How to lose Hazza in 10 days || h.s. [english]

➳ Day #7 * three days to go

Day #7 * three days to go

// Better a cruel truth than a comfortable delusion //

Nobody knew what the future would bring. They couldn't know, they didn't even knew which disease I was suffering from.

--

Still half asleep, I stretch out my arm to grab my phone. I look at the screen. Irritated I throw the thing on to the bed. I put my anger in boxing my pillow, then letting myself fall onto it. No sign of him. Stupid phone. I'm still tired, despite sleeping a long time. Probably because he was in my dreams all night…

I close my eyes, trying to calm down. I'm totally fucked up. I know being fucked up doesn't help me, not a single bit. But still, it isn't easy to change the fact I am.
A loud knock on my door startles me, interrupting my attempt to calm down. Sighing, I walk to the door to open it.

I can't stop staring at him. I didn't saw this one coming. I can't help it, I'm angry.
"You," I mumble, clearly annoyed by his courage to show up so suddenly.
"Me," he whispers.

I see he's uncomfortable. I'm glad he is. But honestly I'm relieved he's here. But I don't want to admit that tiny little detail. At least not yet.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him.
And I really wanna know the answer to that one. Yesterday he hadn't had the guts to pick up his damn phone, and now he's standing in front of me?
He looks at me painfully. Apparently it's a difficult question… So how do I need to know the answer if even he doesn't know?! Frustration is running through my veins.

"Your phone told me you didn't want to talk to me again. Ever," I say at a bitchy tone.
He needs to know I went through hell yesterday. He looks at me angry. Okay, I admit. Maybe I'm overreacting a little.

"C'mon! I can't take it anymore!" he roars out of the blue.
Startled, I look at him. From beaten dog to Rottweiler in a second.
"Explain it to me!" he continues with loud voice.
I freeze. I don't know this side of him. And I don't know how to handle it. Tears arise, but I try to ignore them. He can not see them.
"How can you ask me to understand when I know nothing at all. The only message you give me is that I need to stay away from you," he continues more calmly.
I breathe a sigh of relief. He seems like the real him again.
"Please explain," he practically begs me.
I stare at him, trying to swallow lump in my throat. I can't say a thing. It's silent for a few counts.

And then he interrupts the silence.
"Oh no, wait a sec. That's right. You can't," he says cynically, with a accusatory tone in it.
I can't help but stare at him. And trying to realize what is happening.
"I'm done," he says calmly, almost indifferent it seems.
He turns around. Turning his back on me. Literally.

I bag down on my knees. Defeated. I should be relieved it's over now. But I can't. I can't let him go. Not without knowing the truth. I just need to tell. If he still wants to run away afterwards, then he at least knows what for he's running. And I will resign to it.

He's already a few meters away from me.
"I'm sick. I'm dying," I say with a powerful voice.
I try to keep strong, suppress my feelings. He halts. He doesn't move for a few seconds. He turns around and gets back to me. His eyes are full of disbelief. It seems like he's trying to understand fully the meaning of every word.
"No. You're nineteen. You- You're perfect," he says firmly, while gazing at me.
I look him straight in the eyes, my heart's aching. I wish he was right, that what I said was a bad joke and nothing more than that. But I had to disappoint him. Again.

"No. I found out almost a year ago. They can't help me anymore," I whisper.
It's becoming increasingly difficult not to cry. But I'm trying the best I can. For him, not making it even more difficult than it already is.
"Why did you kept it a secret?" he asks astonished.
He's fighting against his tears. All I can do now is being honest. I owe him. I take a deep breath and answer as honestly as I can.
"I wanted to live life normally, as best as I could. I didn't want anybody to be weird around me," I sincerely declare.
Tears are rolling down his cheeks. He stares at me as if I was an alien. I notice he doesn't understand. He doesn't get why I kept it a secret. It hurts that he doesn't get what I did this for.
"Including me?" he asks, between his tears.
He really doesn't get it. I'm frustrated as hell. I don't have a clue how I can get him to fully understand this.
"Especially you! I was getting along with everything fine. I accepted it, and then you happened," I blurt out.
He looks at me with a shocked expression on his face.

He turns around quickly and walks away. Crying his heart out. Guilt runs through my veins. I should have told and treated him differently. My last words to him were due to frustration, but possibly he understood that differently; as if he was the reason why it was as difficult for me. But in a certain way it just was.
And at the same time he was the one I lived for the last couple of months. And the reason I truly enjoyed those months. I was frustrated because my body was giving up on me. He's only the reason why I'm even more angry. I don't want to leave him.

// Disbelief doesn't make it unexisting //

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I'm really wondering what you are thinking.. So please, pretty please, just tell me :$ Lots of love, Famke