Shaking, I felt for a moment, I was back in my late twenties body, and Samantha was sitting in front of me, in a hotel bed we used to fall asleep together in, and talk about everything and she used to get so nervous when she spoke, which made me nervous, and we drank oursevles to semi confidence until we couldn’t speak any longer. She was holding my hand, holding my hand like she holds Patrick’s now, and she had this young innocent smile, that made me feel like nothing in the world could break me, and that with her I was invicable, because that’s just how she looked at me, it didn’t matter if I was crying my eyes out, leaning on her shoulder, she never thought I’d lose it like I have lost it now. Samantha is dressed in this black tight tank top, that said “Pete Wentz” in a simple font, right across the front, big and bold, her eyes held this hopeful look, you could tell the world hadn’t broken her yet. “Do you love me?” She looks straight at me, and I am breathless, but not in control of my own body, and old me is speaking, the me without a broken heart.

“C’mon, you know me.” I laugh, and I can’t help but notice this time around the broken glance on her face, the fear of rejection in her eyes, the fact the cocky me won’t tell her that I love her makes me sick. Her lips are tightly pressed against each other, and me now, wants to hold her tightly, hold her in fear that I won’t get to say I love her again and her believe it. Getting up, she takes a sip of vodka, it doesn’t even burn as it goes down her throat, drinking it like water, she was a crazy one, nobody could deny that. Placing her hand on my face, I swear my chest is beating out of my chest, as I taste the alcohol on her breath, her beautiful lips are centimeters away from mine, and I feel insane, insanely lucky, this all reminded me of memories that felt like fading memories. What I wouldn’t give to have her back, I need her back, she was meant to be mine. “I don’t” she speaks quietly, “I don’t” tears seem to fill her eyes, glazing the outside of her eyes, and I think I’m going to kill myself, I’m such a fucking fool.

“I do.” I clasp her soft hand off my face, and she smiles through her tears, and niave me think’s it’s all alright, and I smile, and she hugs me tightly, she hugs me like I hug her, like I’m the only thing in the world that matters, and I feel the world crashing down around me, all I can think of is that I miss her. Waking up in a cold sweat, I stare mindlessly at the cieling, I don’t want to think and I can’t think, I sit up, and I remember I’m sleeping at Samantha’s, and Patrick is on business and I remember that flashback, that dream of a flashback.

Sitting up, I walk down the hall into Samantha’s room, and she’s sleeping, like the angel she is, haven’t aged a fucking day, not like I have. Certainly I didn’t grow up, I just pretended, none of us grow up, we just learn to pretend. Placing my hand on her waist, as she sleeps, I breathe in quietly, and tears are welling up in my eyes, and it’s one of those seconds where I don’t think I can make it out. “I love you Samantha, I don’t know why I haven’t told you this before.”

Moaning softly I hear that damn moan and feel myself get light headed, I can’t calm myself down. Getting down on my knees, I smile at her, and kiss her lips awake, and walk away, before she can say a word to me.

White sheets covered the bed and for that still, completely blissful moment, I felt like I was in heaven, it smelled faintly of strawberries, and I had no idea where I was, but Stephanie was snuggled into my chest, grabbing my hair softly. Breathing in quietly, I was determined not to wake my baby up, I had no idea how she got here, because I could only remember falling asleep in Pete’s attic, and now I was in a bed somewhere with my baby, had I gone psychomom? Did I drive myself home as drunk as I was? That just seems insane, and that couldn’t be, this room didn’t look like any place I had ever seen, Stephanie started squirming around, and her little mohawk Patrick and I gave her was tickling my chin. “Baby, Baby.” I whispered, softly, in a sort of humming sound like I was singing.

