Heartache

My eyes are searching the club. I don't see her. I don't see her anywhere. Not a trace of her, nothing. We were in an arguement the last time I saw her. Spoke to her. Heard that voice, even though at the time it was so full of pain and anger. Another stupid fight, and I was the one to blame. We never ended, it's just that, nobody apologized. My God, I still can't find her. But I'm not supposed to be looking for her. That was months ago, and we still haven't spoken a word to each other. I'm with Trace and Nick, trying to have a good time, have a few drinks. But her words still haunt me.

My hand moves up to the brim of my hat, and I notice her out of he corner of my eye. Britney, my Britney. She's with another guy. No big deal, right? I sit down at the bar trying to keep my cool as Nick orders me a Corona and I slowly begin to down it. My eyes move back over to her now standing alone figure. She looks like she's waiting. Soon enough, my thought is answered and I see a tall, black haired man wrap her arms around her tiny waist. I grip harder onto my drink, fighting off any urge to go over there and punch the man that layed his hands onto my girl. MY GIRL. He lowers his face to her ear, and I can only imagine what he's saying. Screw that, I don't want to know what he is saying to her. Finishing what was left of my drink, I stood up as the man left her side and walked to the bar. Quickly walking over to her, I wrap my arms around her waist and look down onto her perfect figure.

I honestly don't think she knows that I'm the one who walked up behind her and grabbed her as I feel her hips begin to move to the music. Even if she doesn't see me, I don't care. It might be better that way. She is already driving me insane the way her body moves against mine. My fingertips lightly brush against the skin on her stomach and she turns around, almost shocked once her eyes see my face.

"Justin!" She gasps. I say absolutely nothing, as I lean down to whisper something into her ear, and she only pushed me back. My hand grabs her wrist, and I was startled by her actions. Walking out into the cold weather with her, I let my jelously and bitterness take over my mind.

"What does it matter to you, I'm nothing to you, remember?" Her tiny voice begins to crack, and I know I shouldn't have yelled at her. I slowly let go of her wrist, lowering my voice some as I watch her shiver in the cold.

My heart twinges with jealously as I hear the man's voice call her name. Looking down at her, I shake my head as this man takes her hand, and laces his fingers with hers. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, as I let one slip. Right now, I feel so hurt, pain, betrayal. She's moved on, and I haven't even touched a girl. I lean down to brush my lips against her perfectly shaped lips one last time, allowing her to taste one of my tears as I pull away and whisper.

And so I watch as she walks back into the club, allowing her to keep my jacket. Maybe it will somehow help her sleep at night. Or remind her of me. I remember she used to tell me how she couldn't sleep without me near, or something that smelled of me. I used to laugh at it, but now. It's more significant. It's like that saying, you don't know what you got til' it's gone. Now that she's gone, I've given her something to remember me by, and I've only given myself another night of heartache.