Hypnotised (Magnets Book 2)

Chapter 27

Phil's POV

After Dan took off, I didn't know how to feel, really. I quickly excused myself and said goodbye to his mum, and left his house. However, I did not travel to my own. My feet took me to the park, the one where I'd met that girl, Catherine. It occurred to me that I'd never gotten her phone number.

Some things were never meant to last.

My thoughts were buzzing like angry wasps. I needed to re-evaluate a lot of things, and just think for a while, despite my chemotherapy-induced headache.

I sat on the cold, hard wood of the park bench, and saw the initials carved into the woods. F+G. I wondered who F and G were. I wondered if they were ever in love. I wondered if it was just a summer fling, a short and spontaneous burst of mutual love, a match that flared and then burned out.

Maybe that was what Dan and I were. Maybe we were burning out, maybe the love wasn't there anymore. I knew I still loved him, but did he love me back? Were the feeling mutual?

I'd thought I knew who he was. After all, he'd shown me so much of him, bared his skin for me, let me into the darkest corners of him mind. Yet, there seemed to be some corners he'd left untouched by even himself, that I had yet to stumble upon.

The very essence of who exactly Dan Howell was was becoming an enigma; a puzzle so complicated, so intellectually challenging that not even I, the one who had seen so much, could never solve it. Unless he let me see the answer, the chances of which very small as he barely knew the answer himself.

And so I came to the conclusion that he was feeling confused and guilty and scared. Confused because he was guilty and scared. Guilty because he was scared and confused. Scared because he was guilty and confused.

He was scared of hurting. Wether is was me or himself, the latter being more likely, he was afraid. So he was stepping back, saying 'I don't want to hurt anyone' and leaving. Because he didn't have the courage to tell anyone that he was afraid. Didn't have to courage to help anyone help him. He was afraid of letting me in, of letting me see his soul laid out for me, and scared that it would make me leave him.

Guilty for being scared. He oh so clearly wanted to let me in, wanted to show himself to me, but he couldn't. He knew I wanted to see him, and he felt like he was letting me down. Fuck, Dan. Only he could guilt trip himself.

Then he was confused because he didn't know what I was thinking and he didn't know whether I loved him or not because he was just that goddamn insecure. That had always been a major flaw in Dan's life; he needed constant reassurance of my love for him, even though he knew perfectly well that I did indeed love home very, very much. I didn't mind, I'd rather he knew I loved him than constantly doubt me.

I didn't know where we had gone wrong. Was it the decision to come out? Was it the cancer? Was it moving to London? Who would ever know?

"Hey." A voice behind me said, interrupting my train of thought. I twisted around to see Catherine, sitting down on the bench again. Her grey hair shone in the weak sunlight. "You're here again," she stated quietly.

"Well, yeah, so are you."

She nodded. "I am."

Then we fell into a silence, but it wasn't an awkward one. It was almost like an agreement.

Then she spoke again. "Why are you so sad?" Was the question that popped out of her mouth.

"I'm not sad." Was my immediate response. Deny, deny, deny.

"Yes, you are," she argued, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Why?"

"I told you, I'm not-"

"Please," she interrupted. "You've been sitting here for ten minutes, staring at nothing with this forlorn expression in your eyes and it's so obvious the entire population of India could see it."