Unicorns On Wheels [Petekey]

23. Wednesday.

2016/03/09 Wednesday

Today, when I woke up, I woke up an hour before my alarm went off. I couldn't go back to sleep because the first thing I could possibly think was Huntington's Treatment Day because that's what day it was. Pete was going to get treated again today, he was going to sit and keep Cherry entertained while being in immense pain.

In some ways, I suppose, Pete reminded me of my mother. He was always willing to make me happy – always willing to help people regardless of whether he enjoyed it or not. I knew that Pete must've thought he was being selfish, getting this treatment instead of letting someone else have it.

But I also knew that he was doing it because he didn't want someone else to have to deal with that sort of pain. I hated that. I hated that about him. In a sea of things about him that I loved – in a never ending ocean of beautiful things – I hated his selflessness. But just this once and never again.

I turned my phone on and opened my messenger, as if that might make me feel less angry or less sad or make me any less guilty. I simply stared at it. I only had 3 contacts: Pete, Gerard and Frank. I'd deleted mum and dad but I sort of wished I could call them right now.

I'd never felt like this before, like everything was falling apart and my mother could fix it. Because the truth was, that my mother could fix anything. Hell, if she fixed my Useless Logs of Fat™ I wouldn't even be surprised. I cried, then.

I cried and cried and I sobbed into my pillow like that might bring her back and, even though it didn't, it did make me feel better. I got a message from Pete – r u awake? And I sighed. What was he doing awake at this time in the morning?

Yes. U ready 4 treatment 2day? I texted back as fast as I could possibly manage. It was hot – like, hot as hell, and I felt like I was dying under my layers and layers of blankets. I wanted to kick them of and I think I even tried, before I remembered that that wasn't really in the job description of my Useless Logs of Fat™.

Yes. Pete texted back. And I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't type anything for a long time because I didn't know what the right response would be and I thought it through more than I'd ever thought anything through before.

I love ur hair. I said. Pete sent me a string of laughing emojis and I sent another text response, sniffing and wiping my wet cheeks so that I could pretend I hadn't just been crying. I love ur stupid face. Pete didn't say anything in response to that, but I could tell he was still online.

I hated double texting but I did it anyway. I love ur stupid ass eyes that move 2 slow. He didn't respond. I love ur long.... eyelashes. I figured maybe if I could make him laugh, maybe he'd respond. I worried about whether I was doing something wrong. Whether I should just stop. But I didn't.

I love ur mouth.

I love ur voice and ur dumb accent and the way you kiss me.

And I love ur hair and your stupid nose and I loved it wen u dropped me.

I love ur face. I love ur car and ur hoodie and I love mug & bean.

I love ur stupid donkey laugh. And then I waited for him to respond. He didn't, though. He simply stayed online and left my messages on read. I felt nervous and I didn't know what to say or do so I just rolled over in bed and waited for the text notification.

I didn't get one – instead my phone rang and I wondered whether it was Pete, phoning me to call me out on the fact that I'd basically just told him that I loved everything about him but hadn't gone so far as to say that I had fallen in love with him. And, to be honest, I don't know whether I had.