Tom Holland Imagines

Talking to the Moon

A/N: Hi, lovelies! Happy Wattpad Week day 2! There's a tiny angst warning for this one. 

Remember, all these imagines are based on things I imagine in my head when I hear the songs, but this one in particular is about the things I was thinking and feeling when I was in not such a good place not too long ago after I'd met Tom.

I'm okay now, I promise, so please don't worry about me, but I did have depression for a good long while and if you need help, I implore you to seek it out.

I thought it had gotten better after I'd met Tom. I thought that since I'd met him...the one constant in my life that tied me to a time when it was less tumultuous...that I could be at peace with myself. I'd lived my dream. What was there to be sad about anymore?

But in reality, meeting Tom made things slightly harder as well. Now I knew him. Now he was someone to me. And now he was a million miles away, who knows where, doing who knows what. Not even caring that I exist. And somehow that was worse than him never knowing of me at all. 

I sat at my desk, staring blankly at my textbooks. I was supposed to have been reading them, but I'd long since zoned out, thinking about the events of that day. How could none of the people who called themselves my friends have noticed I was slowly fading? I'd tried to tell them a thousand times in desperation, showing them the scabs on the back of my wrist and telling them I wasn't okay. I must have sounded like I was joking. Everyone laughed.

It wasn't just that nobody understood me. It was that nobody tried to. And the only person who ever cared in my mind certainly didn't care in real life, now.

"Tom?" I asked quietly, staring at the stars outside my window. It made me feel better to know that wherever he was in the world, we were seeing the same ones. "I miss you." I blinked some tears from my eyes and sniffed quickly. "I don't think anybody really cares if I live or die anymore. I don't even know why I'm so sad all the time. I got all I ever wanted. I met you."

Of course, there was no answer, but the lady walking her pomeranian outside my open window stopped to give me a strange look before moving on. I sobbed, embarrassed. "God. What am I doing? I'm so stupid. You can't hear me. And even if you could, you wouldn't care." I broke down in tears, tipping my chair onto its two back legs and gripping the roots of my hair.

"I'm stupid. I'm so stupid. God, I'm insane." I nearly tipped myself backwards, anxious to feel anything as I hit the floor, but my phone lit up. I quickly wiped my eyes, sniffled, and checked the notification. Instagram? I opened my phone to find that Tom had posted a story on his account. Clinging to the sliver of hope that it might make me feel better, I opened it.

"Hi, guys! Tom here," he said, looking beyond the camera distractedly for a second like he so often did in his stories. "I just wanted to let you know that you all mean so much to me. Every single one of you. I wish you all nothing but happiness because that's what you deserve and..." he paused as if trying to think of something else to say. He seemed pretty shaken. Maybe he'd had a bad day too. "And I just want you to know I love you. That's all." Tom smiled. The story ended and I stared blankly at my phone with silent tears pouring from my eyes.

Had he heard me? No...it was impossible. But somehow he'd known exactly what I'd needed to hear. I smiled weakly. Perhaps something good can come from talking to the moon.