Canyon Moon | H.S.

Swim Before you Drown (67)

"You sure you're alright, Angel?"

That makes it four today.

Once in bed when we woke up, though that was a casual question. Again when I came out of the bathroom. Once in the car on the way to the studio, and just now as he's getting his makeup done.

A career in acting definitely isn't for me then, obviously not having been believable.

"H, I promise I'm fine." I say for the fourth time, though it feels like a lot more than that. I give him a smile to reassure him, ignoring the churning in my stomach that tells me it's clearly fake.

Thankfully he seems to accept it this time.

In all honesty, I'm not alright, and I think both of us know that to different extents. Normally I wouldn't hide it from him, or anyone really. I'm pretty good about being open with my feelings, whether it's intentional or not.

The problem is, I don't know why I'm feeling... well, fine.

My mum and I always had a phrase for when one of us was having a bad day, or week or whatever.

I'm fine, but fine isn't fine.

Fine is the most naff word in the English language, apart from nice, maybe, you get taught that early on in school. Fine is the word you use when you're being too polite to tell somebody that you're not doing well, or, in my case, you don't know why you don't feel good.

I've felt fine for about a week now, which is a far cry from the cloud I've been riding on for months living with Harry.

The Met Gala was two weeks ago, so maybe it has to do with that, but I don't think so. A bunch of photos of Harry and I spread across the internet, and everyone had really lovely things to say, and if they didn't, I didn't see them.

No, I'm pretty sure my mood has nothing to do with the Met Gala.

Sam's noticed as well, so it's even affected the time I've spent at the studio. I don't have any deadlines or interviews at the moment, Sam's in the process of trying to get in touch with some celebrities, including the ones I spoke to at the Met, and some radio shows and things like that.

The usual stuff, I guess. Not that I ever would have expected that to be considered usual for me.

Harry's filming the video for Falling today. Maybe that has something to do with it.

I've known about it for a while, but maybe it only dawned on me after the Met Gala. Falling's a sad song, and it reminds me of a time when I was in a lot of pain. Both of us were. I can sense Harry's a bit apprehensive about it too, for the same reason.

He came back from the meeting where they came up with the concept, and he seemed unsure about it. We had a long discussion about the song and how personal it is, and whether or not the video was a good idea.

My thought process was, by creating something beautiful to accompany the song, it's another form of expression that can help both of us move past it, and start to associate it with different things.

Maybe when he sings it he'll think of today, filming the video, instead the day he wrote it... or the day I left.

Though judging by the pit in my stomach, I have a feeling today's not going to be much more of a happy memory.

I'm trying to keep a smile on my face, I really am, but I know it's not reaching my eyes.

I wish I knew why I felt like this. It's not hormones, that's a benefit of being on the pill, my hormones rarely get out of whack. Nothing's changed in my life recently. Everything we do seems more amazing than the last, and Harry's perfect.