Greta Van Fleet // Oneshots

I'm So Tired // Danny Wagner

Warnings: none

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You were just tired. Tired of being given mixed signals; tired of being strung along; tired of opening your heart up just to have it kicked around. You told yourself you were done--done with trying to make things work when they just weren't and done with letting yourself get hurt by someone who didn't care as much as you did.

You were tired but you still forced yourself to get up on your day off versus lying in bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone and tossing and turning under the covers, as tempting as that was. You knew you needed to be productive--you always felt better when you were busy. Besides, a clean home equaled a clean mind, right?

It did help, picking up all your clothes from your bedroom floor and folding them, putting them in their respective drawers and on hangers to wait in the dark. You even felt a little rejuvenated so you decided to dust everything; then you cleaned all the windows, shining away the streaks so the glass shone in all the afternoon sun; you vacuumed; you cleaned the inside of the fridge; you kept going until there was nothing else to clean.

With nothing else to clean--nothing else to do--you sat down in the middle of the floor, suddenly feeling exhausted and depleted, your mind still swimming with all the words. All the words you wasted and all the words he failed to tell you. Worse--the words he told you that felt like they dug a knife right into your core.

You sighed, knowing you couldn't fight the frenzied feelings alone this time. But you had talked endlessly to your friends about what was going on and they didn't understand--they were having a good time seemingly all the time. They told you to move on, that he wasn't worth it, that you needed to just have fun. They just didn't get it. It wasn't that easy for you even if it was that easy for them.

Still, you really didn't want to be alone.

You scrolled through the contacts in your phone, glancing over the names and vetoing them all in your head. You went back up to do it all over again, the insidious feeling of hopelessness growing in your gut.

Danny. Danny, with the tiny music note emoji next to his name. You liked Danny--you hadn't seen him in a while since he was often busy with his band, but occasionally you ran into each other and, back in the day, you two had even shared some quality time. Sometimes still he would send you a random text here or there but what always made you smile was when he would send you a song. You two would send links back and forth, texting about the different songs, genres, musicians, everything, analyzing the lyrics and going over the tonal changes and guitar riffs. No one in your life understood you and music like Danny did.

You put your phone down--you didn't feel like you could text him for no reason. You guys always talked about music so that would have to be the reason. You waded in your own thoughts for a few minutes, trying to think of something, and then you got it--Danny loved The Beatles.

You took a chance--you texted him asking if he wanted to come over and watch the new John Lennon documentary--and were surprised at how quickly he texted back. Even more surprised when he agreed to the plan.

Your body felt a little stiff as you got up from the floor and, when you went to the bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror, you sighed. The sweatpants, sweatshirt, and your hair in a messy top-knot weren't necessarily doing you any favors but you didn't feel too compelled to change--so you compromised, swapping your sweatpants out for jeans and calling it a day.

The vibration from your phone sent butterflies to your stomach--Danny was outside. Suddenly you felt very aware of yourself and your surroundings and you had to remind yourself that it was just Danny. You just wanted to relax and that was it and Danny was easy to relax around, even if you did feel butterflies then.