Because I'm a dumbass, I called and texted Melissa multiple times the next day. Unsurprisingly, I didn't get a single reply to any of them. And she deleted me from her Facebook. Brutal.

I still didn't even know what I would have said if she actually did answer, or what she was doing there in the club anyway. As usual though, my friends had a few stupid theories.

"Maybe she was stalking you?" Eddie predictably suggested.

"Ignore him," Dean sighed before offering up his own ludicrous suggestion. "She probably just had a shitty day and wanted a drink."

"In a club?" I asked, sceptically. "By herself? When she doesn't drink? Yeah. I'm sure that's it."

"Didn't she tell you or something? I thought that's what couples did?" Eddie asked again, showing his inexperience in these sorts of situations.

"Well clearly we're not a couple. Or ever will be," I groaned before I lay back down on the couch and turning the music I'd been listening to back on.

"Is that Tom Petty?" Dean asked. I didn't answer, knowing that it was rhetorical. Everyone knows Tom Petty.

"Oh dude, you are far too young for that to be your break up song!" Eddie told me with a pitiful expression.

As cringey as it was, I really was "Free Fallin'" As the singer put it.

Can you have a break up with someone if you weren't officially dating? I felt like I'd been asking myself this same question for months now, with a slightly different wording every time. I still didn't have an answer but right now it didn't matter.

"Leave me alone!" I wailed to no one in particular.

I now understood Dean's frustration when Eddie and I first started our crusade with him. I knew better than anyone that whatever they did, they were only trying to help. But I didn't want help. I wanted to sit there, pissed off and depressed for a little while until I was ready to crawl out of my own shell. But at the same time, I still wanted them to be around. Just in case.

Thankfully, they seemed to get it without me telling them. Eddie and Dean spent the whole weekend in the apartment just doing their own thing.

Eddie used Fetch like it was his last night on earth while binge watching Sons of Anarchy in the living room in a bid to get me focusing on something else. It didn't work, but it was a good try.

Dean meanwhile, was writing like a maniac. Every time I saw him he had either his laptop, cell phone or a notebook with him. He also spoke some lines out loud which was a little freaky at first but you get used to it. I was curious to finally find out what his story was about because with no context, his ramblings made absolutely no sense.

I even tried to use my sad state of life to gain sympathy and get a sneak peak of what he had written, but he held out. The bastard.

Every so often I would try and get a hold of Melissa again but I still wasn't getting anywhere. I even tried asking one of her friends, but all that succeeded in doing was making me look like a creepy stalker. I'm not, by the way.

This pattern continued on for a whole week, without fail.

Wallow, work, try Melissa, wallow, sleep, repeat.

You may be surprised to hear this, but it wasn't helping me get any better.

"He's sick in the head. Mentally unstable," I heard Eddie say to Dean.

I was once again sprawled out on the couch in the dip that had formed in the shape of my body. This item of furniture was mine now.

"Why?" Dean replied, probably shrugging.

"He's watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall."

"And? It's a great movie. Breakup film for dudes, everybody knows that," Dean argued.

"He's watched it every night this week. If I see this shit one more time, I'm gonna lose my mind. I don't even like it and I know it off by heart. Word for word," Eddie moaned.

"You don't like it?" Dean asked in shock.

"Overrated."

"Guys!" I yelled from my new residence. "Can you keep it down please? I'm trying to silently brood."

"Yeah and you look like an asshole," Eddie said curtly. "What's with you? You're never like this."

"Melissa was the one, man!" I said, sitting up animatedly. Normally I wouldn't have been so eager to talk about my current state but Melissa was a special case. "She was the one I was gonna settle down for, you know? She was special."

This was why I don't like talking about things. It doesn't help at all. It just makes you feel even sadder.

"I thought that about Christy," Dean shrugged, "And I'm fine."

"No offence, but Melissa shits all over Christy."

"Well there's an image," Eddie whispered yet still, we all heard.

"I know you don't want to hear this," Dean started again. His tone told me that despite what he'd just said, he was going to tell me anyway. "But you don't really have any right to feel like this. This is all your own fault."

"Do you think I don't know that?" I snapped. "Thank you captain fucking obvious. It doesn't mean it doesn't suck though."

"Well can't it suck somewhere else?" Eddie asked. "The only thing that's getting sucked around here is my will to live when I look at you right now. You're bringing me down!"

I didn't know then if Eddie was being a dick or if he was being fair. Either way, I lost my shit with him straight away.

"Bringing you down? Are you kidding me? This is even partly you're fault!"

"How?" He gasped.

"Because you're you! You're always leading us astray and trying to get us to do dumb shit when you know it's not what we want to do! That might have been funny when we were eighteen or even twenty-one. But not now! Just because you don't want to grow up, doesn't mean we don't!" it was only then that I realised I was standing up now and right in his face.

"Uh . . . guys . . ." Dean spoke, trying to diffuse the situation by getting in the middle of us, but Eddie's fire was well and truly lit now and he simply shoved him back before responding to my insults.

"Is that what you think huh? Haven't you ever considered things the other way?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you two always trying to act like my god damn parents! Just because you want to be old and boring and loved up or whatever, doesn't mean that I do! Yet you are constantly trying to get me to be mature, be smart, be normal. It's not me! And besides, it's not my fault that you shit yourself every time things get too real for you. Just because I suggest something, doesn't mean you have to do it. If I told you to go and stick a fork up Dean's ass, would you do it?"

"I hope not," Dean muttered after another feeble attempt at breaking up the escalating argument.

"That's not what's happening here," I scoffed.

"That's exactly what's happening here!" He argued. "You've been making this big song and dance about how you're going to settle down. About . . . about how mature you're gonna be and how much you love Melissa but its all just talk! If you want to be a grown up, then you should start acting like it instead of blaming everybody else when things go wrong for you. You think that I'm the one being an asshole here but you're wrong. You're the one who's being an asshole!"

And then I punched him in the face.

I'd done it before the thought had even crossed my mind but I still knew the reason why I'd done it. I hadn't punched him because he was being a dick. I punched him because I knew that he was right.

"What the fuck!" Eddie yelped as his hands shot to his nose. Thankfully there wasn't any blood seeping through the gaps between his fingers.

"Dude, that is not cool," Dean told me, this time forcing me back for real. I don't know if I was too shocked to fight back now or if he'd suddenly gained super strength. Either way I was glad because I knew that if Eddie got his hands on me now, he'd rip my head off.

I decided that the best thing for me to do was to get out of dodge for a while, so that we could both calm down.

So like the mature, grown up adult that I am, I pushed Dean off me and stormed out of the apartment and left them both staring at the empty doorway in disbelief.