you pleased to see me? I was never gone really.

The new story is a scar, a love story that started at a bar, started with an ‘aren’t you going to introduce me to her?’ – ‘The most beautiful girl I have ever seen’, quoted from the words spoken on the night by a guy whom I like to call me.  Sitting upstairs the inside of me cares what she’s saying, watching her lips move, but also looking into her eyes. This girl is not just for tonight, I have seen perfection and it’s something I like.

Our first kiss we cannot remember, but we can feel that it happened. On the concrete next to the door, no eyes watching only the street lights saw. I knew in the morning my head would be sore, I could feel the whiskey hit me, my bravery made me become risky and we both remember that I asked you to kiss me.

I have thought about you every second of every day since then. I have called you ten out of ten. My best friend. I have called you my girl, my baby, the one who was going to save me. But I have also called you a cunt, a bitch, a slut and a whore, you stabbed me and I fell to floor, the crowd are screaming and they are something I cannot ignore, the count is at 8, can I get to my feet before it’s too late?

I can still hear your heels click as you walk up the path; I can still see you wearing that scarf. I can still see you taking your iPhone in to the bath; I can still hear your Jimmy Carr laugh.

See I heard it again, but I never heard it when you were with them, I’m talking about your ‘friends’. And I never wanted to be that guy, who made you lie and made you cry. But I think it’s time you opened your eyes, contacts in and say goodbye.

I’m not sticking by your side to deal with mugs, who haven’t got your back and give you drugs. I’m not saying that I’m whiter than white, I’ve sinned like the devil but I know what’s right. You may think I’m immature, but really that’s not the case. I’m wise beyond my years; I’ve fought a war with myself before this place. Shed my tears and have gone to waste. I just can’t come across like I’m obviously having to be brave, I have to behave like I’m not about to cave. So if that means seeing a brighter side then I do, people don’t need to see the fighter behind the type-writer, I have nothing and everything to prove.

That night is a nightmare, I can’t bare it. Notting Hill, rotting still in my gut. Just my luck that I gave trust to a slut. So many questions, so many buts.. I can pretend that I don’t give a fuck but I do. I’ve never given a fuck about anything more in my life. It’s vile, and it doesn’t make sense. I mean offence when I say they are disgusting. Sly rats that stick together, a rat that touched you and you let it. That crawled up your body and kissed you. Kissed my lips, held my hips. Then came back the next day for whatever it was he thought he was promised? And after that you couldn’t even bother to be honest. Willing to make my life a lie. I will never even begin to understand why. For as long as I live and I will place a bet, that I’ll never forgive and never forget.

I am shatter proof; my life is the proof that I cannot be destroyed. I can despise, hate, be annoyed. I can cry, bleed, feel cheated from the life I expected and wanted. I am haunted by the past. I can’t let it go because without my ghosts then my head has no company and then time is no fun for me. It’s like I enjoy being sad, because it’s better than being nothing. It’s better than feeling nothing.

Trust to me is like steel, it’s beautiful and real. But when trust like steel begins to rust, it’s becomes dirty and fragile and then must not be trusted. It will snap and break, and if you knew it was rusty and you decided to still build something with it then it’s your fault if you get hurt. Keep your eyes peeled on the stuff you decide to build. 

And I’ve decided to build something with you, and I know we’re rusty, but I need you trust me. You are broken, and I always knew. I said from day one I will try to fix you. Selotape or glue, staples or blue-tac, you will one day be as good as new and maybe what I felt before will come back.

Draw the butterflies on your wrists, don’t cut them in half. Don’t scratch them, don’t let the blood seep from their skin. You can be anything. Your pain hurts me. I will fight your fears. On my cheek I can feel your tears. Your scars are ours.

To be continued…