From Dream to Reality 13.‎Does love always win? Haunted by memories of the past

Chapter 1: A Bleeding Heart

How do you say you're in love? Especially if it wasn't Daniel Jones? Not that it bothers me, oh no. I always knew I played both teams, maybe a little more than the other, if you'll pardon the sports metaphor. However, I've never known her to ever entertain the idea of looking at a guy like that, but I hope it's different because it's me and not some random stranger. Yes, I realize how selfish it is to think that it will magically change his sexuality for me, but there is this connection, this bond between us that no one else can understand.‎

Maybe I'm too optimistic. Who am I to think you'd love me back? After all, she's amazing, talented, beautiful, and I'm just me. He can be anyone he wants in the world, so who am I to think he wants me? Sure, we're best friends, but I know he's never thought of me the way I think of him. When I made the decision to tell him I loved him, I knew the consequences. Don't think I haven't thought of them. I've been waiting for this moment for years. Since I've practically known him.‎

‎I know this could end everything between us. I know it could destroy the band. I know this might make you hate me. I know he probably won't feel the same way, but at the same time I have to tell him because it's getting harder to hide. The pain overwhelms me sometimes until I think I will explode if I don't tell him. A weight was lifted off my shoulders when I made this decision. I will not lie. It felt pretty damn good not having to hide my affection from him. Not that I was good at it in the first place. I'm surprised he doesn't know how I feel about him yet. It seems so obvious to me the way I act towards him and I know Leonie and Ben know it too. They've talked to me about it and they're fine with it and told me to tell him, so if this all goes wrong, I blame them so much. After I finish stitching my heart together, this is it.‎

‎I'm just blinking now, but I'm nervous, so what else am I going to do? I could write some lyrics like I said I was going to. Everyone went out to the bar across the street to celebrate another great gig and the upcoming break, but I begged off the trip by telling them I had a song I wanted to work on. Daniel offered to stay and help me with this, but I told him to go ahead because I knew he really wanted to go out with the guys. I told him he could stop by my room when he came back if he wanted to. He said yes, promising not to be too late.‎

‎I have a blank page in front of me, the pen flutters restlessly, but the words just won't come tonight. I am too nervous and anxious and worried about how to tell him this. Should I just kick her out or should I lead her up to her? Should I tell him at all? I know you have to, but it doesn't make it any easier. I sigh, drop my notebook on the coffee table in front of me, and flick on the television. Maybe there is something here to distract me.‎

‎Five minutes later I turn it off and throw the remote next to me in disgust. There's nothing on it. Nothing that would hold my interest for more than five seconds. I lean back into the couch cushions and grumble to myself. I'm a wreck tonight and I don't know how to calm down. I have to do it before Daniel gets here.‎

‎There's a soft knock on my door and I know it's him. I freeze for a moment, wondering if I can do this, if I can tell him after all these years before I decide I better answer the door before he walks away and trips over my leg and almost runs to the door. I open it as he is about to knock again and just stare. So beautiful. Wind-blown blonde hair, emerald green eyes, sun-kissed skin, tall and slender frame. She smiles at him and asks if I'm going to call her in or just stare at her all night?‎

‎I blush and step back into the room to let him walk past me, inhaling his scent as he passes and hoping he doesn't notice. I close the door and face him. He looks at me expectantly, and for a moment I forget why he's here. Oh yes. A new song, which unfortunately does not exist for me yet. I have nothing to show him and I briefly panic.‎

‎- Daz, do you have that song you wanted to work on? - he asks, leaning his head on me.‎

‎- Um, no, not actually, I got writer's block on it. I laugh nervously, running my shaking hands through my hair.‎