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We're all familiar with the feeling of signing up for something we wish we didn't. That feeling makes sure guilt consumes us and eats us as a whole.

I ignored so many text messages and calls from Erza during that party. I was just enjoying myself, having no care in the world. Drinking, laughing, slurring words I wish I never said. Kissing girls I wish I never had talked to.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven shots and one bottle it took. I was celebrating my birthday, what was wrong with that? The alcohol was blocking my thoughts, I was drunk. I should've never went. I should've never said yes to all those offers, the money.

At what point did I forget that love was more important that fame or money? She must've waited a long time for me. Our much too cliché story ended in a much too cliché way.

I don't know how I had it in me to call my driver and ask him to take me home. I don't know how I walked straight, let alone talk straight.

I had my hairs messed up, the lingering smell of alcohol around me, the first few buttons of my shirt undone and a kiss stain- several kiss stains- on my face and shirt. I was a mess. Sometimes I think I should've never went back home, should've stayed at a friends house or something. After that I could've just convinced Erza somehow. Unfortunately I was not in my senses, at all.

I climbed the stairs to our apartment, I was too drunk to use the elevator, God knows where that could've took me. I fell a couple of times on the stairs, giggling like a toddler every time I did so. I spent an hour or so just trying to get the darn key inside the keyhole, but once I did, I yelled a loud "I'm home!".

The first thing I saw was Erza sleeping on the dining table with a cake that had the candles melted into the frosting in front of her. There lay a neatly wrapped present just beside the cake. I shut the door loud enough for her to wake up with a flinch.

"Jellal you're-" she stopped to stare at my drunken condition "home.". The hurt and sadness was visible on her face. It was all my fault, it had always been no matter how hard I try to push the blame away from me.

"You bet I am." I chuckled before walking towards her. I tired my best to walk straight but I was jingling around. I ended up falling on her for support. I let out a hiccup and looked at her worrisome face.

"You're drunk." She pointed out the obvious.

"No shit, Sherlock." I rolled my eyes.

"Get off of me." Erza said, her voice shaky.

"You can't tell me what to do." I said as I slid my hand around her waist.

"Jellal get off of me right now. You're drunk and I've no patience to tolerate you at this moment." Erza let a sob out.

"I'm in the mood to have some fun babe." I tightened my grip on her, whispering my drunken words into her ear, trying to sound seductive but ending up sounding like a moron. An absolute moron.

"Your drunk, your shirt is unbuttoned, you've lipstick stains. I'm wondering how much of this fun have you had for this night. You came home at three-fucking-am in a state that is forcing me to throw my ring at your face!" She yelled, tears escaping her eyes.

She was crying. When I proposed to her I promised I'd never make her cry, if I did then I'd console her. I'd be there for her everyday and anytime of the day. I was doing anything but that.

I was laughing, I was out of my senses.

"What can I say, even I can't trust myself with my three am shadow." I laughed darkly, staring at her with no pity or concern in my voice, at all.

"That's it. That's absolutely it. I can't take it anymore Jellal, you've broken me to the point where I can't pick up the pieces anymore. I said I'd mould myself and adjust to this complex life of ours, but no I can't do this anymore. I've tolerated so much- so much shit for you. I've waited for you till midnight, I've cooked for you, I've took care of you, most importantly I've been there for you!" She sobbed as she wiped away her tears from the sleeves of her shirt. Wiping away her tears was my job.

"You've never done that for me, at least ever since this fame of yours. I can't take this anymore. We're done. We're done now. You're not the same Jellal anymore, you're not my Jellal anymore." She sniffed as she took off her ring. I was flabbergasted and angry.

"You can't leave me. You're mine, you'll always be mine." I shouted at her and grabbed her wrist tightly, causing her too look at me as if I'd grew horns on my head. Mama always said never to shout at girls, always respect them even if they may not be nice to you; sorry mama, you're one of the many women I let down in my life.

"I'm not your property! I'm no ones property Jellal. You don't own me." She gritted before walking away, yanking her wrist away from my grip.

Just as she was about to exit the door I shut it with a strong force, causing the door to hit Erza before she could walk out. The scream, oh the agonising scream she let out. That cry, that scream still haunts me to this day. That scream was high pitched full of pain. The door hit her forehead, her chest, her thighs and her forearms bad enough to leave bruises-maybe even scars.

She, in between hysterical sobs, threw the ring at my face and kicked me where the sun doesn't shine, knocking me out.

At that time I lost my consciousness and the love of my life.

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