“Samantha.” I heard Pete’s voice, his thick, deep voice, rough, disgusting, breaking the heaven like state. Clutching Stephanie agaisnt my chest, I smiled to see sleeping Patrick next to me, and I knew from that moment I was at Pete’s house, but I had not slept with him, or even been near him most of the night. Standing in the doorway, he had this smirk on his face, and I stood up, holding Stephanie closer into my chest, until I suddenly realized that I was standing in front of Pete, topless, holding my baby. Giving him this glance that could break the spirit of any guy in the world, he still smiled, he didn’t care, Pete was a man who didn’t care what I did to him. Placing Stephanie down, I grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it tightly against my chest. “Wentz.” I looked over to him.

though

“Let’s talk babe.” He put his hands around my waist, and gave me this beautiful smile, as I moaned softly, I could feel a hangover coming on, my throat burned, what happened to being a heavy driner in my twenties? Getting old is bullshit, I shook my head, sitting at Pete’s counter, gazing at me, like I was still some sort of young, beautiful princess, he laughed “I remember when you used to be able to drink a bottle of vodka and wake up the next day ready to go, I remember you passing out on the dance floors, and puking in public bathrooms, I never remember…” He stumbled upon his words, chuking me a gatorade.

“Never again Pete, we’ve been over this millions of time baby, millions. We’re over.” Tears glazed my eyes as I tried to speak in a calm, brave voice, I couldn’t contain myself for these uncomfortable moments. “Fuck, Pete I know how you feel, and I feel awful, I blame myself for this because I did this to you, I left you because I thought you were perfect, you were young and stupid and so was I. See I would love to come and tell you to live with me, I would love to wake up next to you Pete, but I have Patrick now, I have a daughter, I can’t risk it for you, I really really love you, but I can’t risk it.”

“I have nothing.” He stared me right in the eyes. “Listen to me Samantha, I have nothing, Ashlee, I never even loved her, she was all that I had she was all I ever had. For that moment I held Bronx in my arms, and I saw Ashlee smiling at me, I felt like I had a family, I felt so needed. No one needs me anymore, my son, my own son, is being brainwashed to hate me! I haven’t even seen him in months, this is a big deal for me, and you, you have everything I’ve ever wanted.” I looked straight into his eyes, even though what he was saying caused me tremendous pain, my heart sinking deeper into my chest. “Patrick, you wake up to a man who truely, truely loves you every morning, he doesn’t cheat, he doesn’t cheat with one of your friends, he has a baby with you. God, I never saw a better man in my life, and for some reason I think that you could give me that.”

Biting my lip, as hard as I could, my black curls fell in front of my eyes, “Pete. Come over here, let me hold you.” I stared over to him, and he walked over to me, wrapping his hands around my waist, leaning into my shoulder, I swore I felt his teeth sink into me a little bit. Tiny little sobs, I could hear as I rubbed his back and he started talking in a whispering, nervous, geniunely scared voice. “I, Samantha, I’m so- I’m so scared that I’m never going to do anything, I’m almost forty, forty years old, and no woman loves me.”

“It’s okay, it’s really okay.” I placed my hands on his “Gabe is not a synonym for Shitty” tee-shirt, “Somebody is going to love you, and Pete, you can come live with Patrick and I, if you want to, because I want you to.” Smiling, this grateful, perfect, million dollar, signature Pete Wentz smile, and I gave him a terrible “grrr” face, and he did it back to me, and on the inside for the first time in the longest time in my life, I fangirled a small ammount just in my head. Walking back into Pete’s guest room, I sat back in bed next to Patrick, and placed my hand on his chest.

Cigarette smoke filled my lungs as I stared up at the basement ceiling, nothing was clear, it had wire and parts of the ceiling falling down, it was unkempt and horrid, just like life I suppose. Smokes, I smiled, the dreaded cancer sticks that misfits like me lived off of for years, it was such a mystery why I still smiled, I wasn’t in any mood to, but the terrible thing crept across my face. Breathing as softly as possible, I made it sure that no one could hear me, I made it sure “he” didn’t hear me, because if he did, I would be as dead as the dreams of an elementary school art teacher. Settling my hands by my sides I could sense some one walking down the stairs, I wasn’t entirely sure who, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “Leslie?” I heard a young woman’s voice, a seductive, smooth voice, only one woman came to mind.

“Stacy?” I whispered back in my slow, quiet tone, that even some one inches away from me would have trouble hearing. Taking my vision away from the smoke, I turned to her, and she smiled, her warm, sexy smiles, Marilyn Monroe almost. Only Stacy would have that insane ability to hear every single thing you uttered under your breath, she was like a mother of a sassy mouth child. “Yes, it’s me.” she spoke, coming and sitting down on the mattress next to me.

