I was hoping that the upcoming Muse concert would help take my mind off the breakup. I'd been sort of wallowing for a few weeks, longer than was normal. Dan seemed alarmed to see me so depressed, since I was always positive, upbeat Phil that pulled him out of his torpor.
I had always been this way, ever since I could remember. Brushing off the little problems was pretty easy, but when something hit me, it hit me hard. When I was sixteen and my brother got into a car accident, I stayed in bed for an entire week, fixated on the fact that he could have died,
even though he was perfectly fine and uninjured. My light-heartedness had a price, apparently.
These moments happened rarely, but when they did, it took a long time to recover.
So this breakup was one of those times for me, "Phil, you want to get pancakes?" Dan asked hesitantly, hovering in the doorway to my room. I was rereading the exact same page in my book again and again; unable to focus. It said, 'We consume silence with noise, consume emptiness with love and consume sadness with true emotion. Why, if this is the definition of our race, can I not accomplish this simple task, was I really more messed up than I had first thought. Was my mind abstract to society's reasoning and thoughts, or was I consuming time with over thinking and rational text?' I looked up from the page in my book that I'd been trying to focus on for the past half hour.
"I don't feel like going outside, particularly," I said, trying to look somewhat normal.
"Okay... do you... want me to get some for you, then?" I wasn't hungry in the slightest, but I knew Dan would worry.
"Sure. The usual." A weak attempt at a smile from me, and a concerned one from Dan.
"Alright. Phone me if you need me."
"Okay."
He left and I returned to my book. The words blurred under my eyes, and nothing made sense, just like my stupid life. (The self-pity was strong today.) I shut the book, my rage and sadness and loneliness spiraling out of control. Tears were forming in my eyes, and I threw the stupid book across the stupid room. Everything was stupid. God, I'd fucked up. I'd fucked up majorly. Why did I have to flip out like that? If I'd just stayed calm and collected, maybe Charlie and I would still be together. But no, I'd had to yell at him and screw him up even more... God. I shook my head, trying to get the painful memories to dissipate.
"Phil?"
Dan was back, pancakes in hand.
I stopped shaking my head, extremely aware of how moronic I looked at the moment, "Thanks for getting the pancakes," I croaked, shifting myself up to sit on the bed. He walked over and sat next to me on the bed, putting down the container of food.
"Phil, it's been two weeks. You're starting to scare me," he said, pity filling his eyes.
I hated that look. It was filled with sadness.
"I'm fine. This is totally pathetic, I know," I tried to laugh at my self-deprecation, "But I'm okay, really."
Dan sighed and put a hand on my shoulder. It was strong, clamping down on me, making sure I didn't go anywhere.
"You aren't. Listen, I know how it feels. I had this girlfriend for three years, back in high school, and she broke up with me..." He shook his head, pain flashing across his face. "It was bad. Fucked me up a little, too. But that's not the point. You have to move past this. Don't let the bad feelings control your life. That's not a healthy way of dealing with your—God, I sound cheesy as
hell, don't I, and who am I to talk?—But really, it's not good." Dan finished his inspirational rambling with a meaningful glance at me. I tried to swallow the sudden ache blocking my throat, willing the emotions to stay in control.
"Thanks for the motivational speech, Dan." I attempted a chuckle, honestly feeling a touch better already. "But really, I appreciate it. How are you so wise sometimes?"
His smile slowly took over his face. "Hey! Sometimes?" A half-relieved, half-anxious laugh bubbled out of his throat.
"Okay, most of the time."
He swatted me, then looked immediately guilty. But I didn't care. I liked it so much better when he didn't treat me like glass, fearing I'd break at the slightest pressure.
My stomach growled.
"Eat some pancakes."
"I'm not—" I started to object, but stopped at the look on Dan's face. "All right, pass them over."
His smile returned, and he opened the container, the sweet smell of pancakes wafting out. Okay, I guess I was a little hungry. We ate pancakes on my bed for a while, silently cutting and chewing and reaching for more. I took this time to check over Dan, to note the bags under his eyes, the tired set to his mouth.
"Dan, are you all right?"
He looked over at me, startled. "You're the one who's in bed. Why wouldn't I be?"
"You look tired."
"Thanks, Phil. Appreciate it. But yeah, I am a bit tired. These past few days have been spent looking for jobs. I have to pay rent somehow."
"And how's it going?" I asked, glad to talk about something other than myself.
Dan shrugged. "It's okay. Haven't found anything that I really want to do, but I've got options, and I'll keep looking."
I nodded, licking the last bit of syrup from my knife. Dan's eyes followed my progress for a moment, then looked away when I met his gaze.
"Anyway." He stood up, acting flustered for no apparent reason. "I'm off. Try to feel better, okay? You deserve more than...this."
"I will. Bye, Dan. And... thanks."
He smiled, collecting the trash and sweeping away all the crumbs. "No problem."
Dan left, closing the door gently, and I lay there for a few minutes, thinking about how lucky I was that he'd been the one to answer my ad.
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A/N:
*loving exhale*
