//TW: swearing, PTSD, verbal abuse and manipulation\\

Basically James. Should I just make that a trigger warning?

Thomas

I drew in the subtle softness of the morning light, letting the cool, refreshing air fill my lungs. I basked in the pastel colors of the sky painted by the sunrise, taking in the dawn for everything it was. My fingers drummed against the windowsill, and I turned to the bed, staring at the empty space greeting me. It had been cold. Lonely.

Even in my sleep I had longed for somebody to touch me, to hold me. A flash of an image passed through my mind, a smile barely just recognizable before the image blurred and fled, leaving me empty, leaving me alone.

Something in my stomach tightened but I didn't dare acknowledge it, especially not when such things were so much easier to handle when they were put down. Killed like weeds before they could ever bloom. I flattened my hands against the windowsill and drew in another breath of the morning air, before closing the window and turning my back to a beautiful, vibrant sky. Color had slowly regained its meaning, once more finding purchase in a world that had once been black and gray and white.

I stepped through my bedroom, watering my growing collection of the plants that added that splash of life, that richness of green ivy and colorful flowers. It was freeing, to have those plants again. They were the one thing I had to look forward to now, my plants, and I gave every bit of myself to them in return for the shelter and the comfort they provided with their mere presence. They thrived under my care, under my touch, the one thing I didn't ruin with my love.

But all the while I tried to tend to the rudiments of a garden giving the room a distinct feel that reminded me of everything that had happened before-James, the dream from the night before haunted me. It came in blurs and snippets and bursts of violence, hardly recognizable now that daylight had come and pierced holes through its darkened veil. But still, I could clearly picture that one face I had come to depend on, that one face that meant more to me than any song, any flower, any temporary pleasure, that one beautiful face with a curled sneer and eyes shadowed by a hatred that couldn't be dreamed up.

My fingers tightened around the watering can and I forced myself to put it down. My hands shook. I stood there for an impossibly long moment, staring out the window and at the tendrils of ivy that draped down the wall.

Oh, what would it like to be a plant? The only constant and the only truth being life. Everything else doesn't matter. Everything else is independent of you and your existence. You are you and that is it.

In.

I relaxed, letting my eyes fall shut, and conjured up Alexander's smile. It wasn't hard. It never would be. Alexander was real and perfect, and no fabrication would ever be enough to corrupt him or the way I saw him. He was the sweet relief of darkness, a gentle, cool breeze on an intolerably hot day. He was rain and peace and happiness, and there was nothing strong enough in this world or the next that could ever touch that.

I am here. Nowhere else but here. And there is nowhere else I need to be. Because as long as I have Alexander, nothing can hurt me.

Out.

I needed to take a walk.

I changed quickly, slipping on my favorite sweater above a black long sleeved shirt and simple jeans. It was comfort, and although there had once been a time where I chased after something more, that part of me was dead. The reflection in the mirror stared back at me, and for once, it had nothing to say. I combed through my hair still ruffled by sleep, placed my phone in my pocket, and drifted through my apartment. My home.

It still felt weird to say; I hadn't really had a home in four years. And yet, as the days flitted by, the thought of it wrapped around me like wisteria around an old, marble statue. It kept me close, promising never to let me go. I liked that. I liked having a place to call my own.

I liked him.

"Thomas?" croaked a tired voice just as I reached the door. I glanced over my shoulder to see Alexander sitting up on the couch, blinking the sleep away from his eyes, the throw blanket he slept under discarded to the side.

I cast him a small smile, my hand circling around the golden knob. The cold metal stung my skin, but the sight of the sleepy boy trying to get a grasp on the world around him completely quelled any pain, any discomfort. And every remaining fragment of last night's nightmare disappeared like a thick swath of mist evaporating in the warm, morning sun. "Good morning, Alexander," I said.

"Where are you going?" he said with a small yawn, which he tried to hide behind his hand.

"I'm just heading out for a walk," I said softly, dropping my hand from the doorknob and going to join him. A relieved smile flickered across his face as he edged backwards, allowing me room to sit.

