I was surprised, and more than a little disappointed that my idea of taking Viagra to make it look like I was horny didn’t work. Since when had Kyle not been up for sex?
My night mare that night was a weird, disturbing mix of my normal one and the more recent one with Kyle. Kyle was busy ignoring me and walking away, or telling me that it was for the best that he went, and then he handed me over to my dad.
Needless to say, it woke me up at some unholy hour in the morning, and I stumbled off through the dark, trying to find my way to the bathroom. I’d tried to be quiet so I didn’t wake Kyle up, but apparently, I wasn’t quite quiet enough.
“Nightmare?” he asked, looking at me, or at least in my general direction. I nodded, going back to trying to get to the bathroom. He followed me, but I was too focused on my little stash of smack I had hidden in there to really care too much. I looked around, my drugs already on the floor in front of me, as he knocked on the open door. He walked in and snuggled me from behind, his arms around my waist. I just sat there quietly, feeling like I’d already failed him, and myself. "Wanna talk about it?" I didn’t know how to describe it to him without making it sound like I thought he’d actually go ahead and give me back to my dad.
My gaze shot to the floor and I sniffled a little bit, trying to bite back the tears I’d nearly woken up in. He just cuddled me more and kissed the top of my head.
“I wasn’t good enough for you,” I whispered.
"Gorgeous, you're perfect just the way you are," he told me, turning me around. I sort of gestured at the drugs on the floor behind me. "I don't mind."
“I’m trying so hard,” I sort of whimpered. Even my own voice made me feel like I was being a failure.
“Rayn?” I looked up at him when he said my name, my eyes wide and a little bit too watery. "You're perfect to me, gorgeous."
“How can I be perfect to you? I’m completely wrong for you, and you know it, but I don’t know how to be right for you.” I was frustrated at myself, and Kyle’s cuddling didn’t seem to be doing much to make it any better.
"It's not you that needs to be different, doll."
“I do. I’m not good enough,” I finally cracked, then. The tears broke free, and I didn’t have the willpower to stop them.
"You are good enough. You're more than good enough. It's me that needs to change but I'm too stubborn."
“Why would you need to change? You’re the one that’s perfect. I’ve never been right for anyone, or good enough for them.” He kissed my forehead as more tears chased the cold ones clinging to my cheeks away.
"I'm not perfect, babe."
“You are,” I insisted, putting my head on his chest.
“I’m not,” he replied, smothering me in his hug. I was quiet, even though I still disagreed. I just didn’t want it to turn into a fight or anything. "C'mon, come back to bed." I glanced at the drugs ever so slightly, wondering if I’d get away with pretending to have a piss while I got my hit. He noticed my glance, though. "Whenever you're ready. I'll be waiting." That just made me feel bad, to be honest, but I wanted my hit too much for it to make me force myself to go without. I watched him until he was out of sight before turning back to my heroin.
I’m sorry I can’t be better, Kyle. I’ll try harder tomorrow.