dan howell
sadness
🍓
dan was crumbling down like a game of jenga, piece by piece bits of him were falling away to nothing. crashing down with a large thump, leaving the rest of him weaker. dan howell was always flamboyant and happy, but not when his life took a sudden turn that wrenched his heart and tore it apart.
sadness. simple and plain. sadness can escalate. dan had once been bright, but was struck down and dragged into the dark.
the dark was cold and eerie. but dan had grown to like it. deal with it. get over it. it was hard, but dan went on with his life even if this dark shadow always loomed overhead.
his mocha curls always limp, and his coffee eyes made dan, well dan. dan always stood out. in bad ways of course.
weirdly skinny, his ribs always poked out of his pastel colored cardigans, oversized sweaters and all too big t-shirts and his tall appearance made him look frail and weak.
like his little heart.
his face was sprinkled with little freckles, like the constellations splashed across the galaxy.
his skin, pale and his cheeks always flushed, dan looked like he had little dusts of blood splashed across his porcelain skin.
his lips always chapped and his earrings rusted, dan howell was a pretty boy waiting to be picked on.
🍼
dan had many of his unfinished and finished paintings on large and small canvases littered around his room, leaving little wall to be seen. behind his bed were his paintings from 2 years ago.
so colourful. it looked like candy. soft and sweet. the wall continued, colors gradually getting darker and darker until it was the darkest red and black like dan's tainted heart.
dan drew his feelings. his thoughts. his crazy ideas and his never ending sadness.
his whole life was a messy and unfinished painting. so much left to be filled, and a quick stroke of black ink takes over that spot every time, leaving less white and colourul happiness to fill up.
dan was the painter. making these strokes of sadness himself. he couldn't stop. a quick flick of dripping depression and more and more of his life wasted. he never meant to make the stroke, as he said "it's just a mistake". but inside, he knew he deserved it.
paint can't be erased like a pencil. it's permanent and effects the rest of the life painting. dan never truly found a way to fix this, no matter how hard he tried.
dan was always alone, no matter how many friends he had. dan still had all his old friends in real life, but grew so distant that you wouldn't even be able to call the acquaintances.
dan always had his phone on hand. dan phone meant more to him than anything else. it held his secrets, his thoughts and his only enjoyment. his phone was a hiding place. nothing else mattered to him, not even real life. his enjoyment of endless randomness and people like him made him feel safe and loved, unlike his real life, where he was neglected and uncared for. he had so many friends on the internet. his obsession with praise made him feel falsely secure and happy.
dan was so lost that only he could find happiness with addiction to his screen. he had to admit, he had a split personality when it came to his phone. dan was flamboyant, happy and confident online unlike his real, broken self.
nothing changed that.
not until he met @phillester.
only then did his secret barrier break down.
☁️
authors note!
hi! my name is hedi lmao. this is like my first real proper story?? this is based off true events that happened in my life, so this story truly means a lot. do u guys like it so far? tell me what yall think <3
- hedi 5/5/2018