I wanted to.

I wanted to sit and I wanted him to hook his arms around me and never let go, just as he had first done a week ago and almost every day since. He had held me so close to him, so close that I felt like I had never truly known what it was like to be held. His touch had been soft and it had stayed with me since I had first woken up with us like that, a memory murmured in the back of my mind by some traitorous voice every time I had so much as looked at him.

It was a simple desire. And yet, so impossible.

I wanted to sit but I decided against it, glancing away as he searched my face.

He doesn't need you.

"Want me to—" He paused to yawn. "Come?"

"No, no. It's okay, Alexander. You need sleep. You were up late last night."

Up late last night with John. I don't know what the two of them had been doing, but they had been gone for quite a while. It wasn't hard to picture them laughing, smiling, genuinely happy to be in each other's company. And when Alexander returned, he had seemed so... light. Like the weight of the world had let go of him for those few short hours, giving him the chance to fly. So it didn't feel right to pry in on that, to steal away what little time they could manage to spend together. It didn't matter how I felt, how I wanted to lock myself in the bathroom and stay there until the entire world crumpled and returned to the nothingness it had been born of. They had each other. And I would be both selfish and stupid to try and take that away from them.

Alexander had John and therefore, he didn't need me.

He doesn't need you.

"I wanna go," he whined, pulling me down to the couch anyway and pressing his head against my arm. "I'll be lonely without you."

"I'm sure that's not true." The words came out a bit harsher than I intended.

A frown creased his lips. "Whaddya mean?" Alexander pushed himself away, gripping my arms softly but firmly.

"I just...you really should go back to sleep. I'll be fine, don't worry."

"I always worry," he whispered, his gaze searching mine. God, I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle the unbridled concern. The tenderness. The affection. He looked at me as if I was the only person he had ever truly seen, as if I was the only person he had ever grown to care about. It warmed my chest just as it dried my mouth and churned my stomach.

I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve any of his kindness. I would ruin him, just as I ruined James. That's all I was good at. Taking good things and turning them into something evil, something to be feared.

I forced myself to smile as the frustration and self-hatred built in the back of my throat, burning away with an uncontrolled ferocity. It wouldn't stop.

"Tell me you know that."

"Know what?"

"That I always worry." He had no idea what he was saying. If he had, he wouldn't have cared.

"I—I know."

How could I not?

The intensity in his gaze softened, and his fingers traced down the length of my arm until they found my hand, partially obscured by the oversized sleeve. He pushed it back and entwined his fingers into mine. My heart skipped a beat as he let out a softened sigh, content just to be holding me.

Or at least, that's what I told myself. But the truth of the matter was that he would never need somebody like me. Not when he has somebody like—

Stop it. Enough with the self-pity.

I smiled softly, pulling my hand away before I could let the warring thoughts continue to thunder through my head. "Yeah, you need to go back to sleep. I'll be back soon, I promise."

He doesn't need you.

Alexander blinked, then glanced back up at me. Without warning, without saying a single word, he slid his other hand against my cheek and held my face so lightly, so tenderly. I had never been touched the way he touched me before. I had never been cared about the way he cared about me before.

A pang of longing, so sharp and fierce and uncontrollable, flashed through every last part of me. It rose like the sun, heralded by a sky of the most beautiful colors, nurturing an entire solar system, the giver and taker of life. And just like the sun, it would inevitably explode, and plunge everything into an intense, unending darkness simply because it could.

But, despite my better judgement, despite my experience and my past and every little bit of me that made me who I was, I let Alexander hold me. I let him hold my face and I closed my eyes, drawing in the moment for everything it was. Words lingered on my mouth, words that begged to be spoken life into.

I wanted Alexander.

"Be careful, okay? I care so much about you."

"I know."

He was the first to draw away, seconds later. He left me dizzy and swaying and trying to tether myself back to my body as my soul floated up and up and up, released into the open, endless sky as his soft sentiments washed over me.

