Messy Love (Ed Sheeran)

Sounds Like Depression

Barbara POV

It's been months since I've been out again. On top of that, I haven't seen Ed in a few weeks since he's promoting our new album collaboration. I should be there with him but.. I need time to myself... and he's always texting me but I can't pull myself to pour myself out to him yet. I answer dryly, and apologize. He just says it's okay, and we end our conversations like that. I hope he doesn't ever find out how poorly I'm doing. He deserves a better woman. He does.

He's probably struggling enough as it is.

I let my mind drift as I thought of him. I miss him I do, but I think I miss myself more. I can't find myself right now. And without me, there can't be him.

My phone has been on the counter the last three days, and I have felt no need to check it out. I've written a lot of music too, but it's way too personal to ever show anyone.

I began to hear the chatter outside grow louder and cameras flashing a bit... I felt my heart beat.. It better not be Ed. There's no way it could be him, he went to finish the promo in like Texas or something.

I felt a wave of guilt even saying that. Maybe it was time to talk to him about it. It hurt me to be so hurt by him, but I knew I loved him...

The banging on the door made me jump and I stood up, the lights of camera dimly showing through my curtains.

"Who is it?" I said loudly.

"It's Paul, Barbara, open this door now," he said assertively. I gulped. Here comes the wrath.

I quickly opened the door and he stumbled in, and just as he did I shut the door behind me.

"I'm sorry," I didn't even want to turn to look at him.

"Sorry is not enough, I haven't heard from you in days, had me worried, Ed, Stuart, your mom, everyone, even the public! Are you dying?" He said as he scanned me.

"Of course not," I replied with a sad tone.

"Then you're going to the Grammy Awards tomorrow," he growled as I walked to the couch and grabbed the blanket, covering myself before hurdling into the arm rest.

"I'm not going to the Grammy Awards, I don't feel good," I sighed, completely disregarding his deadpan.

"You're not dying. This will help ease your fans, Barbara, please," he sat down on the love chair beside me.

"And plus, It's not your choice, you were nominated for Song of the Year," he finished, and I grimaced. He noticed.

"Are you two really falling out? I mean, after something like that, you'd think you'd be even closer," Paul said confusingly.

I furrowed my eyebrows with his words, the reality of it being so true...

"Well, we are not," I huffed.

"You're not; I've seen Ed put his fair share of effort," Paul sat up to give a better glare towards me.

"Poor guy is trying his hardest to stay as close as he can all the while keeping the distance you want! You're pushing him away, " he began to explain, and I could hear the scowl in his tone.

I turned my back to him and cuddled more into the back of the couch, feeling a knot in my throat. I wanted to deny everything he was saying, just continue my self pity, but even then, it started to sound ridiculous.

"Is that what I'm doing?" I lifted my head over my shoulder, and Paul looked at me, before sighing and getting up to sit at the edge of the couch I was lying on.

"Yeah, it is. So can you just... Try a bit more and go to the Grammys tomorrow," he was so eager for me to go, and I wondered why but I won't question it.

"Fine," I sighed before engulfing more of the blanket around me.

"Good, I was going to bring the team over tomorrow anyway, be up at like 8am," he said with a chuckle and I rolled my eyes, softly nudging him with my foot.

"We worked too hard, you worked too hard to just give it up now," he murmured, patting my legs and standing up.

I turned back around to watch him, "Where are you going?" I asked.

"I've got to go make some calls," he said with a wink and waved before walking out the door and closing it quickly behind him.

Cameras clicked but I thought about his words, and what I was doing...

I really didn't want to go tomorrow, it didn't interest me, nothing did anymore.

I need to stop. I finally realized.

My mentality... It sounds like depression.

And that's not what I'm about.

Especially with the Grammys tomorrow. And Ed tomorrow....

My mind wandered again on us, and what I was doing.

I frowned.

You're pushing him away.