Please Be Home

Stole//Dan

•second person•

I can't take it. I can't take it.
Who are we?

Where are the words now that your lips were inches from mine? I've been crying; wondering why I was never good enough. Why could you never love me?

Somehow it was simpler before you almost kissed me.

What do you want?

We're in the same room, but you won't look up at me, and I just want to address this with you. I want to be happy with you again, Phil!

I'm yelling at you in my mind, but you can't hear a single melted word.

We should be in love.
It was us, Phil! We were everything we had, and I never imagined I wouldn't be yours, or that someone else could take you from me.

We were unconsciously in love with each other.
Anyone could see.

Now I can't even look at you without feeling my heart tear itself apart. Not even it can believe I can make it without you.

You saved me, do you remember?

I can't even look at her, she's like shade. The girl who stole my sunlight.

We were happier then you and her could ever be. It hurts me that you can't see that.

I want to know what you're thinking. I want to know if you love me.

Take a breath; it's some point in the afternoon where the light is caught in your hair, and your blue eyes are downcast towards your computer screen.

Some point in the day, like yesterday, where I'm completely focused on you, and you won't even meet my eyes.

I want to scream.

And we're so fucking sad when we listen to the other breathe. I'm wondering, who will leave first?

•••

~Somebody Else~
•The 1975

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AN: That last stanza or whatever was going to be the description in my first plannings of this story, how about that?