Angry at Love - Chapter 19: Chapter 19

MILES>>>
I sighed as I dragged myself down the hallway away from English class. I think I was supposed to go to the office but I didn't particularly care at that moment. My mind was a complete and utter mess.
It was a confused jumble of emotions. I felt extremely sad, like I wanted to cry my fucking eyes out. But at the same time I was really really angry. I wanted to punch something, and punch it real hard. Repeatedly. Maybe someone.
But then at the same time as both of those, I was in pain. I had a humongous headache and the lights were really starting to bug me, and the sunglasses were not helping as much as I'd have liked. All my limbs hurt and I felt like I was going to drop to the floor any moment and just faint.
The night before, I'd gotten about an hour or two of sleep, trying to deal with the huge pile of assignments I had in an effort to clear my head; I did that because I knew for certain there was no way I would be able to sleep. But that only frustrated me more because I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do with all that random information the teachers gave.
I picked up my headphones and put them in, tapping a playlist that fit with my current mood. I tried to use the music to calm me down, but even that was too loud for my now overly sensitive ears. This only irritated me further and I ripped them out, punching the wall so hard I hissed in pain.
Now, if this was any other day in any other situation, I know exactly what I'd do.
I'd go to casey.
But I couldnt fucking do that because he also fucking hated my guts right now. This led me to wondering if there was anyone who didn't actually hate me at the moment, but to my disappointment, I couldn't think of anybody. Not a single person.
I kinda angered the entire school by fighting so many people that were valued, so they saw me as a violent jerk. The teachers hated me cause I didn't do work and slept in class. My so-called "dad" hated me cause I'm into guys. My social worker probably hated me because I cause him so much trouble and am quite annoying to him.
And now my own fucking boyfriend hates me too.
Awesome.
Fantastic.
Just fucking wonderful.
I sighed, trudging down the hall. Did I do something? I tried and tried desperately to find something that would make Casey hate me this much. At least then I could apologise.
Did I not give him enough attention? Would that make him completely ignore my existence?
Did I say something that offended him? What did I say? When?
Would Casey ever forgive me? Would he just ignore me for the rest of his life? The thought made me want to curl up into a ball and cry. But I couldn't do that because he was in the middle of the hallway. So I tried to find the nearest bathroom. At least there, I could cry with a little more dignity.
Once I was in the bathroom I rushed to the nearest stall, completely ignoring the kid at the sink who was probably staring at me. Instead I kept my eyes firmly on the ground.
I shakily locked the stall and sank to the ground, not giving a single shit about the undoubtedly gross things on the bathroom floor.
I hugged his knees to my chest and finally let a single tear escape. No one could see me right now, it didn't matter.
My thoughts were no longer words, just a jumbled mess of wordless thoughts. What felt like thousands of worries simultaneously swirling around his head.
I was worrying about his classes, that I'd be held back again and I'd get yelled at by teachers, social workers, and foster parents.
At the same time, I was worrying about having a seizure. That I'd be completely alone and it would just sneak up on me. That no one around me would care or know what to do and I'd get hurt. I hadn't had a big seizure in a while, and the thought of it happening again with not a single person around, well, that was absolutely petrifying.
I was also worrying that Fisher would beat me up when he got home that day. Who's to say that he wouldn't? It had happened before. Not with fisher, but still.
And on top of that I was also worrying that I'd get moved to a new home and have to leave Casey without figuring out what was going on. And I'd have to deal with all new people, navigate that mess all over again while trying to get over severe heartbreak.
On top of all this, I was also worrying about Casey. Had I hurt him in some way? Was I just a huge jerk that didn't even care that I had hurt Casey? I must have been the biggest jerk in the entire world to not remember what he had done to make his very own boyfriend hate me.
All of this was happening in the exact same moment, intensifying it all the more.
And layered on top of all this was just a fear. A fear of what I wasn't entirely sure of. But I was just scared. So fucking scared. I hadn't even noticed I'd started rocking myself back and forth while tears streamed down my face.
I hated myself. I was weak. I was so fucking weak. Crying at school? Crying at all? I was so fucking weak. I couldn't even confront my own problems. Instead, I just hid away in a dirty bathroom stall while I cried.
And I hated Fisher. I hated Fisher so much that I wanted to go and beat the absolute shit out of the man. I wanted to punch his face until it was black and blue. Maybe break a bone or two? But at the same time, I was scared. I was scared because I worried that . . . what if I couldn't win against Fisher? Then I'd just end up on the ground in a fetal position trying to protect myself like a fucking weakling I was. Then I'd just be kicked and punched until I couldn't move. It wasn't worth it.
And I hated my teachers. They kept pestering me every single time they got the chance. And instead of at the very very minimum asking how to help, they just disregarded my problems entirely and gave me ten more assignments to do. They didn't ask why I couldn't get the work done, they didn't ask why I didn't get the curriculum of the class. They didn't ask why I was failing tests.
They just scoffed when I tried to tell them I was trying, and dumped more to do on me. So I stopped trying to tell them anything.
And I hated casey. I didn't want to admit it, but at that moment, I did. Why? Because the boy just completely disregarded my entire existence when I needed my boyfriend's support the most. He didn't even try to talk to him, didn't try and ask any questions about what he'd done. He didn't give a single clue as to why he was mad.
I was a mess, needless to say. I was scared. And I was angry at every single fucking thing in this shitty world.
I was . I mean, that's what got me into this mess in the first place, right? Love is what's making me feel like absolute dog shit and acidic chemicals mixed together. Not that I love Casey or anything . . . I'm a teenager.
But still, love got me hurt. Every time I opened up, I believed that the people I was showing myself to loved me. I trusted them, I trusted that they loved me enough not to turn their back the moment they saw something they didn't like.
Love was the reason I was in the foster care system in the first place. Because my own parents didn't love me enough to keep me around. Love is the reason that I hated almost everything, because it wasn't there. Because it was fake, or it was real, it was so fleeting that one little thing could snap love in half.
Love is a liar, and I was fucking .