XI [Absence]

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There's no warmth when there is no you.

Quick A/N: Play A Drop in The Ocean by Ron Pope on repeat! Please? You won't regret the downloading (or YouTube opening)!

Play it NOW!

[Phil's POV]

Seven A.M., a name comes into my mind.

His name fills my head always, never leaving.

When I can't rest. When I work. When I was about to sleep. When I open my eyes. When I float around Dreamland. His name always lingers.

Dan. Dan. Dan.

Every time I stare into his eyes, his dull brown eyes, I can never see the spark, it is never there anymore. All I see is darkness, sadness, and unending pain.

I can never stare too long. I don't want his eyes to stare back at me. I don't want to break down in front of him.

I am sorry. I am sorry. How can you hold on to this alone?

I have to go apologize.

I jump out of bed, walking out of my room. It's not too early, isn't it? After all, it is important.

I take a turn into his room, where I should see him, sleeping or having an existential crisis. Ha ha.

But I didn't.

"Dan? Where are you?"

His bag is gone.

He isn't working today. Something is wrong.

I ran to the living room, looking for his tall figure. But he isn't there.

The thunder outside was banging into my head, the noises of the storm outside isn't helping at all.

And that's when I saw it.

A piece of paper, on top of my notebook.

I took it, my hands trembling as I slowly start to read.

"Phil,

I am sorry for hurting you. I am sorry for being such a burden. I am sorry for not talking to you in person, but I think it will be easier that way."

"Thank you for everything. The past two months was great. But I think.. I have to find myself. I will strive, and I will stop being such a weight for you.

Much love, Dan x"

Endless thoughts entered my head. Where could he be? Where would he go, when he can't even navigate his way to work without his GPS?

Stupid, I know.

I ran outside my apartment. The familiar 'ding' sound of the elevator welcomes me inside. I pressed the floor where the lobby is. The receptionist glanced over to me with a weird look, curious of my panicking behavior.

"Excuse me, sir. Have you seen someone, a tad bit taller than me, brown hair, brown eyes?" I asked him. The receptionist seems to be lost in thought for a moment. Then, his eyes snapped back at me.

"Oh yes, I saw him rushing outside, with a backpack, it seems quite full. He took a cab. I didn't catch what he said or what was his destination, I'm sorry," he told me.

"Thank you, it's fine," I said to him, the sadness in my tone flooding without my notice.

"What is it, sir? Is he your friend?"

Friend. For some reason, the word stings.

"Yes, I made a mistake, and I wanted to go fix it," I told him with honesty.

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