It hurts that you chose someone over me

I was in my room laying in bed contemplating how one man can ruin me, how one man can rip my soul, tear my heart, and kill me ever so slowly from the inside out. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much that I don't think words can ever describe the agonizing pain I have to live through, I even felt betrayed, confused, and embarrassed, but I knew it wasn't his fault, or maybe it is? Regardless I couldn't hate him, but I want to so fucking badly, I just never had the guts to actually hate him or be mad at him, because I love him too much.

When had my life come to this?

I was living the dream, I am living the dream. Touring all over the world with my best set of friends, seeing thousands maybe even millions of people supporting us, partying and living the cliche rockstar life I wanted, inspiring people and doing what I love to do, what I dreamed to do, but it was never enough me huh? I just can't fucking accept my life just how it is. Damn humans and their nature to never be satisfied with what they have. But I guess I couldn't really blame the god (who I don't believe in) for making us the way we are.

But really I should blame them for not noticing, and not helping me from the inevitable pain I will go through, am still going through. They didn't notice the pain in my eyes whenever he was near, the need to get out of the same room as him because he's flirting with someone that was not me, the constant need of attention so I can distract myself of thinking about him, the internal war if I should stay close or stay as far away from him as humanly possible. They never notice anything. But yet again I couldn't really blame people who hardly know us to save me from him, they even believe that I'm so fucking close with him, which leads me into blaming myself in the end. Masochist.

Even after living everyday through all of that, the pain I felt could not compare on what I felt when I found out Alex was engaged, that's not even the worst part, I had to find out through Instagram and fans tweeting me that "Jalex was dead." But the worst pain of all is that Alex picked Rian over me as the best fucking man. I have nothing against Rian I really don't, but I felt deceived, I felt alone, the only person, my own best fucking friend didn't want me. Now I know that's stupid of me to think of, but I can't help it. If Alex himself chose someone else other than me, he's best friend since middle school, as his best man, it really takes a huge hit to your ego. I mean how can you trust someone else to be there for you if your closest friend of all couldn't be? If your closest past lover couldn't be?

Alex and I, we have a long history with each other, as friends, as brothers, as lovers, as enemies, you name it we've been it, hell we even became friends with benefits after all of that. For the past couple of years since 2009, I've felt like my love for Alex was one-sided, I know as a lover he couldn't love me like that again, but even as a friend. I've felt like he just no longer cares about me, or anything even remotely close about me anymore. It really does plummet your self-esteem to its lowest when the one supposedly close to you doesn't even acknowledge your existence. Yes, Alex is such a huge asshole by now, but he isn't. It's confusing as fuck, but I could never see him as a bigoted prick, I could never see Alex for who he really is, maybe I'm the real problem at this point. I'm too goddamn in love with the guy, that I'm blinded by it.

I am the problem.

Whatever. I need to get out of here before my self-loathing thoughts suffocate me. Huh, Tyler was right, or who ever the fuck wrote that song, sometimes quiet is violent.

Getting up and pulling on my black plain tee, and skinny jeans, a rather typical everyday clothing. I don't live up to my rockstar self, but who cares at this point, everyone practically thinks I have no sense of fashion anyways. Sometimes, I can't help but think that most of my fans are my own enemies, and barely any have enough decency to actually defend me, but really? I should fight my own battles.

Walking out of the room to the living room, I ponder for a sec if I should just laze around and watch television, but thought better of it. Getting out of the seclusion of my own apartment, I got to my car and inserted my keys and started the ignition. I drove to the nearest store that sells beer.

Inside the store I was looking for bourbon or even some type of whiskey, finally deeming that I shouldn't be picky, because beer is better than no beer at all, I finally paid at the cash register. It seems life has it out for me, because this person is apparently a 'fan.'

"Omg! Are you Jack Bakarat from All Time Low?" The girl practically squeaked at me, with her annoying nasal high-pitched voice.

"It's Barakat, and yeah the lead guitarist who makes dick jokes 24/7" smiling politely as I could.

"Oh can we take a picture? So I could show this to all my friends" she said excitedly.

"Uh yeah sure." Smiling as attractively as I could at the camera, which I'm pretty sure I failed at, since this really isn't my best day ever.

"Thank you so so so so much! My friends are so not gonna believe this, and I've finally meet someone famous" mumbling the last part so quietly I almost didn't catch it. Almost.

"I'm gonna pay for this now?" My sentence coming out as a question and showing her the bottles of beer I planned on drinking, starting to feel awkward at her looking at the phone and typing quickly, and completely ignoring that I'm a paying costumer.

"Oh shit. Sorry I forgot that'll be 58.25 dollars please" I gave her my money, and left the store quickly.

Driving quickly to my apartment, I passed by the playground where All Time Low had they're very famous photo shoot of us dangling around like monkeys. The good ole days, I still remember Alex kind of panicking of not looking 'good enough.' As if, he's one of the most attractive people at High School back then.

"Jacky!" Alex shouted, slamming my door open with a frantic look on his face. "Do I look okay? Oh my god what if the photographer gets pissed at me for fucking up? What if I look like shit at every picture? What i-" I cut him off right there. First of all no one is allowed to think that my boyfriend looks like shit, even if the one thinking of that is my own boyfriend, so I decided to tell him that.

"Shhh, l'ange, that's the least of your worries right now! You always look attractive, even when you're not trying to, and you're very photogenic. I'm always a little jealous about that, then I remember that you're also mine, my perfect, attractive, photogenic boyfriend." Engulfing him in a hug, and pulling him on top of me. He smiled cutely and pecked my lips with his own, then standing up and tugging at my wrist.

