🎶: 'I'm A Mess' by Ed Sheeran

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"Maaaaa!" Your son was throwing a tantrum again and you were on the brink of breaking into a rage fit. You gripped the cleaning cloth in your hand tightly, clenching your jaw.

He started telling loudly and you took a sharp breath in. "MISHA! Can you look at [y/s/n] please?!" You requested, calling out to your husband.

No answer.

You ignored your sons dramatic cries, something that helps solve tantrums, and went to your husband's study room.

You opened the door and huffed. "MISHA, I just called you? Can't you hear me?" You questioned and he held his forehead. "Please, I'm in the middle of something important," That's all he says and returns to his laptop, typing away.

You can't believe him. He is literally not doing anything these days and he's starting to piss you off.

You roll your eyes and wall out of the room, purposely slamming it to show him how annoyed you are. You walked back to your two year old who was now busy playing with his toy cars. You sighed with relief.

The Collins household has been nothing but tense for the past few months, friction amongst all three of you... but these two weeks have been the worst. Misha hasn't got any jobs to work on (Supernatural has been concluded), your car needs repairs because some psycho in a truck didn't realise that he was in the reverse gear, and your job isn't that great either.

The company you work at is going through some drastic losses and your boss has given a warning that he may have to fire you unless you can take up extra work. Of course, you agreed to doing more work... and it hasn't been treating you well at all.

You barely get five hours of sleep a day, you've gotten used to it though. Misha is in the same boat as you. The stress of not working or working too much is killing you both emotionally. On top of that, you have to take care of a two year old child who is going the 'terrible twos' phase and you have to pay the bills.

Sure, you have a role to play in this but you can't help but feel angry towards your husband. His lack of involvement is more than pissing off.

*****

You put your son to bed at 8 pm then went back to the kitchen to clean up after dinner. Misha wasn't there at dinner. He had 'important work' to do.

"Hey, sorry. I think I'm finally getting a job in this big movie," Misha told you as he entered into the living room. That for some reason didn't help to cheer you up.

"Misha, we have to talk," You said flatly and he nodded with confusion. "You've been acting a bit distant-"

"Oh Lord, please don't hit me with this 'you're distant' crap," He rubbed his face, "I thought you'd be happy to hear the news I just told." You placed a hand on your hip and looked at him with disbelief.

This is the attitude that has been bugging you... You can't take it anymore.

"Sit down Misha," You demanded and he furrowed his eyebrows. "WHY? There's nothing to talk about," He replied.

"I'm sick and tired of... this attitude you've had for the past month. You're not doing anything, it's as if I don't have a husband!" You shouted, "I've got bucket loads of work while you have nothing. Whenever I ask for your help you're either 'busy' or 'doing important work'."

He walked closer to you, standing tall and looking straight into your eyes. "Do you know how hard I've been working? I'm trying my best to keep this family together but you're just thinking of yourself!" He yelled back and you couldn't believe what you just heard.

"Excuse me?! I wouldn't have a job if I didn't take extra work! I'm slowly going into frustration and you're here pointing fingers!" You were on the verge of exploding.

Surprisingly, Misha scoffed. "Wow... I have no idea what made me fall for you. The ignorance and stubborm attitude fogged my vision," He said, stepping away form you.

"SCREW YOU Misha! You're an-"

WAAAAHHHHAAAAHHHAAAA!

You stopped, hearing your son crying. You looked at Misha with disgust then walked to your son's room. He was standing up in his crib, tears on his face.

Misha crossed his arms, then grabbed his jacket off from hanging on a chair and walked out of the front door. He was in desperate need for a walk... and a trip to the bar.

*****

A few days later...

The fighting didn't stop, rather it increased. Anything triggered both of you, You started arguing about the smallest things. It had gotten so bad that you literally thought he was going to hit you at one point.

Your son was drawing a picture with his crayons while sitting on the kitchen island. You kept glancing at his sheet, smiling are he channelled his inner creativity.