Alexander laid back down and pulled the blanket back over his body, blinking up at me with a knowing smile. "Have fun."

I returned the smile. It was all I could do. "You too."

He laughed. "I'll see you later." A few seconds later, and his chest fell back into that rhythm of sleep, up and down slowly and carefully. I blinked at him, rising to my feet. He hadn't been aware of what he was saying. Come two or three hours when he wakes up again, he'll have forgotten all of this had ever happened. He is free to play with my feelings in any way he wants, because he doesn't even realize he is.

He doesn't need you.

I sighed, watched him for a few more seconds just to see what would happen, then stuffed my hands inside my pockets and left him, grabbing my bag still sitting by the door as I walked away. I'm sure John will come by later, anyway, and the two of them will have each other again, without me to step in on something that was better left between them. They'd both be happy again, and Alexander's happiness is really the only one that matters to me anymore.

The streets were strangely quiet. It was nice though, I wasn't going to lie. I breathed in the air, smiling as the cold breeze chilled my arms. It was a perfect morning, as perfect as New York City could get. I allowed myself to relax as I walked through the streets unburdened by large crowds. Most people were no doubt enjoying their early Saturday morning in the comforts of their beds. So I had the world to myself. Sometimes it was nice, being the only thing in a sea of nothingness. The world was mine, and I could shape it how I chose. I could fill it with whatever I wanted and take away all the monsters and terrors and whatever else I feared.

But of course, the morning was marred by those relentless, pathetic thoughts whispering through my mind, reminding me exactly why happiness was something I'd never find again. I tried to drown the voices out with a song. Any song. But they never dispersed, they never left me alone. They were a part of me, for better or for worse, and there was nothing I'd ever be able to do about it but accept it and continue to deal with them.

It wasn't fair.

I slipped through the city streets with my head down, my legs carrying me to the park I had walked through so many times with Alexander. I could still hear the echoes of our random conversations whispering through my mind. I'm sure Alexander had forgotten all of them already, every last quip and laugh and every piece of what made Alexander, Alexander. But I couldn't forget. I never wanted to. I clung to every memory I had with him like I would never get the chance to make a new one.

The park was quiet, desolate, and lonely. But, God, I loved it.

I walked along the same path I had so many times before, eyes closed as I listened to the birdsong flitting through the trees, prevalent and beautiful even as winter gripped the city with its cold claws. I envied the birds, in a way. They had the two things I wanted more than anything else in the world: the ability to fly and the confidence to sing.

The water fountain continued to gurgle exactly as it had the first day I had laid eyes on it, and my heart skipped a beat at the thought. A small smile slid across my face, and it felt strange smiling for myself, but I couldn't shake the memory of Alexander's unquestionable, unwavering kindness simply for the sake of being kind.

Every morning, even after three weeks, I still wake up with the sudden and fleeting worry that everything had been a dream. That it was some inane imagining that would disappear into an unspoken abyss the second I faced the real world, the nightmare that had become my reality.

And every morning, when the surroundings of my bedroom, my home, sunk in, I felt safe. Happy.

It was so peculiar how four years of pain and heartache and misery are absolutely nothing when compared to three weeks of love.

It had only been three weeks but it felt like a lifetime. An eternity.

I slid down to the ground, back pressed against the cold stone, and drew my sketchbook out from my bag. I flipped through the pages, careful not to tear the paper, until I landed on the most recent drawing that had consumed all of my time, all of my thoughts. I stared at it for a second, frowning, withdrew a pencil, and set to work.

I wouldn't stop until it was perfect. I couldn't.

So I sat there for an immeasurable amount of time, listening to the soft gurgling of water recently thawed, the soft scratching of the pencil against paper, and the delicate birdsong floating through the park. It was all I had and it was all I needed, this peace carried with the early morning breeze. The earth was still fresh and raw, and the day was just beginning. There was boundless potential, all waiting to be turned into something gorgeous.