My usually reverence toward Stacy disappeared, as I gazed into her eyes, as if they were daggers, remembering everything that went on when she left me. Gulping, I tried to find the right words, but she just smirked, running her finger down my chest, like she was tracing it, making my nerves over conscious. Stacy was a tease, her light, light, bleach blonde hair, was in tight curls, that went right above her breasts, and her smile felt so bittersweet as she sat, glancing down at me. “You’re still so innocent.” this smile graced her blood stained lips, “Such an innocent soul.”

Beginning to undo the top of my shirt she continued to smile as I laid, shaking, unable to speak a word. My throat felt dry, unbelievably dry, like I would never speak again, and my skin had goosebumps covering it, she had me under a spell, the kind that kept me from moving. It wasn’t that I didn’t love Stacy, but she just wanted me all to herself, she just wanted to devour me. “Stace,” I glance up to her with hopeless eyes. “After all you put me through, this?” I shook my head, tears glazing my eyes as I bit my lip, gazing in this unbelievable sadness.

I’m giving away 4 autographed polaroids from one of my photoshoots with Diane Gaughan! I will choose four winners to each receive one.

To enter, comment on your favorite polaroid and make sure you add my Twitter and Diane’s Tumblr!

Winners will be chosen on May 5th! Good luck!

P.S ANYONE CAN ENTER!

Buzzing filled my room over the sound of “She’s Like Heroin” by System Of The Down that played it’s repetitive beats as my eyes flickered open. No, the only word that registered in my brain was, no, I am not waking up, I am not here, this is the end. I’m done I quit. Sadly, the simple act of thinking something does nothing, well not unless you can control minds, god if I could do that. The stiff sheets I laid in kept me from moving an inch, as uncomfortable as it was, nothing was more uncomfortable then getting out of bed, reality, what’s that? Moments of content were only truly existent when I was just awakening, other then that it was keeping myself in check. Sitting up in bed, for a total of five seconds I gazed over to the window, where the buzzing noise was loudest. Opening up my apartment window, I gazed out at the river in front of the old apartment that have been here as long as anyone can remember.

“Mmm” I moan quietly, my fire engine red curls fly back, and suddenly re-settle resting on my shoulders. The gentle breeze almost freezes my skin right there, like sheets of ice over my organs. Pressing my finger gently on my eye, I look back down to my finger;it was covered in black, forgot to take off my damn eyeliner again. Being immortal doesn’t make you much smarter does it, a smile creeps across my lips, and I leave the window, to go make myself breakfast.

Starting the coffee maker, I leave my mug underneath and fold my arms together, leaning back on the counter behind me. Glancing out at my living room area I bit my lip, I need to clean this up, but why in the hell would I do that? Smirking, I pick up several of the random tee shirts, and pants everywhere, I feel like a ten year old cleaning my room. My hair is unbelievably nice looking today, no frizz, completely almost gelled looking, while still in curls and bright red as I dyed it days ago. “She’s Like Heroin” fades out and I heard the beginning of “Violent Pornography” and I feel like a psychopath, glancing around trying to find something to tell me the time. Deciding it’s hopeless, I check my coffee, which still isn’t even dripping yet, so I slip off my black slip that I had on, and head into the shower.

Somethings haven’t seemed to change, maybe everything is changing because I’m never going to die, or at least from what I know. I can’t die, I glance over to the razor, and attempt to try to cut my hand again, like a did last night, “accidentally”. No blood, nothing just a simple line on my hand that quickly fades away, how did this even happen? The water drains down my thoughts and I’m mindlessly humming along to some song that happened to slip my mind.

The water came to a stop and I held myself in a towel for less then a minute then put myself in a black silky robe. Covering my head in hair products, I combed it out, it going from straight to wavy as hell, the red was darker now, I enjoyed this look. My eyeliner kept running down my face, wiping it away quickly. Psychical appearances were nearly everything for working for a record company, sitting in the front as a “secretary”, which was basically looking pretty, and everyone told me that. The room was filled with the distinct aroma of coffee, and I walked out of the room to the kitchen, where my mug was finally filled. French vanilla creamer, some vanilla ice cream, and sugar filled my glass now, sipping it I smiled. This was something worth living forever on. What was I going to do forever? I looked around, biting my lip, it was nerve racking, but I decided to keep it out of my mind.

