Inspired by true events. Decided to make a short track for it due to all of the feedback I'd received for the lyrics. More of a story than spoken word, but... Enjoy :)
Featuring "Doing It Wrong" Instrumental by Drake as background music.
"I remember that night so clearly...
It was 2AM on a weekday. I was still sleeping. My phone went off in the dark room, it's blue light swallowing the walls with an ominous blue.
Saw his name appear on the screen.
Disoriented and startled, I picked up on the third ring. Voice thick with sleep; we hadn't spoken to each other in three days.
"Come outside," he said. "We need to talk."
My voice caught in my throat. I threw on a sweater, brushed my hair to take the sleepy waves that had formed near my crown and went downstairs. My PJs... not exactly how I'd wanted my boyfriend to see me for the first time in three days. Especially not after an argument that was left unresolved aside from the bitter silence that lasted seventy two hours.
Opened the door, walked out into the warm nighttime air. Not too hot, but cool enough to bear a sweater. It was still summer vacation for me; couldn't say the same for him, though. We belonged to different school districts. He was already back in school.
This reminded me that it was a weeknight. He had school in the morning. I asked him why he came by so late.
The solemn expression in his face, drowning in his eyes made me regret ever opening my mouth.
We need to talk.
A repetition of the four words I was dreading.
And so the accusations began.
I was selfish because I always wanted to be close to him. I was reckless because when we argued, I never bothered to watch what I said. I was a handful; too much to handle, actually. Too high-maintenance. I expected too much from him.
I thought about what he said for a moment as he stood just two feet away from me. It was 2:17AM; I awkwardly checked my phone, hoping my parents didn't realize that I'd snuck out of the house to see this boy on my front yard at such an early hour.
I swallowed my pride, staring into his face. I deeply apologized. Told him that I loved him too much to continue to upset him.
I would change.
He held me close, then, and wiped the stray tears away from my cheeks. Told me he came with intentions of leaving, but now he simply couldn't. Not after seeing me in the flesh, physically. It immediately changed his mind.
He told me that seeing my face for the first time in three days made him realize how much we'd actually been through together in the time we'd known each other. Ride-or-die.
I sighed, relieved.
My first serious relationship, saved just in time.
I told him I would try my best to be a better girlfriend. I was inspired. I would be good for him; better than I ever was before.
"I need to tell you something."
His words rang in my head. My heart stopped for a split second, nearly melting with the anticipation of his I love you. I braced myself for the wonderful wave of forgiveness to crash down on me.
And that's when I felt my heart being ripped from my chest and thrown onto the concrete.
Tears. Anger. Disappointment.
I couldn't organize my feelings so I simply turned around without a word.
I felt his fingers coil around my wrist followed by a slur of words—but I wasn't listening anymore. His frantic flurry of apologies or what sounded like apologies sounded utterly desperate. I kept walking.
How could you?
I didn't notice that I was thinking out loud until he fancied my question with a response. Over and over, another "sorry." Another desperate attempt to pick up the shattered pieces that were my heart, laying scattered around his feet and all over the sidewalk in front of my house... and every step he took toward me was another crunch of the fragments.
His fingers, his disgusting, unfaithful fingers were still firmly grasping my wrist. Pulling, tugging. Pleading.
My heart yearned from the floor but my mind viciously refused.
Trust, relationships, this so called "love" that I naively believed in.
My heart ached, every shattered bit of it that laid before me. My chest burned from the empty hole behind my ribcage.
The day I found out that I wasn't "the one," because I wasn't the only one."