House of memories

Chapter 40

Tw: depression.

Tommy was getting here today. To say I was excited to see him was an understatement. I couldn't wait to hug him again and know that he was right by my side.

His plane landed at 4:00 this afternoon. With every hour that went by I became more and more nervous about his arrival.

I would be casually cleaning and then remember that I'd be seeing him again soon and my stomach would drop with excitement, but also extreme anxiety.

My house hadn't feel very warm recently, and it was a mix of clean and dirty all at once. Because I still didn't have all of my stuff back, it didn't feel as full as normal. It felt empty even if the floor of my bedroom was littered in dirty clothes and packaging of my new setup from a week ago.

This feeling of grogginess would follow me around the house, from when I woke up (which wasn't till around 3 in the afternoon) to when I fell asleep. Unless I went out the house, I felt like shit. But the only issue was, I had no motivation at all when it came to going out side unless it was going to see toby and ranboo.

I didn't want Tommy to come to my house and have to deal with this messy pit of despair that is my house.

My motivation to clean anything was low, but I had to clean. The house was a pigsty, and rather unpleasant. Tommy was arriving in 2 hours, and I had barely started.

-

It was at this moment in time that I was thankful I lived only 15 minutes from the airport. The cleaning was a mild success. It was definitely cleaner.
But not as clean as it could've been, but it's just Tommy right? He won't mind.

I grab my keys off the bench and run outside to my car and start the rather short journey to the airport.

As I got closer and closer to the airport, my pulse started to rise with every green light.

I didn't really get why I was so nervous to see Tommy. I mean he's my boyfriend, he loves me.

It's not like I've had nightmares and flashbacks to the most traumatic time of my life multiple times in 2 weeks, whilst having to inform complete strangers of those traumatic experiences. And then have to almost relive them all over again. All while being drowned in a huge amount of stress and anxiety of your career and letting down all your fans for not being there for them. It's not like that can change who you are and how you act. Especially when the person you love met you before all of this bullshit took place and they live on the other side of the planet so they don't really know that much about these changes of who you are and what you've had to go through. They'll see you as the same happy, cheery person they did before.

Totally.

My head bashes lightly against the steering wheel, the rumble of the car fits perfectly with the loud yell that leaves my lips. Tears start falling lightly from my eyes, quiet sobs escaping my chapped quivering lips.

I quietly cry as I drive down the highway. My bottom lip falling in and out of my mouth as I try to calm myself.

Shit, Saturn, get yourself together. You're seeing your loving boyfriend who has in fact been standing by you through all this bullshit, wether it be physically or emotionally. You don't need to worry, you're getting worked up over nothing.

The sobs and the quivering lips falter to a hush, the tears still just falling, one droplet at a time.

The airport comes into sight. I take deep breaths in and out to calm my self down, to get the tears to stop flowing. Plane after plane flies over head, the rumble of the loud engine shakes the car lightly with every landing.