Almost two weeks later, I still feel like crap. My classes blur together, studying becomes a chore, only to be done the night before an exam. My professors notice, my friends notice, but most of all, Dan notices.
My grades drop. My videos are absolute crap, but no one seems to notice. Maybe the viewers realize that currently my life is a little insane and that I just need a break. Or maybe they were just awful before, and I'm only just now noticing.
Pj said things would get better if I took a rest, but I'm still resting. I've been resting for weeks now, and nothing's gotten better.
Gale never came back. All traces of him are gone now, even the scuff marks he left on the coffee table with his dirty black converse. I made sure to scrub those off, along with everything else in the house. Rather than study or make videos, I've taken to cleaning. Better than having to deal with actual people.
Two weeks after Gale stormed out, I get a call from Dan.
"Seriously. Mia. What's going on?"
I stare down at my thumbs, reminding myself to paint them before going out. Maybe that'll hide the fact that I've been biting them, an old nervous habit I thought I'd gotten rid of.
"I don't know... I'm fine, I'm sure. Just in a funk. Don't worry." My voice becomes unnaturally high, he knows I'm screwed up.
"Mia, I'm coming over. And I'm bringing PJ. And I'm calling Zoe because she knows about this stuff and I don't."
"Seriously, I'm fine. Don't call Zoe, she barely even knows me. Dan, please."
There's a moment of silence that I consider hanging up during, but I know it's no use. Dan's almost as stubborn as I am, and he's coming over no matter what. Even if it is nearing eleven and coming over now would mean spending the night.
"Listen, Mia, I'm coming over. I just want you to be okay again."
I sigh and end the call, putting the phone down and beginning the wait for Dan. Soon he'll be here with his "Internet Support Group" and Pj and maybe even Zoe, if my luck is that bad. I suppose he does kind of get where I'm at. This stuck feeling, like I can't do anything even if I want to, must be similar to an existential crisis. They're both depressing and fatalistic and generally horrible, also involving a lot of lying on the floor wishing you were just dead or something like it. Not that I was suicidal, I was anything but. Anyways, I would probably chicken out at the last minute and call a mental hospital to admit myself.
Dan knocks on the door only a few minutes after he called. He's fast. "Coming!" I yell, pulling on a jacket with my face on it. Only a little while after I dyed my hair, someone made a really nice hoodie with my new look on it. Since I looked so badass, I couldn't resist the urge to buy it.
"Nice jumper," he says, smiling nervously. He's making sure I'm not doing too badly, I guess, but I don't like it. He's been treating me like I'm five, like I need someone else to watch over me to make sure I don't stick my finger in an electrical socket. I don't.
"Thanks. You didn't have to come, you know."
"Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you, Mia Hatzidakis." I roll my eyes and sit down.
"Sure, Dan Howell. Do you want anything?"
"I can get it."
Things are more awkward than they were on the phone. I can't say anything, Dan can't say anything. The conversation is at a standstill.
"So I'm assuming you feel like shit?" he asks, smiling a little.
"Well obviously, you felt the need to come all the way over here. You didn't need to do this, you know."
"Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you?" he says, putting an arm around me.
"Seriously. I know you want to help me or whatever. I get I'm acting like a teen girl on Myspace, but really, I'm okay. I just need a bit of time to chill."
"Haven't you had a bit of time to chill?"
"Shut up."
"Just saying... So do you want me to call Zoe?"
I give him the 'hell no' glare and shake my head. "I'll be okay."
"You keep saying that, but as much as I trust I really don't believe you on this one."
We keep up that talk, although it never become casual. I'm constantly having to defend myself, trying hopelessly to prove I don't need help, or Zoe's guiding hand, or medication. Dan's still stubborn as a mule, as nonthreatening as he is. It's hard to defend something I know is false. I need help, but I don't want it. I want to be inspiring, not the YouTuber who called herself a role model but had to go to a therapist to fix herself.
"Can I at least help you somehow?" he asks, "How do you want me to help? And not but just sitting here. I can't watch you get worse and worse like this."
"I don't know... I just need some way to not focus on all this. For a while I guess that was YouTube, but now I feel like that's just freaking me out too... I guess it's just a matter of what distraction I choose."
"Well. You haven't been taking much of a break. We could always go one a trip, together. We haven't really hung out like that much, just one on one."
"Yeah we have, we do that all the time."
"Whatever. We haven't gone on any trips. I think we should!"
I look at him, not sure what to say. Going somewhere new would be great, but do I really want Dan to have to pay for a whole trip for me? Definitely not.
"Sure. As long as I pay for myself."
"Seriously? You're so humble and whatever, stop making me feel bad. But fine. This is going to be awesome."
"Yeah. I can't wait."
// HEYYY!! so this is the chapter, sorry its sooo sooo sooo late. Im performing in a musical tomorrow (Thursday) and twice on Friday, so I didn't exactly have time to write between all the crazy rehearsals. Plus the main character has this massive crush on me and theres this scene where I have to look him directly in the eye and he always like raises one eyebrow in this creepy way and like wont stop trying to sit next to me onstage *shudders*
ugh
2016 Edit:
holy shit 2016 me has a story about this kid that had a crush on me in theater omfg basically this kid (it had to be like the day I posted this or the day after wtf) I had to spot him (make sure he didn't fall and die) as he comes down from this pedestal so as I'm holding my hands up (im on the floor bc we're supposed to be praying or whatever) and this bitch GRABS MY HANDS AND SQUEEZES my mid-pubescent ass couldn't handle it so i low key stopped spotting him so he could've fallen and died mid-performance and it would've been my fault//
