I remembered.
I remembered that our friendship was okay, that it was intact. I remembered that I could hug him and he wouldn't flinch. I remembered that I could joke with him and he wouldn't glare. I remembered that if I told him I would ruin everything we built up together. I would ruin all of our laughs, all of our nights spent editing videos, I would ruin everything because people remember the restless nights; not the nights where they got plenty of sleep.
That's all I had to keep me going.
I remembered, and I thought about how fucking much it would hurt.
It would hurt to see the way he would look at me when he thought I didn't see him staring. It would hurt to hear the way he would talk about me when he would think I wasn't there. It would hurt to sense the desperation in his voice when he would ask if we could stay with Ricky and the others, just until "my phase was over." Or some other dumbass excuse.
It would hurt, God damnit, and I wouldn't be able to handle it.
I wouldn't be able to handle the thought of him despising me, the thoughts of him ignoring me, hating me, not enjoying my being there anymore.
So I didn't let it happen.
I never told anyone. I kept myself bottled up and enjoyed the little things before they would end, as I knew they would. I sat back and watched third person. I didn't let me worst fears come true, I couldn't. I let go of my main source of happiness. I didn't want him to hate me, or feel awkward around me, or want to get away from me.
I tried to let go, I really did, but if he left I would be alone, in the dark, because he was my moon. He was beautiful, hell, he still is beautiful. He is my only source of light and I'm drawn to him. I follow him, I stare at him, I love him, I truly do.
But everyone knows you can't catch the moon. You can chase it, but you sure as hell cant catch it. And everyone seemed to realize that but me.
But when I did realize this, it was a little bit too late.
💎
Tell me what you think.
-What a Pretty Little Nightmare