Scared | Albert Hammond Jr. fic

Yours To Keep (1/2)

I can't sleep. I've been wide awake since I hit the sheets, but that's no surprise. I rarely sleep well these days. Hell, I rarely get to sleep at all anymore.

God, I'm so tired. I'm physically, emotionally drained. I never thought I'd be this young and yet still feel so old. It's cliche but true.

I feel it starting now, all the shit I keep inside starts to stir back up. It's in the dark, on these quiet sleepless nights, that my insecurities torment me and I'm forced to think about things I don't want to think about. I can feel a giant sob crawling it's way up my chest, just ready to leap out. I muffle my sobs with my hands and blanket, then I look over at the man sleeping next to me in bed. He's on the right side, face down, and seems to be resting soundly. I envy him for that.

Albert. Oh, my sweet Albert. How I adore that man. I love him so much it scares me sometimes. The thought of losing him somehow, it physically pains me. It's in moments like these, though, where I wonder if he'd be better off with someone else. Someone who's happier, healthier. Someone who has their life figured out and all their shit well put together. I know he's not perfect (nobody is) but Albert is so bright, talented and successful. He's so full of life, I just want to drink him all in. But I feel like, maybe, I'm just holding him back. Maybe I should just let him go.

That thought just makes me want to cry more, and I know that I need to get up and hide somewhere before he wakes up to see me cry. I can't allow that- I don't want my problems to become his. I get up from bed and lock myself in the bathroom. I sit inside the tub, fully in my PJs, and grab a towel to press towards my face. It seems to disguise the sounds of my sobs just fine.

Damn it, I fucking hate this. I hate feeling this way-- so lost. I don't want to be this way, I want to get be better. I desperately need things to get better. I just wish I knew what it is I have to do in order to make that happen. Having almost no direction in life and no real passions to begin with, that makes it all a bit more difficult. Things were easier when I younger-- back when I thought I knew what I was going to do with my life. Turns out I didn't know at all. For a while I thought maybe I'd be a writer, or maybe even a teacher. But that's not what I'm doing with my life at the moment. Let's just say that 'shit happened'. Now I'm just trying to focus my energy on work. It may not be a job I love, but at least it's something.

I wish I was better at opening up and talking about this. I've tried, though, I really have. I've tried talking to my parents, and even to a very close friend, but it's not easy. I know that they care, I do, but the truth is ... most people are too busy dealing with their own problems that they don't have the time or patience to listen to someone else's. That's why I haven't talked to Albert about it yet. I want to, very badly, but I also don't want to hurt him. I don't want my sadness to become his.

~*~*~*~ flashback ~*~*~*~

When I met Albert, I didn't think anything more would ever happen between us. It even seemed far fetched for us to be friends. I mean, he is who is and I'm ... well, me. We met at a record store, actually. I was just browsing through a few older albums that were on sale, when he (who was also browsing) bumped into me. 

"Shit! Sorry about that," I remember him saying, his eyes only meeting my mine for a second. I didn't recognise him from The Strokes at the time, though I had heard of the band before then. His hair was much bigger and crazier back then, and it covered most of his face as he looked down. He wore a red velvet suit with colored socks and dark dress shoes. Everything about him seemed quirky and eccentric, it made me smile.

"It's fine," I had said, and we both went to back to our searching. He stayed near me, though, and after a few minutes he asked, "Are you lookin' for somethin' special?" I looked up to see if he was talking to me, and sure enough, he was.