Squeezing myself into a black pencil skirt, a white dress shirt and a black vest, that accented my chest even more then a hooker would approve of. Dark tights, and triangle pointed shoes, aren’t I such a classy business woman? I laugh, blow drying my hair, curling it quickly, fixing it with hat gel and hair spray, making my side bang fall gently over my eyes, I drive in business I need to look nice.

Fuck you xxx
Mindlessly staring at the locker, my combination had completely slipped my mind, whenever I was outside of school for more then five seconds it was out of my mind. Eighteen years old and I had graduated less then an hours ago, and I was standing in the hallway, fumbling around on a lock because Ray had to act like an asshole. My black dress was gripping tightly against my skin, I was probably the only person here without the intention to go out and get laid tonight, all I wanted was a good nights sleep and a sleepover with the boys. Ray, cleverly slipped my preset into my locker and I felt like murdering him that he made me go back to the hallway, he knew I hated school why did he make me do this? Hearing someone walk up behind me a chill went through my spine, I could feel the tension of a hand on my back, and I bit my lip. “It’s just me.” I heard Mikey’s voice, softly and awkwardly, “Jack, calm yourself, let me try the lock”

Mikey pushed me against the locker, and pushed me aside, but still holding me between his arms, him and Ray, both of them thought they owned me. Doing the lock I was held against Mikey’s chest as he kicked the locker and it magically opened, he took it as a victory and kissed the side of my neck. “Oh yeah.” He smirked, placing his hands on my sides “So, what’s in the envelope?” he asked, furrowing his brows, his glasses almost falling off as he looked down through them, right on his nose as always.

“Don’t know.” I quietly sighed, a small smile crept across my face, sometimes it was nice to just relax and let Mikey hold me for a moment. Fiddling with the package for a moment, five tickets for a Fall Out Boy show slipped out of the card, along with a debt card, access to Ray’s bank account. Finally, I got some trust around here, I got that sensation that you get when you start doing things alone. I felt like a grown up, for this one time in my life. Mikey tucked my long curled black hair behind my ear and looked at the tickets “Front row? Is your brother spending money on front row tickets and he still hasn’t bought me a unicorn?”

Smiling I kissed Mikey on the cheek “Relax babes, when I’m rich and famous I’ll buy you all the unicorns you could ever dream of.” Mikey smiled, which was such a rare thing for him to do, as cliché as it sounds, his smile lit up the room. Shoving him lightly, I pulled on his red tie and smoothed down his brown choppy hair, he looked like a lesbian, I chuckled to myself. Mikey held such a swagger when we were alone, around his brother though, it was a different story. Speaking of the devil, Gerard stomped down the hallway striking a diva pose, his hand on his hip, staring at his brother who was laughing, looking down at me, holding his blazer in his hand rocking back and forth on his heels. “Mikey, let’s go back to Ray’s, Jackie that means you too.” he glared at me, he pierced daggers into us, basically brain washing us to the car.

As we walked down the hallways I could feel the hangover on Gerard, I couldn’t help but want to stop him from drinking so much, but it wasn’t my place to speak. Stumbling down the hallways, Gerard drank a questionable liquid from a “coke can” as his slurred words conveyed. Jabbing Mikey slightly in the arm he looked down at me sadly, with an “I’m sorry I can’t do anything about this” look on his face. Personally, I could related to Mikey my parents had gotten divorced years ago too, and it wasn’t an easy thing to do, though I assumed a twenty two year old could handle it. “Sorry.” Mikey whispered under his breath, that breath was filled with genuine concern, and it made my head hurt.

Feeling my hand into his, his fingers clenched mine, holding his had was one of the only things that made like worth meaning right now. It felt like I had someone that was with me for the rest of my life, even if this was just a silly high school romance, it felt like so much more. “Hey, Michael, you faggot, what are you doing holding Jack’s hand.” Some kid laughed, younger then us, shouldn’t be picking on us, but who the fuck makes up these rules anyway. He had rips down the sides of his loose cut off faded blue jeans and he wore a misfits hoodie, his hair was accented with a red side, a slight black Mohawk and white on the other. He was chewing on his lip ring, and leaning against the wall as if he owned it.