I worked carefully, treating the drawing with the respect it warranted. I did everything I could to perfect the shading, the subtle hints of color, but I never would be able to completely capture the look in his gaze. The one of warmth and tenderness, so unfairly unique to a boy who had only recently remembered I existed. There were some things that could never be recreated. Some things were just too perfect to be imitated by a human hand.

I don't think I ever stopped smiling once though, as I worked on the drawing of a boy whose happiness meant more to me than anything, even my own. It stole away all of my breath, all of my attention, leaving me craving more. I would have spent hours there, the grass tickling my legs and the cold stone pressed against my back, living for the moment, when a cold, hard laugh set the world on fire.

Oh.

"Seriously?"

My head shot up as the voice washed over me, ringing loudly in my ears.

No.

I stared at him, my ability to speak failing me when I needed it most. And James stared right back at me, watching me with a hardly restrained smile, as if he couldn't believe everything that had happened to us. To him.

"Wh-what are you doing here? H-how did you—how did you find me?"

James rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Thomas. There isn't anywhere you can go where I won't find you."

"Why can't you ever just leave me alone?" I begged, every ounce of happiness and content withering up inside of me and burning to ash like a flower exposed to an open, uncontrolled flame. The mark of bravery I had managed to find in that small moment disappeared the second he pinned me under that intense, unrelenting glare. I shifted my legs underneath my body and edged away from him, every instinct inside of me screaming at me to run away as fast as I could and leave him behind.

"I think we both know the answer to that question, Thomas. You need me."

That might have been true. But I did not want him.

James stepped forward. "I just want to talk to you. That's all. I won't touch you, this time. Not if you don't want me to."

"Please don't come any closer," I whispered, hardly loud enough for myself to hear it.

James blinked at me, as if considering, then raised his hands as if to say he would, for once, do as I asked. And he didn't step forward. He didn't so much as waver.

I allowed myself to relax as much as I could have in his presence, which wasn't a lot.

His gaze drifted downwards, finding my sketchbook. A cold sensation of fear filling my face and freezing my blood, I scrambled to close the cover, but he had already seen it. He had glimpsed it for everything it was and everything I had hoped it could become. He had seen the unspoken feelings poured out into a simple drawing of graphite and lead, and he had decoded every last message and emotion, for they were not discreet. They were not hidden.

That drawing was the truth.

James laughed. Such a cold noise. Such an empty noise. How could something meant to express humor and joy be so flat and uncaring?

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he said as it finally died, throwing the world into a clammy silence. Oh, how the song of the birds had ended in the wake of this intruder who was never satisfied until he tore anything good to pieces, just so the world was just as bad and as bleak as he was. "You think Alexander gives a shit about you? You think you matter at all to him?"

"I don't—I mean, I—" And just like always, I was speechless, defenseless, helpless when it came to James and his barbed attacks aimed specifically to break me. And the worst part of it all was that he was right.

He was always right.

James sighed, shaking his head in utter disbelief. "I don't know what you're expecting, honestly. How many people have you hurt? When is it enough for you?"

I should have been strong enough to respond. I should have been strong enough to come up with at least something. But I wasn't. I'd never be. Instead, I let him take. I let him and all those unavoidable thoughts creep forward and pluck the entire world away from me until there was nothing left for them to steal.

James approached me, each step slow and careful. "Stop being an idiot. You are so much smarter than this." At my silence, he rolled his eyes, kneeling down in front of me and reaching forwards. He held my face in his hands, and it took all of my power not to flinch away and let him see that he had won. His skin was so cold, so unfairly cold. James sent pinpricks of discomfort dancing down my skin, and he fixed me under that unmoving gaze, the wall of ice and stone never cracking, never allowing any emotion through. There was nothing when you looked at James. Just cold, hard, truth.

He was light. Blinding, unrelenting, light. A light so pervasive and haunting that no matter how hard you tried, it would always find you, and it would always take away all it could until you had nothing. It was not a gentle sunbeam you could bask in. It was the harsh glare of flickering florescence.

