Adore You Too [H.S]

57 // I've Got Nothing But Love For You

Valentine's Day - Part 1
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The abhorrent, gut-wrenching feeling of coming so incredibly close to losing someone dear to you is something I'd never wish on anyone. Pulling a knife out of a puncture wound, bleeding yourself into a dark, spiraling hole that seems impossible to climb out of - how you may describe the unavoidable "what ifs" that come to mind. You can only fight so hard to stop it, but once too much control is lost, you're left with nothing but a struggling heart and a headache full of thoughts.

So let him be my Romeo if I am Juliet, mourning what could have been a great loss. But if there's anything I've learned from my school-enforced Shakespearean analysis, it's that violent delights have violent ends. Sometimes, wake-up calls are necessary, even if not requested. My eyes have been opened to see that I have experienced what may be the most violent of delights, therefore my violent end is destined to come. But if not today, when?

—

I always knew there had to be a reason I hated February fourteenth. And the last 24 hours I've experienced have been nothing short of a stomach-sickening roller coaster, deepening my extreme hatred towards the day of love. Why? Because it's been the exact opposite. Turns out, it wasn't the pity balloon gestures or the giant boxes of "I'm sorry" chocolates that I hated so much. It was the pure evil that roamed the streets at night, the kind that never brought along an apologetic teddy bear.

I know that negativity is never a good thing, but there are times when the bad just outweighs the good. It's like spilling wine all over a brand new white shirt, knowing deep down that stain is not coming out. But there's nothing you can do. No matter how much you want to go back in time, and stop yourself from pouring the glass, you can't. And that is a horrible feeling of guilt.

And as I lay awake, physically in the exact same position as I was in just over 24 long hours ago, I think back on the day I just experienced. If I compiled an entire week's events into one moon's rotation around the earth, it wouldn't even come close to the trauma experienced just this single time around. I wonder if I could travel back in time, is there anything I could've done differently? I thought about if he had just taken the car like I told him to. I thought about if I had just gone with him. I thought about if I had never even suggested the flowers in the first place. I thought about if he never left. I even thought about the possibility of me keeping my mouth shut.

* * *

It came quicker than I had anticipated. And although it had only been February 14th for nearly an hour, the day had already felt neverending.

I lay on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling above my head. The room was so dark, Spiderman could have been sitting on the ceiling and I wouldn't have seen him. It was hard to tell if my eyes were actually open, so I blinked more frequently than normal just to prove to myself that they in fact were.

I couldn't sleep. My mind was too awake, thoughts racing around the perimeter of my brain like cars on a racetrack. Thoughts of Jess' pregnancy, Noah's death, and Harry and I's relationship all made an appearance.

I understood Harry's frustration with my wanting to go home to Jess. But he also needed to understand where I was coming from in that situation. Jess had been my main priority for the longest time, and it was unfair for Harry to ask me to leap away from that. I can ease away from my old habits, but that takes time. Things like that don't just change overnight. It was going to take time, especially while Colorado was still my home, and I was still technically living with Jess.

Harry and I had been laying in bed for a few hours now since he had to get up at the asscrack of dawn for his radio show performance. He was sound asleep next to me, but my mind wouldn't even allow me to keep my eyelids shut for much longer than an extended blink. I didn't want to turn on the tv, or even be on my phone, fearful of waking him up. He needed his sleep, and if that meant I had to suffer in silence, then that's what I'd do.