My green eyes burned into him, as if it could burn him like his words did to Mikey. Gerard took it one step ahead of me, and threw the coke to the ground, walking over to the kid. “Think your tough?” Gerard leaned over him, gripping the kid’s sweatshirt, holding him against the wall. Slowly shaking his head he laughed, I could only imagine it being a nervous one because I could imagine myself trembling at Gerard’s grasp. Gerard smirked at the kids bold move and leaned into him, rage filled his eyes “DON’T EVER-” he began to speak, but his lips got lost in the kid’s and they were kissing against the wall. It was like a train wreck I couldn’t stop staring at them, Gerard had his tongue almost down this kid’s throat like a tongue blow job, and the kid was moaning, obviously into it. “Who’s the fag now?” Gerard sneered at him, walking down the hall out the door like the sass queen he was.

Right as we were going to leave, the kid runs up behind Gerard, “Don’t leave me so turned on, I’m sorry I’m Frank.” he stutters along, his confidence has magically disappeared. Gerard simply shakes his head and we continue out the door, I can’t help but feel sorry for the kid, what a change of heart for me. The memory of Frank begging Gerard to go kiss, him or maybe even do more with him, fills my mind as I stare blankly out Ray’s van’s window. “You alright?” Bob punches my arm. “It’s like your a zombie, by the way, we should watch Dawn of the Dead tonight, 78’ version”

“Mmmhhh?” I glance over to him, I had only been paying half attention, as I rub my arm where Bob has punched he doesn’t realize his own strength. “Oh yeah, tonight, forgot about that, Ray can we get Italian food?” I asked, trying to engage into conversation instead of sitting around like a brainless human. “Of course Princess” Ray chimes, as I beam back at him, little acts of kindness go a long way for me, and even if Ray is my step brother, he feels like a real one, we connect in ways biological ones do. Being raised by a single mother and having no siblings can cause you to want to be around people constantly, which is something Ray and our friends are sweet about doing.

“Ray are you sure you’re okay with me sleeping over? With Jack and I dating and all.” Mikey nervously asks Ray, as if I am his daughter placing my hand on Mikey’s thigh, I look into his eyes and shake my head slowly. Mikey adjusts to the situation and starts acting anti-social and sitting around, his mouth in a tight poker face. That eery silence fills the car until Gerard opens his big mouth and smiles to Mikey. “If you want to fuck a girl, do it, don’t ask her brother.”

Ray begins to uncomfortably laugh, as you would to a little child that made a not so funny joke. Ray’s hair is almost hypnotizing me, as I stare at my step brother in awe, that he can take stuff like that. Feeling awkward as it seems to get I place my feet under my seat and look down till the car ride is over. Gerard knows how to make everyone shut up, an awkward silence to keep anyone from bringing the divorce up, not that anyone would dare to talk about it with some one like Gerard. “Don’t be angry with him.” Mikey whispers, not looking at me, trying to mend his brothers comment. His hand rested on my thigh until we got back to Ray’s and my apartment.

“Here we are home sweet home.” Ray smiled “With my sister, do I see any plans of this just being “Ray’s” apartment?” he jabbed my side. Though I understood it was just a joke, it seemed to feel like there was an underlying truth to it. He wanted to live alone with Christa and I could respect that, but where else was I suppose to go? Mustering a smile on my face I delicately walked on my red high heels I was afraid of breaking the heel of, I was finally at the building. “Any mail?” I ask, staring at the older woman at the counter in front of the mailboxes.

“A lot of it” she smiles, that “I’m glad some one talked to me” smile and she handed me several cards and I smiled, looking at through the random cards I was getting some artistic acquaintances I had. Lindsey Way, I smiled one of my favorite people in the world, her and her girlfriend Jessicka Addams. They were such a successful couple, they lived in their own apartment in New York, art galleries recording, when I used to visit constantly during the divorce they gave me everything I could possibly need. Anyways, I was looking forward to getting my cards and I felt for Mikey that he wasn’t going to get much attention at home, hell he could be kicked out like Gerard was.