But still, he was soft. Not tender, not careful, but soft. And even in those stony eyes usually bearing no emotion whatsoever, I saw a flicker of something human. I lost myself in the moment, like a deer staring in headlights, trapped in his gaze. My limbs went numb and my mind useless.

"Come on, Tommy. I can't lose you," he said, voice sweet like sugar. But that's how you catch flies, with sugar. You draw them in, and when they've finally let their guard down and embraced the only semblance of love they could ever hope to know, you steal it all away. "I was rough with you last week. I'm sorry, baby." He pulled me closer as the word slipped out of his mouth. Funny how a single word meant to express love and endearment could send those shivers coursing down my back. "It wasn't fair. And I promise you, it's not going to happen again."

"I don't—"

"Do you really think, even for a second, that Alexander would ever want somebody like you? Is that really what you've become? A naïve child falling for the first person who shows them the smallest hint of kindness?"

Falling for.

Oh.

Oh, no.

The meaning crashed over me like a storm surge, but even then, I couldn't fully let what he had said sink in. I couldn't, or I would drown under the impossible weight behind the implications. Still, it stole the air away from my lungs and continued to take.

James gripped my face tighter, as if worried I'd somehow slip between the cracks of his fingers. He must have been able to sense my discomfort, my fear. And he never let me go, because why would he?

"This isn't what you want, Tommy. He's temporary. He'll be gone the next time you look. The second he gets what he wants from you and—"

"Stop it," I choked out, pulling myself away. His lips pressed together tightly into a thin line, but he waited for me to finish. I didn't know much, but I knew that he had absolutely no right to talk about Alexander like this. "J-just leave me alone."

James grabbed my hand, holding it tight enough to the point where everything else in the world lost its meaning. It was me and him and nothing else. "Do you really think they're your friends? You think they give a shit about what happens to you?"

"I—"

But James pressed on before I could speak. "They aren't your friends, despite what they'll have you believe. They don't care about you at all. They pity you. They hate you, but they're all too kind to say anything. They see you as a burden, and a mess. And if you think for a second you're anything else, you're wrong."

I drew myself away, pressing my eyes together so I didn't have to see him. So I didn't have to feel the truth of the words. I closed my eyes and pretended to be blind, just like a little child terrified of the monster lurking in the shadows of their room. If you just close your eyes and ignore it, then perhaps it will truly go away.

"Nobody can love you the way you need to be loved. Nobody but me."

"Please—"

"Why do you keep hurting them, Thomas? Stay away from them. They don't want to be with you anymore. Alexander doesn't want to be with you anymore."

"That's not—"

"I can make all of this go away, Tommy. You just need to trust me." His fingers snaked down once more, finding my hand and clutching it tightly. There was no comfort to be found in his iron-like grip. He leaned closer until I could feel his breath fanning against my face, warm and sweet. "I need you. You need me. Why do you keep on fighting this?" he spoke in a husky whisper. His hand slid underneath my chin, propping it towards him, and he came close, so dangerously close that I lost every last bit of myself.

There was no Thomas, not in that moment. There was fear and ice and thorns, and nothing left of the human who had been consumed by an all-encompassing darkness.

And then, my phone went off, an alarm cutting deep through the air and ending his slow advance as it came.

James pulled away before he could shove his mouth against mine. "Show me." It was a demand, no question about it.

My hands shook as I reached for my phone, the screen reading Alexander's name as if he was, yet again, coming to save me. Hands shaking fiercely, I showed my phone to James before reading it myself.

Alexander: you in the park??

Alexander: probably haha

Alexander: don't worry i'm heading your way

James sighed, slipping away from me and rising to his feet. "Think about what we talked about, why don't you? Like I said, I can make all of this go away for good. Wouldn't you like that? For everything to just finally go back to normal?"

I simply stared back at him, unable to respond.

James cast me a smile. "I'll talk to you later. Have fun trying to explain this one to him." And even though he didn't say it, I could hear the intent behind his words, the subtle message lurking just underneath the calm surface.

