everything was gold

weeks on end

it seemed like forever that I sat alone. i slept in the attic because it caused unbearable pain to step foot in my old room. i'd abandoned it the second I screwed up. i scared myself away. i hadn't looked in a mirror for years, and hadn't worn color for as long as I could remember.

i sat, wide-eyed, on a rusty old bed. boxes of memories lay around me. they were dusty with time. i was okay with that, because I'd rather forget.

shivering in the cold, I curled up tighter. i wished someone would be beside me, holding me close and keeping me warm. but I knew this could never be.

i hadn't showered. or changed. or spoke. weeks on end had passed, and I didn't care.

for some odd reason, I thought of Phil. his beautiful ebony skin, his smile stretching a thousand miles, his hair styled on his head in a little quiff, his roots a faint ginger. i always liked to think of his eyes: a bluish, greenish, yellowish color. mine could never compare. I could never compare.

in the darkness of the attic, a chill in the air, I was imagining Phil. in all his beauty. close to me. much closer to me than ever before.

i felt something towards Phil. and he couldn't know me. ever again.

i quickly pushed any thoughts of him aside.

but, damn, how I wished he could hold me again. he was the only one to make me feel anything other than suppression.

resilient. be r e s i l i e n t. you must remember what that means. don't you? courageous. overcoming. fearless. confident.

but I, Daniel Howell, was none of those things.