All of my 5sos work

Preference #51: Not all angels have wings

Everything that surrounded me was bleak. All of it was void of happiness and any form of positivity, it had all been drained by my presence. If I could clearly predict the moment it happened with any chance I got I would go back, shake it out of myself if that were an option. At that point I was willing to try anything to end it all.

But something happened, something changed my mind. I remember the day well, it was like any other day where I had gotten into a particular routine. Once I woke up I wouldn't move, instead I would think about the endless possibilities of what I could do and most certainly wouldn't do that day.

Family would encourage me, phone me relentlessly just to get me moving. About four times a day they'd ring to tell me to take a walk, that the fresh air would do me good. I'd always laugh at that comment, that oxygen will cure all of my problems, if only it were that simple.

I remember the day I listened to them, subconsciously agreeing just to get them off of my case. Walking around my apartment with the radio on faintly in the background as the silence worries me, silence means I'm alone with my thoughts and these tend to be deafening. Picking up my keys I opened the door, hovering at the entrance between my world of solitude and everything else to face. I didn't want to go, in my mind I was being dragged back inside, into safety. But the other part of me took two steps forward, and I was out.

It took me a few minutes to make a few more steps without wanting to retreat to my haven, if you could consider it a haven. Then she appeared, "Hey neighbour!" Her voice echoed in my mind as I reflected on the moment.

My mind raced as I tried to picture who she was, if I recognised that voice but everything failed. All I knew was that this voice belonged to my neighbour who I haven't had the heart to meet. Responding took a while, I hadn't spoken more than three syllables in weeks and now someone was willing to initiate small talk. To say I was worried didn't cut it, sweat formed on my forehead and my breaths remained shallow. So I did the only thing I thought would make things easier.

I ran back into my apartment and shut the door. I remembered I slammed the door and even I shook at the intensity. Eventually I learned that it scared her for a bit, that she thought she did something wrong by being friendly. But that didn't stop her from trying, and I'm thankful now for her persistence.

A few hours had passed since our brief interaction, and I heard a faint knock on the door I curled up against. Initially I thought my mind was playing tricks on me and lowered my head into my knees, wanting to shut it all out. But then there was another two knocks, these were louder but only partially, as if they didn't want to disturb me too much but notify me of their presence. 

The same voice reappeared through the panels of wood that separated us and I sat upright, ready to listen to more of her soothing upbeat tone. "Hi, I'm sorry about before." She seemed hesitant, she told me apart of her felt confused, worried for my reaction this time after the first incident. "I erm, just wanted to say hi that's all. We haven't officially met I guess." Her voice began to get more apprehensive and physically distant. She was walking away from me, like they all do in the end. 

At that point I had a few possible options, either continue my pitiful existence in this apartment or stop glaring to my door knob and instead follow the voice. I can't imagine what could've happened to me if I didn't go after her, see who she was and help me piece by piece. 

"Wait." I remembered how I peaked my head to see if she was there. Part of me had lit up for the first time in months, she was sat outside my door, her legs splayed outwards as she fiddled with her nails. Her head turned in my direction as a reaction but then resumed its original position, she then whipped her head back again. 

She became flustered as she stood up and brushed herself down, a smile emerging onto her alluring face. "Hi." She lowered her head and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, which fell back into her face. Her appearance seemed cheerful, that she radiated a strange sense of positivity into my bleak world. 

We often discuss this meeting, how my appearance failed me that day and had done for previous months. At that time I was at my lowest point, my hair remained a permanent blonde mess, never purposely styled that way although some argued otherwise. My once clean shaven jawline had become wild with scruff, stubble had overgrown but my lack of energy and care meant it remained unattended, un-cared for; just like me before she helped. She commented on my eyes, how much despair they held in the blue orbs that now could be viewed as calming to her, this change in particular made me smile now. 

"Luke." My tone at this time was monotone, emotionless and almost unapproachable, she still tried to get through to me attempting to break my barriers that I had built up for almost a year. The thick layers of emotional suppression and bricks made of refinement and constant battles with conscience stuck together in my mind, secured with doubtful thoughts. Yet someone in all of this she removed it all, piece by piece, layer by layer. 

"Y/n." That was the first time I had heard her name, how it rolled off her tongue effortlessly, how I had repeated her name in my mind on many occasions when I felt down, when she wasn't around. It fitted her like a glove, her expression matched her name in some weird way. Even now it was difficult to describe how she made me feel that day, how she makes me feel now. 

After that brief talk we didn't see much of each other, well she didn't see much of me but I saw her go by occasionally. My intentions were not malicious of any kind, I merely wanted to feel something, anything at that stage. I made more of an effort to wonder around the floor, get into the lift and sometimes even she would coincidentally be there with me. These times were my favourite, we could talk about the weather that I didn't know about, or she would ramble on about her day or something that happened, simply out of awkwardness. 

Weeks passed and part of me felt different, my shoulders felt lighter somehow. On those occasions I pictured her smile, how the light caught her eyes in the lifts for a second and that would remain a constant for me, it got me through my day seeing someone else so content with themselves. I then managed to do more for myself. I picked up a razor without fear of what I could do to myself, I started by shaving, taking small steps to begin with. 

I walked out of my apartment and did my new routine, I got up and walked to the lift and went down to the ground floor, had a wonder around the streets and returned home. On some evenings she would knock and invite me round to hers for a drink or two, we would just unwind. I would try to unwind and enjoy myself as best as I could. The night I had shaved my beard off was a Tuesday, our main night of the week and I knocked on her door. Even now I can hear the music she played and sang off key to. How she would open the door slightly flushed from dancing and cooking, but that night her eyes widened in shock. 

At that moment I looked around me to see if someone was behind me or if something had split onto my fresh shirt that I only wore to hers now, I wanted to show her I made progress. How she had helped me only through actions, my words still not being effective in that area. "You shaved." Her expression changed from confusion to excitement at that point, how she seemed to brighten up at my clean appearance after so long. 

"Well, thought it might be a good change." I smiled, except whenever I smiled I looked down avoiding eye contact after feeling self conscious. Out of instinct she would raise my chin, just to see my smile for real which was a rarity then. 

Now whenever we are around each other I smile, my mindset remains positive as much as I allow it to be. I shut out the bad thoughts, Y/n ensured that I did, we realised there must be something going on between us. She suspected it on that Tuesday night, how the simplest of actions felt so intimate, so mundane yet magical. 

I learned that night that Y/n was my angel, and that not all angels have wings.