Delude | h.s.

twenty nine

Are you thinking about me?
Are you taking the fall?
Or can you turn off the memory of me like it's nothing at all?
...
But when we're all alone
And you call my name
You show a side of you that never sees the light of day
Who Am I to You? - Nightly

♤

Layne

I can't stop thinking about how humiliated I felt on Friday night. It's almost debilitating.

The disgust and shame I feel for myself has consumed me for the past two days.

I haven't talked to Harry since Friday morning, and I haven't seen Harry since Friday night.

When he avoided me at Jack's, I felt like I was going to be sick because I was so embarrassed. I was so excited all day to see him that night, and he didn't even look in my direction.

I knew he was there because all of his friends were there, and I saw him sitting at a booth with Luke. We got busy so I had to tear my attention from him. After the rush died down, I looked at where he was sitting, and he had disappeared. I didn't see him for the rest of the night.

I wanted to punch myself for scanning the bar any chance I had in case he had come back.

Nicole noticed I was out of it and asked if I wanted to go home early. I said no even though I should have said yes. I was holding onto the hope that maybe, maybe he was going to come up to the bar with a shy, dimpled smile and talk to me while I worked.

But he never did, and I felt like an idiot for waiting.

I felt so stupid wearing his shirt, too.

When I was finally off, all I wanted to do was rip the fabric off my body. As soon as I walked through the door, I pulled the shirt over my head and threw it in my closet.

I didn't want to look at it and I didn't want to think about the way he had asked me to wear it just hours before.

I took a shower to rid myself of the night, took some melatonin, and went straight to bed.

Luckily, the pills helped but unfortunately there was nothing I could take the next morning to erase the events from my memory.

The worst part of it all is that the only thing I have wanted for the past two days is to talk to him.

It sounds annoying and stupid, I know, but I want clarification.

I'm so sick of his back and forth, his hot and cold.

He can't just expect me to keep up with his moods.

One day he carries me to bed and kisses me on the forehead; the next he gives me the silent treatment and tells me we're friends. Then a few days later he asks to share an intimate moment with me, and the next day he avoids me at all costs.

I can't keep up, and I am so tired.

Constantly being on one of the extremities of the emotional spectrum is killing me.

I know I said I didn't want Harry and I to stop whatever we were doing even though we are just friends, but now, I'm not so sure.

I don't think my heart, or my mind, can handle it.

Somehow, I wasn't scheduled to work last night, so I did some major cleaning of my apartment. I cleaned the kitchen, the bathroom; I did my laundry – including my bedding, and I even cleaned the floors with a bucket and a rag.

I was really channeling Cinderella.

The only reason I spent the entire day cleaning was because I needed a distraction.