"C'mon then, we wouldn't wanna be late and piss off the photographer before it even starts" he uttered, suddenly excited. "Jacky I can't wait when one day, this band will be so famous, and I can finally be famous enough to let the whole world know that I love you so much." My heart melted at that, and I can't help but inhibit him again in my infamous bear hugs. How did I get so lucky? Cliché question I know. "Mon ange" I said, my words muffled by his teased hair. He giggled and indicated that "Jack! You're ruining my hair, it took me hours to style it this way," pulling away from my hug and continually pulling at my wrist, beckoning me towards him.

"Fine" I blurted out in mock hurt, pouting and doing my ever so famous 'puppy dog eyes.'

"Awwww, y'know I love you"

"I love you too, now let's get going slowpoke, I don't wanna be late and piss off the photographer before it even starts." Imitating his voice in an exaggerated way, already running to the car, leaving Alex jaw slacked and dumbfounded. "I FUCKING HATE YOU JACK!" He yelled from my house, while I was laughing my ass off.

I didn't notice I was getting teary eyed, and I tried, I really did try to hinder my crying, but in the end I'm sobbing uncontrollably. I parked my car right next to the playground, and bawled my eyes out. Memories and flashbacks of when we were happy, and care free. I was crying mercilessly that I didn't notice the truck racing towards my direction, I was so lost in my mind that I didn't notice the blinding headlights and the beeping of his horn, until there was a crash, then everything was abruptly submerged into pitch-black.

I woke up laying in my bed, in my flat in L.A. in a state of confusion, slightly remembering that I was suppose to be in Baltimore, crying beside some old playground, and getting hit by a truck. Then I felt something shift beside me.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?" I basically shouted, seeing the sleeping figure beside. Someone was beside me, in my bed, and it's not just some anybody, it's me, as in it's actually me, or I have some kind of unknown reunion with a long lost twin.

But it seems my boisterous yelling didn't wake me or my twin, whichever. I tried to poke his forehead but my fingers just got pass through him. In utter shock, I pulled my hand to my chest as if I got burned, noticing how my hand, or every part of my bad, even my cloths were looking a bit translucent, but not completely invisible. I looked at where my alarm clocks supposed to be and saw that it was almost 7 am. The time where said alarm clock, will make a torturous noise, and will hopefully wake the mysterious and good-looking man beside me.

Finally after seconds of deliberation, I finally concluded I'm bored. Standing up and trekking the familiar household, going to the kitchen I tried to open the fridge, but as I comprehended, my hand gone past through, it's like I'm a ghost, maybe I am. I mean I did got into a car accident, and it wouldn't really surprise me if I'm dead, and my soul got sucked into this apartment with no explanation whatsoever. I gave up, after trying for the millionth time, and frolic to my bedroom, surprisingly in a good mood, even if I don't understand what the fuck is going on, at least this confusion is an escape to my problems. Seeing my look-alike still snoring with no worries, I'm envious of the guy really, same good looks, same good talent, same good life, but it looks like he has no problems while I do, we have the same life but he looks so peaceful, that's what sleep does to you, it can make you forget and dream freely into oblivion.

Unceremoniously, the alarm clock shrill loudly, waking up the seemingly peaceful man. In annoyance he picked up the alarm clock and threw it outside the room.

Huh, this seems familiar.

Then it fucking clicked, this isn't some long lost twin, or some bullshit like that. This is actually me. This is the memory when I found out Alex is finally engaged, the day I got an Instagram notification of Alex posting the picture of them kissing, the day I've got fans rubbing it in my face that Jalex is never gonna happen again, the day I've finally gotten the message that Alex doesn't want nothing to do with me. I don't know why my mind decided to relive this memory, but I sure as hell don't wanna reminisce this again. The other me caught my attention with him getting his, or my phone.

Fuck this shit, I don't wanna see this, but I was too late to run away from my own nightmare. I heard myself cry a muffled 'NO' then being repeated again, and again, with an agonized voice. I looked at myself sympathetically, knowing what his feeling right now, the crushing feeling tearing him apart inside, killing him so slowly, the feeling of treachery from your own best friend. I wanted to comfort myself so badly, knowing how alone he's feeling, I was once in his place and I wanted someone to be there for me, even to just give me a brief hug, but I was just too terrified to ask anyone, so I grieved in silence, just like how his doing.

Seeing myself sobbing is painful, it's like seeing your own child being hurt. What hurts more is that I can't do anything to help myself, in both ways. He was starting to hyperventilate with his crying, him burying his face in his comforter isn't the best idea either, but I really couldn't judge him, I've done the same thing.

I told him one thing that I know for sure. "You're gonna get through this Jack." I said to myself, and as if he heard me, he looked at my direction quizzically, with tear-stained cheeks, astonished at the other me's reaction, I tried to walk over to him, but I was being pulled. Not like the way that it's keeping you from moving, but the feeling of being woken up from a deep dream. Maybe I'm finally gonna get out of this hell hole, but maybe not.

The last thing I remember is me crying in my car, parked beside that old playground. I know for a certain that I'm not at my car anymore, and I can hear a beeping sound like the one from the hospitals. I can also hear muffled voices, one sounding distressed, and the other sounding sympathetic and concerned, I wanted to move or at least open my eyes but I can't.

"Don't know ...... wake up, days ..... months"
"...... do something! ........ everything"
"..... sorry ..... only waiting ...."

Then the voices were gone. Leaving me all alone yet again. Always alone.

Notes

If you don't know the French language,
L'ange = angel
Mon ange = My angel