You're The Straw To My Berry (Phan)

Part thirty-six

Dan P.O.V. 

America was certainly treating me well. 

I hadn't had any problems with anyone or anything, but that might've been because I hardly ever left my hotel room. Just the thought of knowing I was 5000 miles away from home gave me a sense of freedom and more than enough time and space to think. 

I didn't feel any pressure here. Completely cutting off contact and being alone let me find the Dan Howell I had previously lost, and now that I was myself my thoughts seemed a lot less cluttered. 

My body clock had finally gotten used to the 7 hour time difference and now I could sleep at night again like anyone else in the country. I had been sleeping a lot more than usual, but I only assumed that I needed it and didn't beat myself up about it. 

Feeling good one morning, I welcomed the sunlight that was seeping through into my room in the gaps of the curtains instead of shying away from it. I got dressed, throwing on a random shirt and shorts before attacking my hair with my brush to try and neaten it then left the hotel.

I enjoyed the warmth as I slowly strolled around the streets, not aiming to get anywhere in particular. Even though I wasn't a huge fan of interacting with them much, it nice to see humans again. Keeping yourself cooped up in a grotty room sometimes made you forget that there was other life out there. 

I found myself curious as to how they were all getting on at home. I still hadn't gotten into contact and I knew Phil would be upset which I felt bad about, but I hoped he wasn't worrying too much about me. I just hoped that he understood.

I allowed myself to immerse in memories of Phil and they made me smile but made me miss him more. 

Memories of when we drew cat whiskers on each other for no reason at all and we ended up in hysterical laughter. 

Memories of when we went on the London Eye but instead of being amazed by the view of the city our attention was only on each other. 

Memories of when something we were trying bake something and it went wrong so we had a food fight with it instead. 

And then there were the memories where we were just doing simple things like when we would hold hands when walking to town or when we would talk about anything with him laying in arms. 

All the memories I had with Phil were only ever positive, and the ones I shared with PJ just reminded me of the stress and anxiety, and yet I didn't regret them. 

I was still confused, but I knew sooner or later I would have to make a choice.