you thought

0.3

i didn't sleep that night. how could i? i had too much was on my mind and i was stressed. why was i stressing so much? i mean, saying those three words means a lot, well, to me it does. i didn't want to just throw the words around. they mean something. did i mean it when i said it?  maybe i did. maybe i didn't. wouldn't it just be easier to say i meant it? okay, so i meant it, right? yes.

the war in my head was making my head throb. i wanted to sleep. i needed to sleep. but i just couldn't. part of me couldn't just say that i loved him. and i didn't know why. i wanted to talk to meghan about it, but i felt as if she wouldn't know what to say about it. she usually did, but when it came to relationship advice she didn't know of a great solution to the problem. 'just break up with them,' she would say. 'there are other guys. he's just a dick.'

all guys were dicks at some point though. what guy doesn't have his moments when he's a total dick? Daniel surely had those moments. maybe more than normal guys. but i love him anyways. right?

yes, brooklyn. you love him anyways. you love him always.

i then realized who i needed in that moment. my mom. i needed my mom. i slowly made my way from my bedroom to the dining room, where she was last.

the dining room was empty except for a small note on the table.

leftovers are in the fridge. i figured that you'd be hungry sometime soon. i've gone to bed for the night. i'll see you tomorrow evening when i return from work.

-mom

of course. she was asleep now that i needed her. i couldn't wake her. she needed her sleep. but i needed her now. i had to talk to somebody. wait. how much time had passed since i had gone to my room?

i entered the kitchen. the clock on the stove read 10:37. it had been almost three hours. had i been that lost in my thoughts?

i debated with myself before deciding to just talk to my mom tomorrow after she arrived home. i decided against eating the leftovers, i wasn't very hungry.

.  .  .

my bed had usually been quite comfortable, but that night i couldn't get comfy at all. i needed to get out. i needed to talk to somebody.

i found myself dialing a number i hadn't dialed in a long time. the person on the other end up the phone picked up after a few rings.

"hello?"

"hey, it's brooklyn."

"no shit, caller ID," they responded with a small laugh.

i laughed slowly and coughed before talking again. "are you busy?"

"when am i busy?"

"pick me up in 10?" i asked hopefully.

"i'll be there in 20."

i rolled my eyes. of course. couldn't be on time. wouldn't want that to happen, would we? i threw on a pair of jeans and grabbed a hoodie from my closet before i put on my old-no-longer-white converse. i sat back down on my bed and pulled my phone from its charging place.

DannyBoy💓: i love you

the sound of a car approaching pulled me away from the text message. i opened my window. i've never done this before. sure, i've thought about sneaking out, but it's never actually happened before.

the jump from my window to the ground seemed so far. i hoped that i wouldn't break a bone as i jumped from the window sill to the muddy ground. "shit," i cursed as i stood from the ground. i brushed myself off and sprinted to the familiar car.

"God, it took you long enough," he laughed.

"shut up, dean," i rolled my eyes. "just drive." what was i getting myself into? i just got in the car with my old best friend. the one who was now a pothead. i mean, i'm not judging him. i'm judging my mental stability.

"okay okay. where to?"

"anywhere. i need to get away."