He Is My Everything

Chapter 12

Dan's POV + Fall For You - Secondhand Serenade

Vidcon ended 4 days ago, thankfully, and there is only awkward tension between Phil and I. When we got back to the hotel, I completely isolated myself. I didn't want to be around him. I didn't want to be around anyone. We haven't kissed and we've barely even spoken to each other. Plus, we're already back in London, so you can imagine how uncomfortable the plane ride was.

Currently, I'm standing in front of my mirror. Shirtless. I look at all the scars and I ache for my blades. I haven't cut since Phil took my razors, but resisting the urge gets harder and harder everyday. I don't know if Phil had knocked or just barged in, but all of the sudden he is standing next to me. He pries my hands away from the scars that I had begun to scratch at. With both of my hands in his, he guides me over to sit on my bed.

"Dan, you have to stop itching at them. You're going to end up reopening some." He looks at me sympathetically, but all I want to do is scream at him that I want to reopen them. That is the entire point of the scratching! And I don't want his sympathy! I don't need it and all it does is make me feel like a little kid that can't do anything by himself.

But I don't. I don't yell at him, I don't talk to him at all for that matter. I just nod and get up to put my shirt back on. I pull the black material over my head and as soon as my arms are put through the holes, Phil's lips are on mine. His hands go up to my face but I don't respond. I just stand there, not moving my mouth, yet not moving away. I don't care enough. I don't have it in me to reject him all the way. Soon enough, he realizes that I'm not enjoying it. He pulls away with tears gleaming in his eyes.

All we ever do is cry. All I ever do is make people cry. I don't care enough to cry. I don't care enough to do anything anymore. I've accepted the fact that I'm not wanted here, so why can't he? Why can't he let me kill myself? That is all I want to do. He needs to let go. My suicide is inevitable. I've also accepted the fact that I'll never get better. Phil can't help me. A therapist can't help me. I can't help me.

I look back up at Phil only to see the hurt in his eyes turn to rage. He brings his hands up to his face and viciously wipes his tears away. I'm about to get yelled at. This isn't going to help me, but I'll sit here and listen to him. I deserve to be screamed at.

"Why don't you talk to me! All I've ever done is try to help, yet you still ignore me! Why? Why Dan? I don't understand! Do you not want me anymore? Did you never want me? Did you do it out of pity?" He is screaming and pacing around the room. When I don't respond to anything he turns around to face me and ferociously runs his hands through his hair. "Answer me, Dan! I deserve answers!"

I shrug. I don't know. My voice would crack if I spoke. All I know is that my depression is getting worse, and his yelling isn't helping.

"Come on! Talk to me! Yell at me! Kiss me! Anything! Please, just do something." His voice gets quieter as the anger subsides back into sadness. He drops to his knees. I can see his tears fall from his eyes and into his lap. But do you know what I do? I sit there. I don't walk over to him. I don't try to comfort him. I leave him be. Because I am selfish. The love of my life is sitting there, sobbing uncontrollably, and I don't help him. Not to mention, it's my fault that he is sad.

He gets up quickly and slams the door on his way out of my room. Only when he is gone do I begin to feel regret. I feel the heartache, the grief, the sorrow, the remorse. I lay down in my bed with a smile on my lips and tears streaming down my face. I'm crying because I probably just lost my angel, but I'm smiling because I felt something. Feeling something is such an improvement. I haven't been able to feel any emotions lately, I've been so empty. So engrossed in my depression that I got lost. But I just found my way out. The smallest hint of a negative or positive emotion was all I needed, and now I have it. I have hope. I can feel again. That thought is what puts me to sleep that night.