Again Again!

lose my faith x graham coxon

*very very angsty*

warning: lil bit of unwanted touching, alcohol, and abuse 

https://youtu.be/Chcy9K6ywjA this song inspired this <3

i hate the way i love too look at him why can't i see he doesn't need me. he only needs cigarettes and alcohol. he needed the things that make him numb, but i was not that. i made him feel things he told me. i made him feel the things he is scared of the most. id look at him but i couldn't see the man i once knew, the one with sparkling puppy eyes, art supplies always colorful, and a humming a pretty tune. now all i can see is dull droopy eyes, red and puffy, colorless art with scary undertones, and the hum of tune sounding like radiohead. 

sitting in this room by myself was torture. bruises littered my legs and scratches on my arms.

they always tell me to get help, get out of something so toxic. but i knew he loved me deep down. the only part of him that didn’t love me was the alcohol.

i heard a light knock on the door, i knew he had sobered up. when he was still drunk the knocks would be bangs. the door was locked so i crept up from my corner in the room to let him in.

light peaked through the door as i had shut out all the lights in the room. the only light other than the hall was the haunting 3am moonlight.

his hair was messy and eyes lidded. he had just stopped stomping around the house, throwing anything in reach.

as he came in he fell into my shoulder. his head dropped low to my level. i could smell the poison on his lips. i felt his body jolt, i knew he was crying.

i walked him over to the bed to let him down. i took off his shoes then his jacket, i did this at least 4 times a week.

but i loved him and would do anything for him.

“you won’t leave me, right?” he said in a broken raspy voice, “i’ll get better, i promise”

i didn’t know how to respond, how many times could i hear him say he’d get better yet still see no change.

“just lay down” i whispered.

i knew he had a big gig tomorrow and i was just hoping it would go different this time. 

          𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁    

before we sat in the car we were at grahams gig at princess charlotte, a crowd full of beautiful strangers. at the gig we sat in the green room, graham wasn't in the room. he stepped out to use the bathroom while i was sat with his band mate damon. he held a cigarette between his fingers, and was looking at my legs. 

“what happened to you” he said in his mockney voice as he pointed to my bruises.

i felt my face loose all color, i wasn't sure what to say. 

“eh, we all fall over when we're drunk” he laughed. i felt a wave of relief and just in time as graham walked in. he already had a bottle in hand as he strolled over. he wrapped his arm around my waist, any other time it would feel nice. but now i feel scared that he will do something that will show damon what's going on and that he will take graham away from me.

as the rest of the members came in graham and i hid in the back on the couch. he kept looking at me and i soon saw damon catch on. 

“stop” i whispered as graham started to grab my leg.

“oh have some fun” he said, but it wasn't him. it wasn’t my graham.

damon looked over with worried eyes, just faked smiled slightly. graham noticed and shook his head. 

“you got smthin for D now too” he slurred.

“graham-” i wishperd once again.

“no tell me, i know you don't want me. i'm a drunk piece of shit” he stood up and looked down on me. i felt small as i looked up at him. 

damon stood up, i could tell he was starting to get worried also.

“boys its time to go on stage” a man spoke into the room.

graham looked back at me as he walked away, damon did the same. but their eyes were not the same. 

they did great up on stage, the first hour of him being drunk was always him being light and fun. but now its been two hours and he's tired and dissacocated.

we had just got into the car after the gig. i turned my head to face the window as i couldn't stand looking at him. i tried to watch the rain but it's hard to see through the tears in my eyes. he was the reason i was crying, he did this every time.

he’d fight me for the keys to the car no matter how much a told him no. but if i didn’t he’d hurt me. but it was only when he was drunk that he’d touch me like that. otherwise he was gentle and made me feel like the luckiest women in the world.

the rain started to get faster and louder. then i saw the trees were starting to speed up. i looked to graham worried, he had a straight face. i looked at the speed we were almost going 100mph.

“slow down why are you rushing” i said starting to panic.

“shut up” 

“what-” i whispered as a felt my throat start to ache with ever waiting tears.

“just shut the fuck up” he said the vile, scary sentence in such a monotone voice.

our arguments always ended up like this, him yelling me crying. he was always in control when he was in this state of mind he was always the one yelling. i was always so submissive and felt as though i couldn't fight back, i was too weak. 

the whole ride was a horror show and it felt like i death trip. we pulled into the drive way of our appertment. i started to feel a bit more scared, i didnt want to be alone with him again. 

he turned off the car and sat still for a minute looking foward, i stared at him. he started to rub his eyes and hair. 

“whats wrong with me?” he said in a broken voice, “why cant i just get better” 

i watched as a tear ran down his face, it broke me. his crying was always so meaningful. i was one of the only person who ever saw it, he didnt like show his weakness infront of others. 

“im not sure graham, i really do miss you, the real you. the one who dosent hurt me the way this graham does” 

for the first time in weeks he looked up at me in the eyes, they were so dull so colorless. but for the first time in a while i saw a sparkle. 

“lets just go inside” 

as we walked in i went straight to our room, him following after. he layed down and i took his shoes off for him. i came into bed and after a minute of laying there he knocked out. my tears came out then, i miss him so much. we keep doing this every night. i want him back but i cant listen to him say he wants to get better every night. its getting too hard. i miss him so much. 

I love grown ass men with strong arms, toned chests, styled hair, rough beards/stubble, and good cologne.

Friendly reminder

Mental illness can manifest into physical pain. Your headaches might be a response to your OCD, not definite proof you have a serious illness you need to go to the hospital for now.

okay