Think he's going to believe you without any proof?

I watched him retreat, leaving nothing behind him but an empty shell of a boy complete with a hundred new bruises. Even long after he disappeared, I couldn't bring myself to move. To think.

All I wanted was to just finally disappear.

I glanced down at the drawing I had been working on. The graphite was smudged, the paper crumpled when he had pressed against my body. It was not the same. It would never be the same again. And what right did I have to try and recreate something so precious, to try and claim something that was not and never would be meant for me?

I tore the piece of paper out of the sketchbook, crumpled it into a ball, and shoved it back into my bag. Far down to the bottom, where it would never be graced by the light of day again.

He was right. It shouldn't have taken me this long to realize that they didn't care about me. And why should they? What have I ever given them that would make up for everything they've had to put up with? I don't deserve love. I don't deserve friends. I don't deserve Alexander.

Alexander and his impossibly bright smile always promising a better future that I didn't deserve.

There that word is again. Deserve. Does it mean anything anymore, or had it become just another one of those things that lost any sense of meaning after having been whispered about so much? What was the point? Why did it matter so much?

I smoothed my hands flat out against the grass, feeling every single blade press up against my palm. My legs shaking, I forced myself to my feet and glanced around. There was no sign of anybody, not even him. He's a ghost, disappearing into the air without leaving a single sign behind him.

Was he even real anymore? Or had the worst parts of him manifested?

I scooped up my bag, throwing it over my shoulder, and forced myself to just... breathe.

"Thomas?"

My shoulders caved in defeat as the similar voice floated over me, bathing the world in the soft orange glow of a new dawn. I stood there, my legs frozen, and glanced up at the boy standing on the trail. He flashed me a smile upon seeing me, his posture relaxing.

"There you are!" Alexander said with a grin as he walked over to join me. "Knew I'd find you here."

James's words from early echoed through my head unprompted, that small little fragment of a sentiment in particular coming back with full force. I stepped away from him, staring at him in all the same ways I had before, and yet, in a way entirely new.

No.

No this wasn't fair.

This couldn't be happening to me, not again.

No please no. I don't want this. Not with him. I could never ever do this to him how was this fair why was this happening to me he doesn't want me he doesn't want me he doesn't want me—

But his smile, and his eyes. And the way he reached forwards, touching my hand in the most gentle of reassurances, as if his world had brightened considerably with my presence. His warmth seeped into me, his pure essence preaching ideals I had thought I'd never see again.

He was the relieving darkness I so craved, cool and gentle and full of new potential, full of an equally divided love for everything that lingered there.

He was the unbending oak tree standing tall and proud in the midst of a storm, never to waver, never to fall even as lightning rocketed through the sky.

He was the crackling of a fireplace, the promises of warmth and safety and solace granted every moment you found yourself seated by the hearth.

He was everything I had clung to, every last hope and every last inch of happiness.

He was Alexander, plain and simple, and he was perfect in every definition of the word.

He was everything I had ever wanted.

"Yeah," I responded shortly, absentmindedly wiping tears away from my eyes. I don't know where they came from. I don't know which side of the war had drawn them. Perhaps it was James, perhaps Alexander. Perhaps it was both.

His expression fell in that soft way it always did, leaving the world empty and unforgivingly cold with the absence of his smile. That look of boundless concern flickered across his gaze. "Thomas... are you crying? What's wrong?"

"Sorry, I—" I cut myself off with what could barely qualify as a laugh. "I was working on a drawing, and it wasn't going how I wanted it to, and I just...lost my patience, you know?"

Alexander stared at me for a long moment, his touch against my hand faltering in the split-second of doubt. I crept further away from him, wishing that this canyon between the two of us would hurry up and widen already, just so I didn't have to see that disappointment and resignation on his face. I wanted him to become a blur on the horizon, a dot you're aware of but can never fully understand.

