Do I miss him?
Yes.
Do I love him?
I loved him.
But now?
I slowly open my eyes, my back sore and my legs crumpled underneath me. I'm glad I'd grabbed a hood and a hat, when I pulled them over my head I was surely unrecognizable. It covered my brown hair and left half of my face covered.
I still love him.
I push my thoughts out of my head, hoping they'll stay out. Though, I know, they're just tucked back, waiting for the right time to pounce on my consciousness and feed on my grief.
Didn't I mention that in IT? That I loved him? Have I ever told him I loved him?
Doubt twirls in my stomach. When we kissed for the first time, the only time, did I tell him I loved him? Have I ever?
Did IT say I loved him?
That doesn't matter. You're putting him behind you. You're putting your crap life behind you. It all doesn't matter.
I get up from the bench and stretch, my neck and back muscles pulled taut. I pull at my jacket sleeve, making sure my Visa and Oyster card is in my pocket.
I look for some kind of tourist map, and I find one right next to the bus stop. The sky is just turning blue, a little spark of it tinting the east. To the west, the sky is still navy with night.
I open up the map and I am bewildered immediately. Lines cross each other, and street names are seemingly sprinkled in random places. I can't make out where I am, let alone try to find where I want to go.
I sigh, my stomach twisting in pain. I haven't eaten anything since the night before I left, two nights ago.
But it isn't just hunger that has added its share of pain in my gut; guilt, fear, and broken love added to the mess.
I sigh in frustration and crumple the map in my hands. A sharp pain jabs in between my middle and index finger, and I pull back sharply, dropping the map. A droplet of blood sweats to the top of the cut. Angry tears come to my eyes.
I swallow hard, clenching my left fist in pain. My right hand is sore already, but I push the pain down. I have more things to worry about.
I grab the map and smooth it out against the board is came off of. I start to figure where I am, and where I'm going.
The bus stop is marked already, a red circle and text saying:
YOU ARE HERE
I sit back down on the bench, careful not to touch my hand against anything. I take a good look at the compass, and look at the rising sun. I have no time to appreciate the beauty of it, though I begin to imagine it, the pinks and golds and oranges perfectly fading into each other, in a wild, colourful scheme. Then it would settle into the cornflower blue.
"Hey."
I jump nearly a mile. A girl is next to me, staring straight forward. I look around, wondering if it was her that talked. She seems like her mind is on something else entirely.
"Where are you headed?"
I know it's her now; she turned her head, her piercing green eyes seeming to stare right through me. It makes me feel naked; embarrassed, exposed.
"Erm..." I move to the right, and little away from her. I take in her entire body; she had soft, olive skin and dark hair. Her hair seems out of place, like she's spent days without brushing it. She wears simple skinny jeans, dirty converse, and a ratty tank top. She has a jumper tied around her waist, and an old bag slung around her shoulder.
YOU ARE READING
One Life (Phan)
Fanfiction***READ FIRST*** Trigger Warnings: Self harm thoughts/themes. Suicide thoughts/themes. Depression and anxiety. You have been warned. /"Dan..."/ /I look back at him, averting my gaze from my laptop. We're at Phil's house, sitting in his room. I am on...