Tell Me That You Love Me

It’s too much, the pain.

I can’t understand how in the world I got here. Goddamn, this is insanely frustrating.

So here I am, lying in bed, barely having the energy to move, a dull ache in my chest which had made its home there a good while ago.

Now, before I get too carried away in my misery, let me tell you about the wreck that is my life.

It started two years ago, I think.

The idea of me being in love.

Anyway, I remember looking at him for the first time and nearly dropping my jaw to the freaking floor.

There he was, actual perfection, if there was ever any.

From a killer jawline, dark hair to his perfectly-fitted jeans, the man was a sight to behold. It wasn’t until I noticed him looking back that I remembered to close my jaw, surprised and seriously relieved to discover no drool.

I dropped my gaze to the floor, turning red immediately and hoping to just be engulfed by the ground beneath me.

Gaining as much courage as I could fathom, I raised my right eyebrow and slowly tilted my head to peek at that beautiful creature. And there it was again, him looking at me, eyebrows shot up, a dead blank expression on his face, revealing, well.....absolutely nothing.

“Shit, get out of here Molly, you dumb excuse for a person!”. Honestly, it was after I realised how much I had embarrassed myself now, that I remembered that it was almost like a job to let this happen all the time, and strangely enough, I loosened up at that humorous, sad thought, rolled my shoulders, and walked right out of the mall’s door, across from where he stood.

I had come here to buy some blush, but apparently I didn’t need it now, did I? Also, I wasn’t really into makeup anyway.

“Damn, if only makeup could hide your dumbass personality too”,

I thought and headed out, nodding to myself, scoffing.

“Hey, miss!”, a voice came from behind me. Reflexively, I turned, and who would it be, but the man-god himself?

“Whatup?” I yelled, back, instantly cringing as I realised what I just said, which resulted in my mouth hanging in a weird, twisted state.

“Good. Freaking. Job”, I thought.

After looking at me in a clearly confused state, he extended his hand forward, and something shimmered.

“Looks like you dropped an earring, miss”, the man-god said.

“Oh, shoot!”, I cried, as I ran up to him and picked it up, careful to not touch him. That would be the last thing I needed.

“You okay,..? he asked, leaving on a slightly raised pitch.

“Molly, and yes. I’ve just got a lot going on, so sorry about that”

*phew!*

“And you are..?”

“Drake. It’s okay I get it. I’m kind of in a rough place myself”

“Really? A man-god like you? How is that even....”

*No. Just no.*

“Excuse me? A man- what now?”

He said, trying not to smile.

“Oh no no, I didn’t mean that. I mean, you look so great and well I never judge people like that but I don’t know why I said that gosh why am I even talking I’m really, really sorry.”

We both said nothing for a while, just looked at each other for a moment, before bursting into laughter.

“So the pretty lady thinks I’m good-looking, huh?” And before I said anything he said, “I’m only joking, jeez look at your face, it's burning!” and then he smiled that purely sinful smile.

After some small talk, me embarrassing myself some more, and SOMEHOW exchanging numbers, we both left.

So we met up, had a wonderful first date and then met up some more.

It was ridiculously wonderful. Us being in nearby colleges, sharing the same taste in music, movies and pretty much everything was great. It’s amazing how fast time went.

Jump to a year later, and we had moved in together. Still going strong. Honestly though, I had fallen for him very, very hard.

It seemed like the feeling was mutual too. Unbelievable, right?

I didn’t understand why someone amazing like him would ever love me, but I didn’t care at that point. He had become a need, and it was astounding how similar we were, at a pretty fundamental level.

He told me about that day in the mall, later on. About how I looked so innocent and apparently, insanely cute as I straight up gawked at him.

He said he couldn’t take his eyes off me and those earrings, he didn’t know were mine. He just picked them up from the floor and thought that he might as well try his luck, and according to him, he hit the jackpot that day.

Yes, yes, very cringey for an outsider.

Anyway, another year had passed in absolute bliss, when... I woke up in a hospital and well, after a few months, here I was, still in the hospital bed, trying to come to terms with life, the news reporter’s words still ringing in my ears from the television screen in front of me, even after months.

*A 60- year-old woman was reportedly admitted to the hospital after breaking into the house of a 32-year-old local resident, Drake, and calling him her lover. After confrontation, the woman attacked him, after which he called the cops, which resulted in her being shifted to the psychiatric ward of the General Hospital. The woman, identified as Molly Markle, had apparently done this multiple times before, each time donning a different persona and is now undergoing extensive therapy....*

That’s as much as I could hear.

But how?

Why?

It’s okay, I told myself. It’s been months anyway.

I had finally gotten permission to go to the bathroom alone, after so much begging.

As I entered the bathroom, I saw a cracked window.

I was cackling now, and it felt so good.

*Hehehe!*

“Brad, I’m coming home, love!”, I yelled as I threw a small trash can at the window and watched the glass shatter.

I ran to the window, tripped, got up, felt blood dripping down my forehead, and kept on running, smiling, finally free.

*Yes! Brad!*

I felt strong hands grab me by the waist from behind and lifting me up. The voice of my therapist, ordering the man to stop me.

Why?

Because all this time, all I really wanted was to get back to my Michael. My sweet, sweet love, Michael.