Blood And Blocked Airways
Title: Blood And Blocked Airways
Rating: Erm, I guess PG-13 for sexual references
Summary: No matter how hard Patrick tried, it would always been the same. Just a drabble.
Disclaimer: Don't own, this never happened.
Notes: If this isn't that great, I apologize now. It's the best I can come up with, and it wasn't beta-ed. My boyfriend and I split today, so I'm really upset and trying to take my mind off of things. It's in Patrick's point of view, since it was never specified.
Everything is still the same. No matter how much I try to make things different, they are always the same.
He’ll always love her. I’ll always love him. Nothing matters when she’s around. Everything matters when he’s around.
It’s not the gentle kisses we once shared, or the cold sensation that runs up my spine when I think of our skin touching that night. It’s none of that, not one bit. It’s the kisses he shares with her now, and the countless times I listen to their pleasure at night.
He’ll never know anything about how I feel, because that would probably end up hurting more than just myself in the end. He wants to have the relationship with her; he lives on keeping it alive.
Maybe I should have the same attitude.
But I can’t.
I won’t.
I need him as much as he needs her lips to survive. I need him as much as he needs her sex to breathe. I need him as much as he needs her touch to jump start his heart into beating again.
And there’s nothing I’ll ever be able to do about it. I’ve spent years struggling between blood and blocked airway to breathe, but he doesn’t notice a single thing. Ever since that night between us, that drunken night of experimentation and love, he hasn’t paid one single second of attention to my feelings.
It’s all about her, no matter how hard I try, and it will always be the same.
Comments are lovely. Concrit is also lovely, too.
Rating: Erm, I guess PG-13 for sexual references
Summary: No matter how hard Patrick tried, it would always been the same. Just a drabble.
Disclaimer: Don't own, this never happened.
Notes: If this isn't that great, I apologize now. It's the best I can come up with, and it wasn't beta-ed. My boyfriend and I split today, so I'm really upset and trying to take my mind off of things. It's in Patrick's point of view, since it was never specified.
Everything is still the same. No matter how much I try to make things different, they are always the same.
He’ll always love her. I’ll always love him. Nothing matters when she’s around. Everything matters when he’s around.
It’s not the gentle kisses we once shared, or the cold sensation that runs up my spine when I think of our skin touching that night. It’s none of that, not one bit. It’s the kisses he shares with her now, and the countless times I listen to their pleasure at night.
He’ll never know anything about how I feel, because that would probably end up hurting more than just myself in the end. He wants to have the relationship with her; he lives on keeping it alive.
Maybe I should have the same attitude.
But I can’t.
I won’t.
I need him as much as he needs her lips to survive. I need him as much as he needs her sex to breathe. I need him as much as he needs her touch to jump start his heart into beating again.
And there’s nothing I’ll ever be able to do about it. I’ve spent years struggling between blood and blocked airway to breathe, but he doesn’t notice a single thing. Ever since that night between us, that drunken night of experimentation and love, he hasn’t paid one single second of attention to my feelings.
It’s all about her, no matter how hard I try, and it will always be the same.
Comments are lovely. Concrit is also lovely, too.