The Degradation

Chapter 13 - part four

"Each of his tears is like torture to me. It breaks me from the inside. I can't watch him cry. His eyes are not made for tears, they are made for smiles." – Harry

Song: Keith Urban - Tonight I Wanna Cry

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I knew he couldn't do it. I knew it wouldn't be easy. I knew it would be hard for him to admit a fail, but... But I would like him to react differently. It's Sunday night and I haven't seen him since we fell asleep together on Friday. He just disappeared. As always.

After I woke up, I lay in his bed for another three hours before I realized he wasn't coming back. He probably needs to be alone... I'm even a little disappointed. But no, I'm not disappointed, it just hurts. I was hoping we'd get through this together. I wanted him to understand that I would always be there for him and that I wasn't going to leave. I know if I were in his shoes, I'd want to be alone, too. But it's stronger than me, I can't help but worry about him. I hate it when he feels bad. He stopped replying to my emails, and I had a terrible urge to call him. But I never did. Don't know. It's not us. We've never called each other before, and I'm not going to do it now. It's stupid because a simple phone call can calm me down, but... no. This seems too strange. And if he doesn't answer my letters, it's because he doesn't want to talk, and I don't want to force him. But right now, I really need to talk to him. Ask him how he's doing, just to keep from going crazy. Sitting on my bed with my computer in my lap, I look at the last email I sent. "33". I sent it back at noon, and still haven't received a response. I hesitate for a few seconds before I start typing.

"I don't know if you'll answer, but I just wanted to say..."

That Friday night was one of the best nights of my life. I liked the restaurant you took me to. I liked how jealous I was of the waitress because you mean a lot to me. I liked the way you held my hand and hugged me. I liked our pancakes, despite the fact that the seller ran out of chocolate chips. I enjoyed smoking with you, watching Asshole play in the garden. I loved every moment I spent with you. I loved falling asleep in your arms. So... here. Even though you weren't there when I woke up, I don't want you to be mad at yourself. Because I'm not angry. I loved it, and I still love spending time with you, and... and I know that one day you'll be there when I open my eyes, and I don't care how long it takes, because... Because I love being with you, Harry.

"...thanks for the toothbrush."

I sigh, looking at the screen. I didn't have the courage. I chickened out at the last moment. And what difference would it make if I told him how I felt? He's not around anyway. He won't be able to answer me. I suddenly feel sad and... and so want to cry. I don't know what's happening to me. There must have been too much going on lately. I want to cry from the realization that he is in pain, and that I can't help because of fatigue, his silence, exams, pain. I'm going to lose my temper. I need to lose my temper. I start thinking about Samantha and him, and how I would feel if I were in his shoes. If he'd lost him the way he'd lost her. If I fell asleep in his arms, not knowing that this was the last time. And just thinking about it makes the tears roll down my cheeks, and I don't try to stop them. Did someone call him to tell him she was dead? How did he react? What if I got a call one day to tell me he was gone? What would I do? My heart is getting tighter and tighter. I would have passed out. My stomach tightens uncomfortably. I know it's all just in my head, but I can feel it again. This fear that something will happen to him.

"I need you."

I don't even know why I'm writing this to him because I know he won't answer, but... I need him. Now. I need him to calm me down, to get these terrible thoughts out of my head. I don't want to think about it anymore. I need to be in his arms. I need to feel his presence. Only he didn't show up for a few days. I don't have the strength to wait for an answer that won't come, so I turn off the computer, putting it on the floor before rolling myself in the bed. I really don't know what came over me. I've never cried like this before. I've never felt so bad. I barely have time to try to calm down when my phone starts ringing. His name flashes on the screen, and I start to cry even harder. I can hardly speak when I pick up the phone.