As Bob chased Ray up the stairs, Gerard leaned onto Mikey and I walked alone up the stairs. Who could I blame for that? That’s what I get for hanging out with a bunch of guys, “bros before hoes”

When you’ve been separated from reality for this long, dealing with people becomes a complete nightmare. I purposely left, so I’d never have to see people again, I wanted to be away from the world. My little house in the woods, was my escape from the world, it felt like I was living in another planet, I never knew what was going on and I didn’t care what was going on. Besides my occasional trip to the store I went to every once in awhile, and that’s only if I decided to get myself as bundled up as a trench coat, multiple scarfs, my dark sunglasses and boots. People were some of the scariest, dirtiest, most unpredictable things in the entire world, every one was different, everyone was thinking something else, always trying to get to know you for personal gain, it’s scary. When I can’t predict what’s going on it’s a battle field, an open war, some one could come out with a knife and stab me, I could be beaten to death, I could be stolen or murdered, I don’t want some one to come and control me, that’s utterly disgusting. I am not a puppet, the only one controlling me is myself and no matter what will happen, I will never except that.

Now people weren’t just near me, they were in my house, they were standing in the room I put time into, they were just standing there, laughing, talking, looking around, they didn’t know I was here, or did they? Not knowing is the problem, this ignorance is the problem, if I could read minds I could relax, but for now I don’t. The moment I saw them coming I hid, I hid in the closet, my shotgun rested by my side, and my eyes felt like they were bulging out of my head, my frizzy, unwashed blonde hair was tickling me, causing my paranoia to reach an even a further insanity, I’m not insane though, these people are insane. You don’t go into people’s houses, you don’t do that, some one lives here, this house is not abandoned, even if it seems like it. They should know it’s not abandoned, if they didn’t know almost everything how would they have the confidence to do this, right? “Doesn’t look like anyone lives here.” The larger man laughed, his laughed sounded liked a howl almost, like a wolf you could sometimes hear on the full moon nights, his boots banged against the floors.

I couldn’t see much of either of there faces, and I didn’t want to see there faces I wanted them to leave, I needed them to leave. Clearing my throat, I could hardly remember what my own voice sounded like, and I opened my mouth, trying to speak, it didn’t work, I forgot. I could not speak, I breathed heavily again, and closed my eyes, realizing I this wasn’t going to work, I screamed. This horrifying scream caused them to run over to the closest.

Gazing out of the rusty window, dust twirling in front of me, dancing, mocking me, waving my hand into the dust I leaned forward onto the wall trying to see anything through the foggy glass. There was no use though, all it did was cause my already blistered hands to get splinters, and my paranoia out of hand. While some people are comforted by ignorance I think it’s what’s causing me to feel so insecure about nothing at all, because I don’t see it going on. Can’t control everything I suppose, I forced out a laugh, that ended up sounding like I was choking. “What’s up?” Lindsey asked, as she began to cough, way too much dust here.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” I quietly lied. “These windows are shit, is there something I can use to smash it open?” As she held herself up on the beams from the ceiling, it was way too low to be normal though. Shaking her head she looked around the deserted attic of the abandoned house I never thought I’d be driven to, “If you think a severed piece of wood could do it.” she laughed, her sense of humor was too dry for anyone to appreciate.

Waving my hand to her she shrugged, at least she came up with an idea. Pushing a piece of her blonde fringed out of her face she coughed again, ruffling her blonde curls, with that she picked up her water, her soft brown eyes held a certain glow after that. Her coughing ceased and I walked over to her, putting my hand on her shoulder, attempting to excite her bland glow that came off of her. “C’mon isn’t it exciting for living in such a boring town?”

“A discovery of a some shit run down house? Oh, of course.” Adam smiled sarcastically, peaking out of the staircase’s almost movie like entrance, that was on the floor of the attic, stairs coming down from the two other rooms. “Get out of here you fuck.” Lindsey laughed, looking away, focusing all her attention on some bookcase, walking away from me.

“Fuck, damn shit.” Adam sputtered out a bundle of curses as his foot slipped off the ladder. Opening the hatch of the staircase I grabbed his hand. Adam was such a damn hippie, he had been growing this beard since he was fourteen, and he trimmed it to look decent, even after five years, but it still wasn’t very professional looking. He hardly ever smiled, but his eyes always held this beautiful thankful gleam, he was such a spirited guy, a beautiful soul. I always envied his out look on the world.