"What are you drawing sweetheart?" You asked him, running a hand through his soft brown hair. "Momma and Dada, with sad face," He told you and your frowned.

You looked closer at the drawing and heart dropped. From whatever you could figure out, it was a man and woman shouting at each other.

Tears threatened to flow down your cheeks. "Why don't you draw the plant at the window? It's growing so nicely!" You pointed at the pink flower blooming brightly. Your son smiled and walked closer to it, placing his colours and himself on the floor as well.

You sneakly took his previous drawing and rushed to Misha's study room. You furiously knocked on the door then barged inside without waiting for him to respond.

He looked at you with shock and irritation. "I told you that-"

"Shut up, please... just stop talking and listen to me," You sort of begged, walking closer to him and sticking the art work in front of his face, "Look what [y/s/n] drew. You tell me what that looks like."

You crossed your arms, waiting for a response from Misha as he stared at the paper. "It's a guy and girl... talking? So what?!" Misha ran a hand through his hair and you could have seriously slapped him.

"You're such a jerk honestly. It's a man and woman arguing and shouting! He drew us!" You yelled and Misha shook his head. "You're doing that right now, arguing, you're the one who can't chill out," He argued unreasonably.

You growled in frustration. "You know what? I think I'd be better off with one weight taken away from my shoulders... You," You stated and crumpled the piece of art work and throwing it into his face.

You stormed out of the room and rushed to pick your son up from the kitchen floor, interrupting his drawing session. He cried, he's been crying for everything, even the smallest of things. You don't blame him, everything's screwed up in your life right now.

You walked to your bedroom and locked the door. You packed all your clothes and your sons and everything else that was essential for travelling then went to his room and packed some of his books and toys. He continued to stare at you with confusion, asking questions from time to time but all you responded with was a half-smile.

You rushed to the kitchen, packing some fruits and drinks, and packing a few tea bags, coffee sachets and sugar for the road. You kept your sons favourite biscuits and grabbed the two bottles of water that were cooling in the fridge.

You ran back to your room and opened up your wardrobe, taking out your wallet and valuable jewellery just in case.

You took your luggage to the loving room and walked over to get your car keys. Misha has his own car.

"Mommy, why are we taking all this stuff with us? Where are we-"

"What the hell is going on here?"

You looked up and found Misha standing in the hallway, bewildered. You stood up, confidently, while looking at him without any change in gaze.

"I can't take this anymore, it's unhealthy to stay in this stress Misha," You told, "I'm leaving, we need to take a break. This isn't good for our health and for our family."

He ran a hand through his hair. You could feel that he wanted to break the table lamp that was next to him but was containing his anger.

"W-Why?" He asked,refusing to look at you. You chuckled, "You." He shook his head, stepping towards you.

"Daddy!" Your son ran to him and hugged his leg. Misha gasped slightly, wrapping his arms around him. He didn't want you both to leave.

"All you had to do was have some optimism and believe in us, that we could get through this," You said and he breathed out.

"You think I don't feel that? That I'm not trying to stay positive?" He argued and you just nodded. He clenched his jaw and looked at you.

"Alright fine but hey, you're the one who's leaving," He said and you smiled slightly. "And surprisingly, you're not stopping me," You responded and he stared at you, unable to react.

"Come on baby, let's go," You grabbed your luggage then your son held your hand. "Bye daddy, bye daddy, bye bye..." You son kept repeating as he watched his father tighten his fists and stare at the floor.

"[y/n] please, honey... don't-"

THUD!

You shut the door behind you, not waiting for him to finish his sentence. You stood outside the door for a few moments, listening in on the other side.

CRASH! THUMP! CLANG!

He was throwing things around in anger, things were breaking to pieces. You flinched at his yelling. He was shouting every possible curse word a person could know.

You took in a sharp breath and gripped your sons hand tighter. You walked ahead, leaving your in-rage husband in you house even though your heart ached for him as soon as you stepped out.

You still love him... He's probably the only man you'll ever love.

And he's probably the only man that would ever love you so deeply.

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Make sure to read part 2, after this!