Meet Me In The Hallway

Once you Go Without It

Sitting on Tamarama beach, I tried to ignore the goings on and the scene around me. I was really invested in the book I was trying to read. I was really trying to be invested in the blasted book. The month had crept by, and I'd stayed in contact with Harry. Our constant stream of texting didn't abate and I was tempted to ask him if he got much else done. Those words never passed my fingertips, because I didn't want him to stop. He had taken it upon himself to leave me alone for this day with Michael and his mates, which is probably why I was bored. It was definitely why I was pouty. I missed our conversation, this morning had opened with an atrocious knock knock joke. I'd played along because it made him smile and sometimes, he could be funny.

"Knock, Knock."

"Who's there?"

"Daisy"

"Daisy who?"

"Daisy me rollin, they hatin."

I laughed, but I didn't tell him that. It gave him to much ammunition and my weakness had more to do with him than anything. We had texting continually all morning until I shared our plans for the day.

"Oh, I'm gonna let you have fun with your mates. Leave you alone then."

"They are really Michael's mates, H." I countered, hoping he wouldn't leave me alone.

"Still, what are you gonna do, text all day instead of enjoy the beach."

Yes, that is exactly what I wanted to do, but I responded, "I dunno, depends if your jokes get better."

"My jokes are the best you've ever heard, and you are going to admit that when I call you tonight."

I bit my lip, "Doubtful," I wrote back.

The problem was, after the moment of realization the first week I was home in Australia, all of our interactions felt laden with a subtext I was uncomfortably aware of. I had no idea if Harry was inhabiting the same grey area as me. I assumed he wasn't. His calls and texts betrayed no awkwardness, and I was still mostly enjoying them.

I had so far been able to avoid his FaceTime attempts thankfully. My excuses were wide ranging and inventive - I'm out, I have no WiFi and a crap data plan. In a moment of sheer panic, I had even claimed to be in the loo, which led to him letting me go immediately after mentioning the acoustics were wrong for a bathroom. How he knew that, I did not care to know.

As much as my mind conjured his visage now that I was AWARE, I could not face actually seeing him. I was sure that I'd embarrass myself in some way and he would know that I suddenly could not stop thinking about him.

Before I opened my eyes in the morning, a month on, longer than I had occupied his bed, I was still reaching out to find him on the other side of the mattress. I was still staying to my side of the bed. I had a single sized bed too for Christ's sake, how does one have a side, but I left a Harry-shaped gap in my bed, to echo the negative space in my daily life. And seemingly in my heart. When I was able to pry my eyes open every AM, I wished to see the green of his eyes reflecting mine. I missed his humming. He had a habit, of humming under his breath. The melodies he wove ranged from the song in his head to he one I imagined was on his heart. At first, those evenings when we played video game after video game and I handed him his ass repeatedly, he would hum the songs from the video game and I threatened to bash him upside the head.

I had found that I had taken up the habit as I sat around - reading, pretending I was not writing in my journal, or cooking myself snacks - I hummed. They even seemed to be Harry's songs, either those that he wrote, the parts that he sung, or the ones he hummed when he was not repeating the irritating tings of Mario kart or Fifa. I also found myself pinching my bottom lip and pushing back my hair.