Dear Happy

Chapter One: Anxiety

I was trying to get to my bedroom as fast as I could. I wasn't yet running, worried one of the other sides would stop me and ask why I was running. Then I'd have to talk to them and...and I didn't think I could do that at the moment.
So, naturally, I ran into the most disagreeable side I could. The one who wouldn't just let me pass if I asked: Sir Sing-Along.
"Greetings," Princey tried to smile at me as we walked towards each other. I didn't speak, trying to hide the shaking of my hands by curling them into fists inside my hoodie sleeves.  "What, no half-witted comeback?"  He asked, standing in front of me.  I clenched my teeth, shifting from foot to foot.  He narrowed his eyes at me, confused as always. I hoped desperately it would occur to him that I, Anxiety in human form, was incredibly anxious.
Princey narrowed his eyes at me, frowning with concern.  Something I did not get used to until much later.  "What's wrong?"  He asked me, puzzled.  I jut shook my head, trying to signal for him to stop talking to me.  He didn't understand.  Of course he didn't.  He was all of Thomas' hopes and dreams as a person.  "Are you alright?"  He asked, for some reason, grabbing my hand.  It was  meant to be a comforting gesture, I'm sure, but it caused my heart rate go up, and my breath quicken.  The problem with liking the person who's trying to calm you down, they can't touch you because it drives you crazy, which isn't exactly...welcome, when you're trying not to driven crazy.
So I stared at my hand in his, my fingers numb and my chest aching.  Why didn't I just go past him?  Had there been an opportunity to go past?  I didn't see one.  Oh God, what if there was as I was just standing there like a moron.  Why am I stressing about this now?  That was a few moments...minutes ago.  Why did I always he to do this?  Can't I just hold his hand and not feel like the whole fucking universe is crashing down at my feet?  Why can't I just calm down?  Why am I still standing here without saying anything?  What's he thinking of me now?  Probably that I'm some freak who can't answer a simple. Fucking.  Question.
"You're crying."  He said, putting his hand in my cheek, which sent fireworks wild at his touch.  I was crying?  I touched my own face, feeling it was wet with tears. 
"M-my eyeshad-dow..."  I managed, seeing the dark smears on my palm.  Princey smiled slowly at my remark, most likely thinking I'm being sarcastic but no, I was in fact, very upset that my eyeshadow was fucked up.
"It's okay,"  He told my, tightening his grip on my right hand.  No...no it's really not...
I shook my head and sat down, trying to get in air, and pulling him down next to me.  Why was he not mocking me?  I was obviously failing at life and he wasn't laughing at it. My mind drifted to my hand in his and his other hand was around my shoulders and we just sat there in silence, which must've been difficult for someone like Prince.
Who can't stay quiet for more than a few moments.