Standing in front of the blood covered man I call my brother, I leaned down slightly, his eyes open in a fluttered open and he breathed out slowly, I couldn’t relax, my heart was beating faster then it ever has before I could hardly move. Grasping his hand, he gripped my arm tightly, in attempt to calm himself down, I wanted to cry, I wanted to break down and cry, but he didn’t need that. “Why?” I looked down at him, he tried to cover the cuts on his arm with his hoodie, which were now scabs, he was such a fragile thing, I couldn’t understand why he let girls leave smudges on his beautiful little heart.

In the beginning he didn’t respond, he sat up on his bathroom floor and bit his lip, staring intently on the toilet paper behind me. Bending down, I sat, in front of him, I touched his cheek softly, smiling at him, trying to comfort him the best I could. I could remember when he was just a little innocent boy, now, I couldn’t tell what he was. He wrapped his arms around me, and I held him in this tight embrace, he didn’t breath for awhile, he just held his breath, like he was scared to breath on me. Slowly I began to rub his back, he let out a sob, and started crying a little bit, gripping the back of my white dress shirt, for once I didn’t care how terrible I looked it was all about him. “Why?” He took his head off my shoulder, his tear glazed eyes gazed into mine, searching for the answer.

“I guess I’m stupid.” he leaned back onto the bathroom wall, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. His usually beautiful blue eyes were turning red, that was the only color in his face, the rest of him was paler then I’ve ever seen. As he spoke I could almost taste the alcohol on his breath, it was heartbreaking, when some one broke his heart a million hearts were broken along with it. “You are not stupid.” I moved next to him. “I have known you all your life, all these twenty seven years, and I know, that my little brother is not stupid. He may do some stupid things, and act pretty silly, but he is NOT dumb.”

With this small smile on his face, he looked up to this ceiling, his tears dripped down his face, along with his sadness. Lost in nostalgia for this moment he laughed, and put his hand in front of his face while he spoke. “Do you remember Alex? The guy from my band?” I nodded, trying to get the distinct smell of tears out of my head. Patrick went on as I thought “He told me, that your words meant more to him then anyone else’s, he said you held this genuine thing with everything you say. We all really thought about the stuff you told us when we came home from school. He said you were never wrong.”

A smile filled my grave impression that used to dominate my face, “Thanks Patrick.” Suddenly, he laughed a little more, and shook his head, kicking me softly in the shin, giving me a mischievous little grin, “I always thought, that that was complete and utter bullshit.”

Laughing at him, I stood up, and with that he followed me, I knew he couldn’t resist being with me, what can I say. I’m completely awesome

I keep licking my lips like it’s the only thing I know how to do, and my eyes are tracing the edges of the photographs, I don’t remember why I still had these, but inside I know, I know it was because I just didn’t want to leave Samantha, I wanted to be near her forever, but forever never lasts does it, sure as hell didn’t with Ashlee, why would it with her? Never first choice, who in their right mind would chose me before a guy like Patrick? I’m a one night stand, I’m that lie you cover up, I’m just a scumbag as far as anyone in concerned. Shaking my head, I realize this doesn’t help anyone, but I don’t want this reminders any longer, I have to except I just lost her, I lost the game, I’m a goddamn loser. There’s this stack of photographs next to me, and I pick up a couple of them, and toss them into my bonfire, that hasn’t even been lit yet, and take a moment to look at them. Most of these she’s so young, she’s just doing whatever she wants, there’s one she’s drinking straight out of a bottle of vodka, and one she’s playing my bass. Tears well up in my eyes, she was just such a crazy women, such a beautiful, crazy woman, now she’s a mom. A hot mom at that, but not the Samantha I know, not the girl I thought I’d marry, not the girl I needed. Fumbling around, I take out my lighter, and almost burn my thumb on the flame, and the wind keeps taking the fire out, nothing wants me to let her go.

