hating me for loving you {h.s}

Chapter 5.

*PHOEBE'S POV*

Sleeping is always something I struggled with, but never like this.

It's been an hour since I left the bar, Harry never came running after me, which I wasn't complaining about then, but I'm complaining about it now. I shouldn't have even tried to sleep, because I know I can't if he's not in my presence.

It's like all the trauma made me go sleepless then, so it wants me to suffer now.

I don't even know what it is, but I don't think I want to anyway. Could it be my mom? That I abandoned her?

She did it first. Well technically, my dad did it first. But, I forgive him because he still tries. He still wants contact with us, he still wants to be in our lives.

And the good thing is, I want to be in his too.

With that thought on my mind, I can't sleep. It's like I'm drowning, and there's no way to get out until that specific person comes to help. In my case, it's Harry.

Music has always been an escape. Maybe it can help me right now, help this feeling of drowning turn to floating. Making it out of the water.

I unwrapped the blanket on Harry's bed off of my body, getting up slowly because of the dizziness the alcohol cost me. I walked over slowly to the electric guitar that I brought with me, it's my baby. I plug the cord into the end, allowing all of the sound to come out of the loud speakers. No one's home, I'll play as loud as I want.

Deciding to play random shit, I start off with the C chord, moving to Dm, then to F. I like this progression, now I just need to speak my mind. Now I need to let the trauma shine in.

"Throw me in the deep end, I'm ready now to swim... The air in my lungs may not last very long but I'm in." I start off, singing out softly, still strumming those three chords accordingly.

"I see you on the weekend... Dancing like a star." Harry and I used to hang out every weekend when we were little, we'd have dance parties and sing together. My heart hurt. "You've practiced your lines to convince us you're fine, but I know, that's not where you are." I put everyone's problems before my own, I convince everyone I'm fine, and later everyone convinces me to shove my problems down their throats.

"Once in a blue moon, you may come undone... We're made up of the same blood." H and I are practically blood, just in a different way. But I'm glad we aren't at the same time. "I'll be your medicine if you let me, give you reason to get out of bed."

Harry is my medicine. And I wish I could take it.

"Sister I'm trying to hold off the lighting, and help you escape from your head..." The first thing I need is help to escape my own head, my own thoughts. I wish I wasn't so stubborn or even helpless.

I sang the rest of the song out loud, letting random lyrics slip from my mouth to perform my own song. I'm proud of it, but the stories behind the lyrics aren't the happiest.

That's alright, I'm not happy either.

I don't know why this wave of sadness came over me in the past week, being here in Jamaica was supposed to heal that patch. Depressive episodes come and go, and I was hoping they wouldn't come here.

That was wishful thinking, mindless dreaming.

It's now 4am, I haven't been able to sleep, and Harry never came home. It's been 6 hours, and no text. No calls. No nothing.

  I decided to come down to the couch and watch Tangled, Pascal was calling my name at 4am.

I'm hoping that it was him giving me space, and not him doing something stupid or hurting himself in any way. I feel silly wanting to call him, especially since I'm the one who stormed out and completely shut him out.