Phan Snippets

euphemisms

*phil's p.o.v*

It was dark and really that's all I knew about the world outside my quilt. Maybe that was some sad euphemism for my life now. Dark, cold and completely alone no more than I deserve I suppose.

It's always painful when me and Dan fight but it's usually an hour of isolation in our rooms before one of us feels bad enough to go and apologise and everything's fine, but not this time. No this time it ended with sharp, poisoned words, Dan storming out with a slam of the door and the force of the door breaking a picture of us a few feet away from it. Now that, that was a definite euphemism for my heart and ,possibly, our relationship.

I can hear him, his voice, but it's nothing like want I'd want him to say. It's the words he said before he left and the words I said back. The one conversation I wish I'd jut forget and the one I can't distinctly remember how it started. Most of it now is just a murmur of monotone sounds gradually getting louder and angrier and ending with such a terrible way.

"It's your fucking fault Dan don't dare try and pin it on me"
"My fucking fault? Mine? Oh ok then"
"Sarcasm? Really?I don't know how I ever loved you."
"Why are you still with me then?"
"I don't really know to be honest."
"Okay..."

That last word, said so quietly, so sadly haunts me, but it was followed by such a loud bang it didn't really register until I was trapped inside my own head, forced to replay it. Again and again.

That was why I was sat here now crying into the receiver of my phone, praying for Dan to turn on his phone and listen to how sorry I was. How much I needed him. How much I didn't mean what I said. How fucking perfect he is, Sarcasm and all. But he didn't and he wouldn't. And it was all my fault. I didn't need a euphemism for that.

He's been gone for 5 hours 48 minutes and 27 seconds. I never thought I could be so alone and as time drags on it just gets worse. Hours round up and 10 o'clock becomes 11 and 11 to 12 and suddenly it's 2 am and I was still crying and praying and begging and it all seems to pay off.

Within the quietness of our home the door opens and shuts quietly, deliberately quietly and someone falls over the drawers soberly falls and someone swear loudly so loudly and in that moment I know he's back and not drunk. I jump out of bed, face still proofed with hours of crying and straight out into our living room where Dan sat rubbing his knee.

"Dan" I pant slightly out of breath from the crying and sudden exercise, but he doesn't even look up "Dan I.."

"I know"
"So you just ignor..." I paused attempting to remove all irritation from my voice
"Yep" voice smothered in sarcasm he stood up and limped up to me wrapping his arms around me.
"I'm sorry Dan. I'm so so sorry I love you and I'm a stupid and I'm sorry and I love you" in tears again I rub my face into Dan
"I'm know and I love you too" and with that one sentence everything was perfect.

I look at the floor and see a new picture frame Dan must've bought while he was out with the broken frame next to it and in that moment I realised how wrong all of the euphemisms were and think that despite the state of the frame the picture was untouched which is the perfect metaphor for me and Dan. No matter how terrible things get we will always be fine and always be together and that's all I needed. All I need is him.