Yes No or Maybe

Joey

I nearly walked in on them kissing. Holy fuck.
The thought upsets me. It shouldn't, but it does. They're dating and they have the right to kiss and touch each other. It's not my place to say anything.
But fuck, it hurts.
It hurts so much.
It feels like betrayal, only it's one-sided.
Alfie doesn't feel anything for me. We're best friends, and that's all we are to him. I can't blame him though.
He's probably in love with Lucas.
The pain inside turns into anger at the thought of Lucas. If only he hadn't come into Alfie's life, then everything would be less painful.
I envy him.
Fucking Lucas.
I groan as I sulk to myself. After seeing I took a nap, shutting myself out in the fear of breaking down if I stayed conscious.
And now I'm awake again.
And I feel like complete shit.
I wonder what Alfie's up to.
I let out a sigh as I reach over for my phone. It reads 7:03PM. Hoy shit. I just got 5 hours sleep.
My head still hurts but it lessoned a bit since I took medicine earlier.
I sigh and close my eyes. I bring my hand up to my face, covering my eyes. I feel tears stream down my cheeks right then.
It hurts.
It hurts so badly.
I feel so alone. I feel fucking isolated and empty. And while Alfie is next door, I feel like I have no one around.
I hate this feeling.
I've never felt like his before. I've never been so hurt over anyone else before. I've never cried so much in my life. Fuck.
I really fell this time, haven't I?
And it seems that I can't get back up.
It sucks. My life sucks.
I groan as I struggle to get out of bed. My stomach is giving me those signals that tell me I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since breakfast.
Where's Alfie?
I leave my room and make my way upstairs. Upstairs I see Alfie playing 'the last of us' in the living room and talking to himself.
"I'll see you guys on the next episode," He announces.
Oh. He's making a video.
I don't know if I should say something or just keep my mouth shut, so I decide to do the latter. I walk to the kitchen without any words. And by then Joe notices me.
He pauses his game and glances over at me. "Nice to see you up and walking," He says, smiling the slightest.
I try to smile back but I fail. "Thanks... Yeah." My stomach gives me the signals again and I frown. "What d'we have?" I ask, moving to open the fridge. Nothing catches my eyes.
"Um... I made stir fry earlier, along with some chicken, if you want that," Alfie replies, and from the corner of my eyes I can see that he went back to playing his game.
"Sure," I mumble.
"It's in the bottom door of the fridge," He says, almost reading my mind.
I nod, though I know he can't see me, and search for the food. I put some onto one plate, stealing glances at Alfie every second.
"Want some?" I ask.
"Sure."
He looks so focused.
If only he'd focus those eyes on me.
Shit.
I shut my eyes closed in frustration and take a deep breath. I reopen them and put some and chicken onto another plate for Alfie.
I heat it up in the microwave and take the plates to our kitchen table. "It's ready," I tell him as I take a seat.
He quickly saves his game and approaches his table. He takes the seat in front of me and starts to eat almost immediately.
For how long has he not eaten?
I'm worried about him.
I let out an inaudible sigh and start to eat as well. All is silent and calm until Alfie opens his mouth to speak.
"How are you feeling?" he questions, his eyes remotely focused onto his food.
"I'm fine," I respond.
No. I'm dead inside. Fucking hell. Alfie, can't you see? I need you.
Of course, he can't see it. He can't read my mind. He can't read my emotions. He can't read my feelings. He doesn't know.
I can't tell him.
"That's good," he replies shortly after.
And then silence falls between us again. Damn.
I poke at my food but I can't get myself to eat it. It's like my hunger just suddenly disappeared. Weird.
"Are you okay?" Alfie asks suddenly.
No, I'm not fucking okay.
"Why do you ask?" I mumble. Why did he ask?
"You just seem... a bit off. And Lucas told me you were in bad shape earlier..." He quietly explains.
Lucas. Lucas, Lucas, Lucas. Why must he utter that name?
I growl without realizing so and instantly regret it when Alfie shoots me a weird look. I clear my throat and drink my glass of water as an excuse. "Oh yeah. Uh. I'm fine now. Just a bit stressed. The headache is still sort of there," I say.
It's not completely a lie.
Alfie nods in acknowledgement. "Oh."
Oh? Say something more.
Please.
I just want to hear your voice.
I just want  to speak  to you.
Please, Alfie.
My insides burn; they ache, mentally and physically.
My hands start to shake. They ache to be with his hands.
My lips start to tremble. They ache to be with his lips.
I hate this feeling.
I hate the feeling of wanting something I can't have. God, I despise it.
A minute later, I toss the spoon and fork onto the plate. I get up and take the plate to throw the food away.
"Joey?" He says , his voice dripping with concern.
"I'm not hungry," I reply, shrugging a shoulder.
I dispose of the food and wash the plate.
"I'm going to sleep," I lie, rushing downstairs and into my room.
Leaving my room wasn't a good idea after all.
Hours pass as I lay in my bed, my eyes focused at the ceiling, occasionally blinking when in need to.
A million things rush through my brain
Alfie. Alfie. Alfie. Alfie. Alfie. Alfie.
Valentine's Day is next week.
Alfie. Alfie. Alfie.
Should I move on?
Alfie. Alfie.
I love Alfie.
Alfie.
I want to cry.
My heart hurts.
My life is pointless.
I want him.
I sigh into the empty room as I reach over for the phone. Whoa.
It's already past midnight. What the fuck? Has it really been that long?
Have I been daydreaming?
Have I been spacing out?
I don't know.
I groan at myself before checking my messages. I have messages from Brandon, Connor, Jude, freaking Ellie, Mom and others, but I ignore them all.
I can't talk to anyone right now.
I look through my messages until Alfie's name catches my attention. No new messages.
Of course not. He lives the next room.
I snort before clicking his name.
I start to type.
Me: Hey.
A few seconds later he responds.
Alfie: Hey.
I smile a bit as I type in my response.
Me: What's up?
I'm an idiot.
Alfie: Dude its past 12. What do you think is up?
Yup. I'm an idiot.
Me: Idk.
Seconds later he responds.
Alfie: I'm about to go to sleep obviously.
Me: Oh.
I frown as a thought comes to mind. No. no, Joey. No.
Me: Can I tell you something?
Fuck.
I gulp as he replies.
Alfie: Sure mate.
My hands start to shake, and with shaky thumbs, I type: I love you.
Should I send it?
I have the sudden urge to.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Should I?
No.
I gulp as I quickly erase it.
Never mind, I reply instead.
I wait for his response. I wait and wait, but no replies. I sigh. I'm a fucking idiot.
I guess he's asleep.
I hesitate before typing those three words again. I want to press send so badly, but I can't.
It's painfully wrong.
I erase the words again before turning off my phone. I put it aside and sigh.
I love him.
I want him.
I need him.
It hurts again.
Fuck.
I close my eyes and will the tears that threaten to come away. I'm not going to cry.
Not again.
It's pathetic.
I whimper to myself before turning to my side. I pull a pillow close and hug it, closing my eyes and pretending that it's Alfie that I'm holding.
It hurts.​