The late nights.
The drugs.
The booze.
The cars.
The cash.
The tours.
The girls.
The fame.
What good is it when you can't back it up? When you can't come home to a person loves you. A person that wants to do nothing more than hold you. Care about you. And be cared about by you? What good is it at all? Was it really worth it?
To lose it all.
I watched my boyfriend clutch a microphone in his hand. Screaming about seizing the day and not regretting it. I watched him and his best friends prance around that stage. Their adoring fans screaming their love, their devoting, their lives to these boys. My boys. And all I could do was watch him.
Him.
M. Shadows.
He was late. Again. He left 6 hours ago, after promising he'd be home in half an hour. He told me that he had to go handle some things. Some business he had to take care of with Zacky V. Funny thing about that is. Every single one of those boys called me in the last couple hours. Looking for him. Asking me have I seen him all day.
"Hey, is Matt home yet?"
He was supposed to be home hours ago.
"Nope, he's not home yet Jimmy-pop."
He was supposed to be home hours ago.
"Kay, thanks babes. Tell him to call me when he gets home."
He was supposed to him home hours ago.
Home.
Home.
What did home mean to anyone anymore? Did it mean a jail? Is that why my boyfriend can't seem to find his way here? Did he escape the bars on the windows? I looked just to be sure. The large window in the living room was wide open, a cool breeze drifted through it. Steadily blowing the curtains in it's passing. Nope, no bars on that window. Maybe he dug a secret hole through the kitchen floor with a spoon like in those movies. I got up off the couch, my bare feet hitting the polished wooden floors. A light pitter patter was heard from the movements I made into the kitchen. I looked around. Looking for a hole big enough that Matthew could squeeze his large body through without me noticing. I checked under the table, in the cabinets, behind the fridge.
Nope, no hole.
Maxy
Well, this house obviously wasn't a prison. We had no guard dog. Except my teacup terrier, Maxy who was my Christmas present from Matt last year. That little thing probably wouldn't hurt a fly if it wasn't almost the same size as him. I kept looking for excuses. Reasons why this house wasn't good enough to be Matthews home. I needed a good reason why he wasn't home yet.
Some clue as to why my boyfriend of 2 years.
Forgot my birthday.
. . .
And that reason came at 4 am in the morning. Exactly 6 hours after I searched my home for escape routes. 5 hours after Id fallen asleep on the couch in the living room after singing myself happy birthday. 4 hours after I forced myself to wake up and go upstairs. 3 hours of rolling around in bed, unable to get comfortable without big tattooed arms holding me. 2 hours after 5 tubs of Ben and Jerri's half pint ice creams. And 45 minutes of hearing a large truck pulling into the drive way. Turning off. And cooling down. 30 minutes of hearing a key trying to get into the correct hole. 20 minutes of hearing the door slam and a heavy body slumping in the kitchen and pouring their contents out into a near by garbage bin.
I didn't need anymore of a clearer answer. Before Matt could even get up the stairs, I was off the bed and in the guest room. Staring at the wall soundlessly as his drunken body stumbled down the hallway and into the bed room. He didnt call my name once. Because before he hit the sheets. He was out cold. His snoring vibrating off the walls and into my ear drums. I closed my eyes and sighed, sincerely wondering to myself as I forced myself out of the warm sheets of the guest room and made my way to the bathroom down the hall.
2 Advils. A glass of water.
These were the things that made M Shadows happy. The things he needed to get by other than his groupies, his band, his voice, his money, and his tattoos. He didnt need me. He forgot about my birthday. And he would probably not even care..
I crept quietly into our room and smiled sadly. He was half way on the bed. Maxy was cuddled up under his large arm and Matt was snuggling back into the small dog. I set the water and pills down next to the bed head and moved to take off his shoes. My soft hands unlacing the contraptions that held his feet before letting them fall to the floor. I hear him sigh in relief. I gazed over his back and shook my head. Lightly running my fingertips up the backs of his built calves before reaching around and tugging his belt buckle. His pants fell to the floor and he groaned. I moved Maxy and set him onto his dog bed then went back to Matt. I took off his shades and pushed off his jacket. My eyes gliding over him slowly.
The perfume.
The wet stains.
The scratch marks.
The hickeys.
The backwards boxers.
The bites on his shoulders.
The puffy lips.
The 'I just got laid' smirk on his lips.
The lip stick mark on his shirt.
All those things fell on deaf ears and eyes when his arms curled around me and pulled me close. Our bodies seemingly mending perfectly together. I thrived to get closer. I missed him so much that all of those little things meant nothing. Nothing at all. Especially when he whispered, his alcoholed scented breath hitting my nose like a bombshell. .
"Thank you baby.. Happy birthday. Sorry I'm late.. business and all.."
Maybe..
Maybe all of this was worth it.
"It's okay baby.. I forgive you."
. . .
Seize the day or die regretting the time you lost,
It's empty and cold without you here,
too many people to ache over
