Imperfect

The Final Straw

The arguments had started back up and Finley and I were officially on the rocks. I tried to be out of the house for as long as I could. It felt like we were strangers in passing and we had completely lost touch with each other. The number of times I had woken up in the middle of the night to Finley throwing his guts up was unreal. What was worse, there had been far too many times when I had to clean him up and basically carry him to bed. My parents had been endlessly supportive and had been there for me one hundred percent. I had spent a lot of time at their house, eating home cooked meals, spending time with the dogs and generally trying to find myself again. I had thrown everything into my relationship with Finley and I had lost my confidence, due to the constant gossiping online and in the media, my friends, because they were sick of the drama, and eventually my job, because paparazzi and fan's kept turning up at my workplace. I had been totally lost and my parents had been my biggest fans. I had deactivated all of my social media and just decided to live my life. I had begun feeling much better, and after a long hard talk with my parents, we had agreed that I was going to move out of the home I shared with Fin. Maybe we had moved in together too quickly and now was the time for a break.

We turned up at around two in the afternoon, I was hoping Finley would be at work, or out with friends, anywhere but at the house. My parents pulled up at the gates, and I tapped in the code. Of course, true to form, there were people stood outside. Luckily security managed to keep them at bay. My parents drove up the long driveway to the house and I sat in the car staring at what was once, a house beyond my wildest dreams.

"Are you ok babe?" Mum asked from the front of the car. She turned to look at me, and I nodded. This was going to be the hardest thing I had ever done. I took some deep breaths and tried to calm my beating heart. My panic attacks had been threatening to resurface recently, and more often than not I found myself losing the battle against them.

"I think so. I'm just gonna grab a suitcase and enough clothes for a few weeks until I figure out what I'm doing." I said with a forced smile. My Mum patted my leg sadly.

"And if he's in there?" Mum said.

"We ignore him." I said. My chest was already tightening and I was nervous about going back into the house. Every inch of my being was telling me to run but I knew I needed to do this. I needed to get my sanity back. I fumbled with the keys and anxiously unlocked the door. I hadn't been home for a week and the stench coming from the house let me know that. Mr. Boots came running up to me, chirping and meowing loudly. I bent down and picked him up. I had missed him a lot. Mum also fussed him and he immediately erupted into loud satisfied purrs. I put him down, and looked around the hall. There were shoes everywhere. Some half eaten takeaway boxes had been stacked on the entrance table and I nearly gagged at the smell. I led Mum to my old bedroom. I rapped on the door, but there was no answer. That probably meant Finley wasn't here. I pushed it open and the room was messier than downstairs. It stunk of stale alcohol, rotten food, and dirty clothes. I once again found myself suppressing a gag. It was disgusting.

"My God, what has he been up to?" Mum asked. I quickly dug out an old suitcase from the wardrobe and heaved it onto the messy bed.

"Ouch!" Someone croaked. I screamed and jumped backwards. I fell straight on my bsckside and I was horrified. The suitcase was shoved off the bed and hit the floor with a loud thud. Finley appeared from underneath the mess of clothes and underwear on the bed. He looked awful. He had huge dark circles underneath his red bloodshot eyes. His skin was pale and almost yellow looking. His hair was greasy and unkempt, and flopped over one of his eyes.

"S-Sorry!" I stuttered, not knowing what else to say. I quickly got to my feet and brushed myself down.

"Oh, you're back." He said half asleep. I bit my lip and looked to my Mum. She shook her head indicating I shouldn't speak to him. I sighed and picked up the suitcase. I cleared some of Finley's crumpled clothes from the end of the bed and laid it on the floor messy floor. Just the essentials, I kept reminding myself. "Ah the silent treatment. My favourite." Finley said sarcastically. He sat up, and practically coughed up a lung. I was seriously worried about him. He was spiralling out of control. I also knew I couldn't help him until I helped myself. I was so run down and broken that our relationship had become toxic. I had to fix myself, and as much as it pained me to even think about it, Finley and I might not have the fairytale ending I had always dreamed of.