Perspective

Chapter Seventy Seven.

"Don't be confused by my apparent lack of ceremony, 

my mind is clear.

I may be low or miles
high off in the distance, I want you near"

Song: Even when I'm sleeping - Leonardos Bride

*****

Today it's been ten days.

Ten days since I've seen Harry.

Ten days since my mother came home.

Ten days of slipping back into a feeling that I'd ever so briefly forgotten, and yet just like my mother coming home, so did that feeling.

It came back home and settled inside me, weighing my body down and fogging my mind until the days all blended together and functioning wasn't a struggle; it felt impossible.

I've been back in a bit of a slump...

What a fucking understatement.

Whilst I hadn't physically seen Harry, I've had his voice to soothe my soul even when it feels like I don't have one.

The guilt ate me alive, even more so because he tried to be so understanding about the fact I needed time to myself.

Maybe he knew the time I was having was less of a joyride and more like the time you experience for a prison sentence.

It didn't stop me mentally thrashing myself every single day, telling myself how unfair I was being and how fucking useless I am. It didn't stop how on an endless loop I'd ridiculed myself and had to fight every hour to not push him out of my life completely — tell myself that in the end it's kinder to him, to remove the burden of me all together.

He deserves so much better than this.

Without fail though, throughout the day my phone would ding with messages from him; and each night my phone would ring, with his voice spreading warmth to the cold numbness I was wrapped in.

Most nights we'd talk until I fell asleep, which is a mission in itself because my fucking insomnia came back with a vengeance.

The few days I'd worked Harry didn't come in, and I'd ask Frankie to pick up Gizmo after I'd already left for work. Sam knew I wasn't doing well, I barely spoke at work and he kind of just left me to work and tried not to pry.

I hadn't seen Frankie either, but he's used to this with me by now.

I've had many periods of falling off the face of the earth, for weeks at a time, but as long as he got some sign of life from me; he'd wait it out until I could experience people again.

This is also probably another reason to add to the endless list of why I don't get close to people, or better yet — let them get close to me. The depression dance is exhausting, and constantly having to explain that you don't not love them — that you do care, but interacting with anyone is draining a cup that's already empty.

I can barely exist with myself let alone somebody else.

Then doing the little guilt and shame sashay over the fact you're letting down the people you care about — that you can't be enough for them because breathing is too much for you.

They say misery loves company, well my misery must be fucking broken because the last thing I want when I'm like this is company.

No matter how fucking in love with that company I am...