I did not want him to mean anything to me. It is so much harder to put this world behind when you have something left to live for. How was I supposed to move on when I was still tethered to this god-forsaken city filled with steel and broken promises by one, single, wonderful person who deserved the sun and the moon and the stars, and all the things I could never give him?

"I promise!" I said, raising my hands in defense, forcing another laugh. This one sounded a bit more genuine, for I truly was laughing at myself. My stupidity. My foolishness. My weakness. And laughing at just how quickly I had fallen for somebody new.

This was never going to last. How could it? That's the thing about feelings. They never stick around for very long. And when they disappear, they leave an empty void in their wake. A void that cannot be filled. Such is the cruelty of love and affection and joy. They're drugs you can never get enough of, and they eventually kill.

"Well, if you're sure. Can I see it, at least? It's probably far better than anything I could ever do."

I shook my head. "I threw it out. Uh, I'm sorry. I'm going to head back to the apartment. You know, I have lessons in an hour or so. It was stupid to cone out here anyway."

"It's not stupid! I'll walk you back. Wanna grab a coffee, or something?"

"Not really," I responded, wishing the world wasn't so cruel, but if there truly was somebody  out there, controlling every movement and every action, then they loved to laugh. They thrived off of cruelty and sorrow and pain. "You can totally go ahead, though. Don't let me hold you back."

"No," he said, with a soft and unsteady laugh. "It's fine! I just like spending time with you, you know?"

I shook my head, stepping backwards. Stepping away from his hand, away from his warmth. He shouldn't have to constantly provide it for me, anyway. "I, uh, actually just want some time to myself. I'm sorry, Alexander. It's not you at all."

"Wait. What do you mean?" he asked, sounding as though I had taken all his hopes and dreams and shattered them mercilessly. And for a second, I wished that was the case. I wished I was a part of the future he saw for himself. I wished I was the one thing he didn't have that would complete his world. I wished I was his hopes, his dreams, every thought he had waking up in the morning and every thought he had just before drifting off into the absolute of sleep.

He doesn't need you.

I am delusional.

Pathetic.

Afraid.

"I just need to think, okay? Why don't you go grab something without me. I just...I can't, today. That's all."

He looked so heartbroken. I looked elsewhere.

"Well, I don't wanna pressure you or anything," he finally said, softer than I could ever imagine. "Umm, I'll leave you to it, then. See you in a bit, yeah?"

I nodded, gathered my stuff together and held it as tightly as I could, and left him standing next to the fountain.

And as I walked away, an onslaught of tears slid down my face, unheralded and unwanted.

I spent the rest of the week distancing myself from him and the rest of his friends, trying to separate myself from their love before I let it fester and take hold within me. I blocked out the world they tried so hard to show me and returned to an isolation so fierce and abstract, but there's a comfort to be found in the familiar. It was easier, that way. Far easier than letting myself take advantage of their kindness. It was my only option, aside from hurting them.

But even as I kept myself away from Alexander in a desperate attempt to quash these feelings before they spread through me like mold, I still found myself staring up into the darkness during the middle of the night, woken from the worst of dreams. And I found myself wishing for him, for him to hold me and kiss me and love me and remind me that everything is going to be okay. I found myself wanting the darkness to keep us bound together like that for all eternity, each other's and nobody else's.

But just like a phoenix, the sun always rose and burned away those vivid fantasies.

It became so bad I couldn't even talk to him without wanting to tear a piece of myself out. So I stopped. I avoided him every time I could. I deprived myself of the one person who brought me comfort, and returned to the darkness I was so used to. It wasn't so bad after a while.

When it came to Alexander, I was falling. I fell senselessly and directionlessly, allowing gravity to exact its hold on me. I fell quickly and quietly, the wind raking through my hair, the sky an endless sea of blue above and below and all around me. I fell wordlessly and thoughtlessly, the world a blur and the colors losing their meaning.

I fell. And I fell hard.

And it didn't matter anyway. There was always that one fundamental truth, ever-present and unyielding.

He doesn't need you.