Perspective

Chapter Thirty Five.

"I'm only happy when it rains
I'm only happy when it's complicated
And though I know you can't appreciate it
I'm only happy when it rains

You know I love it when the news is bad
Why it feels so good to feel so sad?
I'm only happy when it rains."

***

I've had the week from hell.

It's also been a week since I've seen Harry and that's been on my mind more than it should.

I've felt more lonely than usual, which I didn't realise was possible.

In a way, I guess I was almost grateful for the distractions this week; even if they pushed the brink of my already thin as a thread sanity.

Harry had messaged me through the week, trying to see each other and it just wasn't possible on my end, I could barely reply to him with everything going on. So he'd opt for late night texting conversations instead, keeping me awake talking about nothing.

It was always random, nothing personal or just shitty jokes and the lightness of the conversations honestly felt like a relief.

I couldn't tell him why I couldn't see him, I don't even know how I'd begin to explain it. I'm just thankful he didn't turn up unannounced.

Frankie came by on Thursday to pick up Gizmo, after I had spent the night with Harry on the Saturday and he could tell immediately that I was having one of my bad weeks.

The part I needed a distraction from though was when Frankie let it slip in casual conversation that Harry was out on a date the night before.

I'd asked how Frankie's night had been and he had said it was good until he was woken up by Harry tripping over his own feet and falling into his door with a loud bang at 3am.

He was drunk as a skunk, and Frankie got up to help him to bed.

He was also missing a shoe, apparently. Which they later located in the driveway.

"Must've been a wild night" Frankie had said, "I'm surprised he even made it home though."

I didn't know what reaction to give Frankie, I didn't know what reaction I should even have.

I can't say I was surprised, I mean - to think Harry would only be focused on me would imply I were something special.

I'm the furthest thing from special.

As soon as he mentioned the date I felt my stomach do the pitfall that happens when you drop suddenly on an amusement ride.

I couldn't really decipher the feeling, I just knew it didn't feel good. After the night I spent with him, my resolve crumbled and I've just given into the fact that I care, a lot. I like him, I like his company and I like how I feel when I'm around him.

So caring about him, I guess means I care far more about this shit than I should.

I couldn't explain that to Frankie though, I still don't know how to explain what has been going on between Harry and I. I have to tell him though.

I don't think I'm really in a position to be upset about it. I knew what Harry was like, and we aren't together; I don't even know if what he does when we aren't together is even any of my business.

I doubt if I went on a date he'd care, seeing as he's so into his no commitment, fuck buddies routine.

I guess the only difference is I don't want to go on dates with other people.