antidote | h.s.

15 - we found each other in the dark

ashton mackenzie

I can't believe I fucking cried. 

I never cry. Especially not in front of practical strangers. 

Well, I don't know if I can consider Harry a stranger, but he's definitely not on the imaginary list of people who it's okay to cry in front of. That list comprises of Nova and maybe, maybe, Drew, on a bad day. 

Not  Harry, and not the person I'm on a first date with. 

It was going so well, too. We were talking and opening up a bit, and holding hands, and I was feeling comfortable, and then I had to go ahead and cry because he took a picture of me. 

That's the thing, though. I didn't cry for the normal reason I would when I look at a picture of myself. I cried because of the exact opposite reason. I really liked it. 

I felt pretty, and I haven't felt that way in a really long time. I feel really dumb for crying about that in the first place, but even more dumb for doing it in front of Harry. He really is an amazing photographer, I will admit. The way he used the sun behind me rather than as the head-on lighting was really cool. I guess it is his job to be good at that, though. 

I brushed off the discomfort of my breakdown by asking for his opinion on which ring I should get. He didn't really give me his opinion, but he said the purple one was his birthstone, so I picked that one. It's not like I picked it only for that, but I also do like the purple one. It's pretty. And it's not like I could have bought the other one after he said it was his birthstone, because then it would look like I was getting the other one just because the other one was that. 

God,  I'm overthinking again. On of these days, this is going to bite me in the ass. 

Regardless, I got the ring. That and the lanyard are the only things either of us got, and I'm still kind of in shock that he bought that for me. I do really like it, and now that he's the one that got it for me, I like it a lot more. Even if whatever this is ends badly, it'll be a good memory of this time where I feel good. When I feel like I deserve to feel. 

I'm surprised he didn't get anything else, but I suppose he just didn't see anything he liked, which sucks. I wish I was as intuitive as him to be able to pick up if he liked anything so I could buy it for him, like he did with me. I'm just not the best at that. 

Maybe that's what he needs, though. I'm not sure if I can be that for him, but does that mean this won't work out? I can try to change, to be more like that. I just don't even know what I don't know--

Jesus, Ashton.

This is what I mean about biting me in the ass. My brain is going to ruin this shit for me. 

I really can't help it. The intrusively of every thought I have is probably one of my worst qualities, which is saying a lot, because there aren't a lot of good ones. I just don't know how to slow down the hamster wheel happening in my brain, and the rodent on it up there must be a fucking D1 athlete, because it never stops going. The fucker. 

I have to force it down, though. Especially tonight. I can't deal with my mood being shit on simply because my brain made something up and I hurt my own feelings. We're currently back in the car. We made the trip back and then he pulled up the GPS to find this diner that he swears by. I told him I didn't mind being out late, because, honestly, if I'm tired tomorrow because I was out with him tonight, then it's more than worth it. 

Traffic on the way out has been a little bit worse than the way in, but not nearly as bad as it would have been a few hours earlier. It is only about eight o'clock.