Hello, this is 2012. Don't start the song yet, I'll tell you when.
I walk into the flat and toss my keys onto the table. I sigh as I pass Phil's bedroom. I haven't been in there in so long. We have barely talked aside from when we absolutely had to. I walk into my room and turn off the lights, letting just a candle and my fairy lights produce a small glow.
I regret it. I regret pushing him away after what happened with the video and what happened with us. We've become distanced and it's all my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at him. We shouldn't have fought. He shouldn't have slammed the door. We shouldn't have ignored each other when we tried to fix things.
I miss it. I miss him. I miss how we used to be. I miss the cuddles and the laughter and everything about him. I miss his smile, and his head on my shoulder. I miss the way he used to kiss my cheek before a run to the store or the fun videos we made. I miss the way his hand fit perfectly in mine and he would pace at night. I miss every moment we had before we fell out. I miss it.
I pulled out my laptop and logged onto tumblr. I soon found myself looking at the Phan tag. There were such beautiful drawings of Phil and I, happy and smiling. There were pictures from before the bad times. There were pieces of writing that were expertly written, sugarcoating our relationship.
But they were all fake. None of them were the real picture of how our life truly was. We haven't cuddled in seven months and fourteen days. He hasn't said he loves me for eight months and twenty-three days. We haven't had an actual conversation in six months and seventeen days. I haven't kissed him for nine months and six days.
I look back at my screen again. None of the pictures of plastered on smiles or fake happiness were correct. They weren't correct when they showed the sides of our faces happily squished together. They weren't correct when they showed edits of us together, smiling and laughing. The clips of videos weren't correct when they showed us talking easily and normally. I remember the first conversation we had in person.
Now I feel guilty. I feel guilty that the man I still love after all of this, who saved me from myself, who let me into his life and into his home, who did a million other things for me, who did everything for me, the love of my life, Phil Lester, is now in his room all day, sad, because of me. I feel guilty that I had pushed away the beautiful kind man that had been a perfectly okay with giving his life to me. I had wanted to give him mine. I don't know why I didn't.
A song popped up on my tumblr feed. I was curious, so I decided to click on it. It was apparently an edit of three songs put together. They were fanmade, about Phil and I.
I started the song, forgetting about my earbuds and playing the music out loud. The lyrics flowed softly from my speakers and I found myself singing along.
(Start the song now.)
I was dreaming, one night
Of your black hair, and your blue eyes
You had saved me, from the bad times
I was lonely, I was lonely
I was so lonely when he found me. It's true, he had saved me.
I had no friends, till' I was 18
Oh you saved me, I was lonely
I still love you, yes I'm sorry
But I still love you
I am so sorry.
Do you remember the time when we first met at the train station?
Do you remember the time when you said you loved me in the snow?
Do you remember the time when I kissed you on the Manchester Eye?
Do you remember the time back in 2009?