Finally, I set one of the pictures on fire, and her beautiful, smiling, girl disappears into ash, and I don’t know if it’s from the flames or from the event itself, but my eyes well up with tears and I’m crying eyeliner going down my face. Ever since she dated Patrick it hasn’t been the same, ever since she started acting like a grown up she hasn’t been my Samantha. if i could have her back for just a couple hours, I’d just do anything for it, god what I’d do. And as I’m thinking these crazy unrealistic thoughts, she’s burning away, she’s disappearing, loosing touch with this woman I love. Without thinking, I kept putting in more photographs, until I get to this one picture, the last picture in the pile, and I’m in it too. She’s sitting in my bed, some hotel bed probably, and she’s wearing this loose tank top, I remember that night, and she wasn’t wearing a bra so she’s covering herself with the blanket, and I’m kissing her on the cheek, and she’s laughing and smiling. I remember how she used to taste like alcohol and cherries, and she didn’t think I was evil, if only I didn’t make so many mistakes.

Honestly, it’s hard to remember, it’s hard to remember how I screwed up this bag, but when it hits me, it hits me quickly, and I’m right back to how I screwed up in the first place, how I lost the woman who kept me from killing myself over Ashlee. Samantha, is standing, and I can remember exactly what she’s wearing, and we’re going clubbing, so she’s wearing a tight black corset type shirt, and super short, shorts, her lips are the perfect shade of red, her hair is blown out, her eyes as always making her look like a raccoon, and she smells like this cinnamon gum she used to chew, to cover up the scent of cigarettes. She smoked such cheap stuff, when she had benson hedges with me, she looked like she was completely mind blown over it. It’s some completely packed place, and I’m walking, my hands as low as I could take them without her slapping me, which wasn’t all that painful, it was sexier than anything she thought it hurt me. I can’t recall anything about how I looked, which is such a weird thing for me, but I didn’t take my eyes off her, but still I did and that was the problem.

Samantha used to be a heavy drinker, and she’s getting drunk as hell, and she’s throwing up, way too much for her to even remember, she hardly remembers any of the clubbing we ever did. So, I’m lost, and I don’t know where the hell she is, and she was never the most faithful girl, and as I said before she was a drinker. So now I’m walking around, hitting on girls, because hell, neither of us were ready for a committed relationship at that time, not that I didn’t love her, but I see this girl. The sad thing is, I can’t remember a thing about when I was making out with this girl, but it was fucking terrible, I just did it to “get back” at Samantha, cause I though she was cheating, when she was really puking her guts out. As she walks out of the bathroom, and see’s me making out to “A Little Less Than Sixteen Candles Or A Little More.” she goes insane, and she walked out of that club, and I never see her again, or at least not until Patrick tells me their dating.

Just to make me more of a scum bag, when I saw her leaving, I walk over to her, and her eyes are filled with tears from seeing me make out with another girl, when I was suppose to be with her. So, were both standing outside the club, she’s waiting for her cab, and I slammed her against the wall, her lips collide with mine, and she tastes like shitty bathroom mouthwash, but she’s still the best kisser I’ve ever kissed, but she isn’t into it. She pushes me off her, kicks me in the shin, as hard as she can and gets into her cab, flipping me off on the way back. After that though, I wasn’t ready to abandon her, I spent so much time trying to find a way to talk to her. She changed her number, she moved out of L.A. and no one has heard from her in weeks. That’s how I lost her, that’s the stupid petty bullshit way I lost her. Damn it I was a good fuck when I wanted to be, so what, I was young and heartbroken and jealous. My jealously broke me, it shattered my dream, it took her away from me.

Now, I slip my photo of us, into my bcd pocket, kick the ashes of the rest of the pictures, setting out the fire and I walk back inside. Samantha only lives a block away, hell I could walk there if I wanted to so, I go into my back yard, and cut a pink rose off the rose bush, pricking my finger on the thorns, causing me to bleed. Taking some pale pink piece of paper, I do the stupid thing of spraying it slightly with cologne, and I take a red pen, it’s ink is completely running and awful, so the words are smudged and I write “I miss you x. P” and stick it on the rose. Walking quickly to her house, I leave it on her porch, i don’t want to see her reaction, I don’t want to know what she thinks of me anymore, i’m nothing, but a friend anymore. I’m so sick of taking it.