Requiem For A Dream // Phan

26; Prison Toys.

        I was sick of this, every time something went wrong, I'd react so dramatically and cause people stress. Maybe I should just let it go, maybe I shouldn't care anymore. Because fuck feelings, right? I'm trying to quit being so moody and shit, but this is ridiculous. I don't expect anyone to really see from my eyes, or to truly feel what I've felt because if they could, I don't think they'd ever criticize me. But fuck, if all emotions did was make you feel angry and sad and worthless, then I'm just gonna let them go.

      But of course, Life wants to always fuck me over because its not as easy as it seems to just not be in control of my emotions but I am this close to snapping. And to think I was some twink who liked Pokemon, Mario Kart, and Snickerdoodle cookies, and now, a survived heroin addict, a hopeless romantic and most likely a fucking alcoholic.

      I twisted the drink in my hand, watching the ice swoosh over the golden liquid. Whiskey wasn't my favorite, but I needed something strong, and I was not going to Vodka. The difference between the two, with whiskey, you can feel the drunkenness slowly coming onto you, with Vodka you could be downing shots by the minute and feel fine, and then Bam! You're fucked. It's a party drink, to be honest. I didn't feel like partying, the opposite really.

     I really needed to get myself checked out cause these mood swings are affecting everyone, even Gee, and to think I was only an asshole to Phil. I guess you could say I was bi-polar, shit, I wouldn't deny it now after all this time. If you told me that a few years ago, I'd cackle and tell you to go fuck yourself, but now, it's starting to make a bit of sense.

         I don't know about Phil, Or Gee, Or even Frankie, but I really needed saving. I couldn't do this by myself, but me being the stubborn person I am, doesn't let anyone in anymore. No excuse, obviously, but I still need some closure. Not the reassuring closure but the comforting kind. But I don't know what to do, my mind is so everywhere that I don't even know what I want anymore. Did I want sympathy? No, that was the least I needed right now. Empathy? Someone who understands? No, the opposite.

       So I'm sitting here thinking of what It'd be like to have those two things, and I didn't really have to imagine, I grew up with those. But fuck, I wanted affection. Someone to hold me, someone to tell me they love me without feeling obligated to say it because of my feelings, no, I wanted someone to really feel love for me. 

But only one person came up when I thought of it. Phil. Phil had put me through things but fuck, he was someone that I could always rely on. He always gave me some sort of sensation when I was around him, something that I wish I could feel all the time. It felt good, I felt good when I was with him, he made me feel loved. Loved, Loved, Love.

Oh, shit, that's what that feeling is; I'm in love with him.

I had never really admitted it to myself before, which was surprising because hello -- Seven Years? To finally see it, to say it, to feel it in my being, felt amazing again, felt incredibly good to admit. I could yell it, but I'm afraid someone else will hear me 7and take my word for their own.

Goddammit, I love him. I love him. I want to always be with him, to support him, to make him feel loved just like I did. It was overwhelming how much I was thinking, but I could not stop smiling, I kept that wicked shark grin on my face for what seemed like ages, some would blame it on the alcohol, and I was just bubbly at the moment, but No, I could feel this, I can feel this. It was hitting me with full force now.

I can't believe I'm just realizing this now, I couldn't believe how much I relied on him. Fuck, I gave up my life to heroin just because he wasn't here with me. I was feeling something, I knew what I was doing, knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was hopelessly, irrevocably, in love with him. I wasn't reacting badly, I was just in love, now I knew that.

"Dan?" I heard the familiar voice behind me, I turned slowly, the grin still plastered on my face, and looked at the man I dearly loved and giggled to myself.

"Hiya Phil," I was a little tipsy, I'll admit, but I was just happy.

"Come on, Love. Let's get you home," He said, avoiding my eyes. He's angry with me, my chest felt like it was stabbed a few times and I breathed a shaky sigh, my eyes watering.

"You're mad at me," I quivered, His eyes softened and so did the gaze but he sighed. He looked to Gee, but he was in his own little world, glancing at the people passed out on tables and the left behind margaritas that sat upon the colorful booths.

"Not at you, but your decisions, yes." Phil said, and Gee snapped out of it, pulling me up, but I was fully capable of standing so I shook both of them off of me, even though the presence of Phil's hands was so comforting.

"I can walk, I'm not hammered." I sighed, I was still pretty sad at the fact that Phil was disappointed. If I were him, I would've been too, out of the instinct of course.

"I need to tell you something when we get home, okay?" My speech was slurred a bit, but controllable. I shook my head a bit, trying to regain posture a bit, even though I was sort of tumbling a bit. Phil silently gulped,

"Whats it about?" He asked,

"Well, it's not bad . . . At least I don't think so,"