I'm so done. Calum hasn't been home since this morning, and he said he'd be back around 2 p.m. It's 10 at night. I've been attempting to call him all day. I just want to know where he is. I'm not usually this clingy but when he says he'd be back at a certain time, he would be. The anxiety level of my mental health is incredulous right now. Walking up the stairs to lie in Calum and I's bed, I hear the front door open. Right after that, the noise of something glass shatters. I rush downstairs to see what the commotion is.
All I see is Calum sitting against the front door with his back to it and a shattered vase on the hardwood floor. My love's knees are tucked to his chest with his arms around them.
Worried, I say, "Calum?" I inch closer to him, little by little. "Cal, what's wrong?"
When I reach Calum, I sit right next to him. He picks his head up from his knees and looks at me dead in the eyes, tears staining every bit of his cheeks. I'd never seen Calum cry except for when we had gotten back from touring, but those were tears of joy. These were of sadness, maybe even sorrow. Calum takes his finger and touches the few strands of hair that fell on the side of my face. He tucks it behind my ear.
"I love you," he says quietly, his voice breaking. "I love you so, so much."
When Calum pulls me in for a hug, he grips me tightly and doesn't let go. He rubs my back and brushes my hair with his fingertips. His touches are the lightest they've ever been, almost like he's scared to break a thousand-year-old painting. I immediately think of the worst possible scenario: him cheating on me. I hug Calum back as he's in a fragile state I'd never seen him transfer to while thinking of the scenario. Could he be upset at himself for cheating on me? Is that why he's crying? No, definitely not. Calum's parents said that if they ever broke my heart, they'd break him. They think of me as their daughter--in a non-incest way.
"I love you, too, Cal," I say confused. "What's wrong? What happened?" I just need to know what happened.
I pull away from him and we sit across from each other with our legs crossed. Calum looks down at my hands that are on my own legs.
"You can't leave me," he says.
"What?" I ask.
A little clearer this time but quieter, Calum says, "Don't leave me."
"What? Why would I leave you?"
"I did something bad," he says.
I knew it.
"I did something really bad," he explains. Calum grabs both of my hands in his and brings them to his heart. "I know you know what I did." His voice is really shaky, but not shakier than my hands. They're trembling against his tank-top covered chest. Calum slides his shirt up and places my right hand over his right side so I feel his heart thumping. My eyes close with tears brimming.
"It's for you," he says. "My heart beats for you and no one- "
"But you did it," I whisper, interrupting him. I pause as he presses harder on my hand. "You let it beat for someone else all day today."
I yank my hand away and jump up as fast as I can. The amount of pain my heart is carrying is unbearable. I can't look at Calum or be in the same room as him. I won't listen to his voice or his songs or his cries. I won't be around him.
Calum chases me up the stairs but I beat him to our bedroom. I shut the door and lock it all at once. He doesn't pound on it for me to open it for him; he just talks to me through it.
"Babe, I'm sorry," he says. "Don't leave. Please just sleep in there. Please don't go. I'll be in the living room."
He says more nothings and then there's silence.
Not total silence, but silence in the hallway outside of our door. There's still noise on the inside of the door and on the outside; my cries stay inside, his cries stay out. I don't understand. How could Calum do that? Seems like the typical rockstar thing to do, huh? Get a girlfriend, show her the world, love her and convince her to love you just as much or even more, and break her stupid little heart by sleeping with someone else . . . That's not Calum, though. I hope that's not Calum.
While looking through our pictures of Cal and I smiling, I see this one that I've always loved of us. I have marks on my stomach and arms and legs--basically my entire body--because of self mutilation. This picture is one Calum really wanted to take; he basically forced me to take it because I was trying to avoid doing it but he made me. Cal set his camera on the nightstand and made me take off the shirt he let me borrow so my cuts showed. I had a bra and sweatpants on. Calum turned off the lights and set the timer for three seconds on the camera while flicking on the flash. My cuts wrapped (and still wrap) from my belly button to my rib cage. It's disgusting.
What Calum did for this picture was remarkable. He pressed the button to snap the photo. He only had three seconds to get in whatever position he was aiming for. As I stood with my side to the camera lens, Calum knelt on his knees, gently put his hands on the back of my thighs, and even more gently--he kissed my stomach and the picture was taken. In the final photo, Calum is hugging my scarred legs while kissing my scarred body with my hands tangled in his hair.
After that, Cal picked me up and laid me on the bed while getting two blankets to put over us. Nothing made me happier that night than to feel his hands in my hair. He sang me my favorite song as I went to sleep: "Many of Horror" by Biffy Clyro. His voice is the best for that song. It always makes me feel good to know he's there to pick me up.
And now, when I need to be picked up the most, he's not there because he's the one putting me down.