Seeing you will make me sad.
I want to do it anyway.
We can't relive the times we had
Seeing you will make me sad.
Perhaps it's wrong. Perhaps it's mad.
But we will both be dead one day.
Seeing you will make me sad.
I have to do it anyway.
- Wendy Cope
—
it's for the best. he said. the group couldn't handle an attachment like that. we should stop now. before... you know?
before. but it was too late, could simon not see that? an attachment like that is what he'd called it. love is what he meant. simon wanted to catch it early, always so career focused. he didn't make it in time, though, and now harry's chest stung and it never ever stopped.
he'd loved simon. he'd loved him the first time they kissed, the first time they got dinner, the first time he found himself in simon's bed the morning after. he'd loved him. he still loved him. he wondered how simon didn't feel the same.
late night talks in each other's beds, tea together in the mornings, going to shoots together, leaving together. everything, together. simon didn't love when they were together? didn't love him at all?
so they stopped. they were friend. just like simon wanted, like nothing had ever happened. but something had happened. they'd happened.
harry used to love filming moresidemen videos. he'd sit on the edge of the sofa, the closest spot to simon. they'd share secret smiles throughout filming. laugh at their own jokes.
harry would sometimes forget when he arrived now and he'd sit in that spot. his spot. he'd only remember when simon was stood in front of him and they couldn't smile anymore. couldn't laugh.
simon never let them be on the podcast together anymore, he was always busy (but harry saw the twitch notifications that said otherwise) there was a point that they'd only done those podcasts together. simon started taking more main channel videos, too, making sure they were never paired up. almost never on a team together, and if they had to there would be someone to buffer them.
harry thought about it when he went home sometimes. that maybe simon was right, the group couldn't handle an attachment like that. that it hadn't. he thought of calling it for good, thought of leaving the sidemen. but he couldn't. because where would he see simon?
he wanted to see simon.
so now harry would walk into the studio and sit in his spot on purpose. watch simon whilst he deliberately looked the other way. harry's chest stung and he wondered if simon's ever did too.
