Letters to Phil. (Phan)

Letter Eight.

February 17, 2015

Dear Phil,

Hi. As you can see, I didn't end up dying. Pj had taken me to the hospital. Apparently, I didn't just try to drink myself to death, I had taken a lot of pills too. They pumped my stomach.

Pj has been watching me constantly, keeping me under suicide watch, I guess. He called you apparently. Or at least that's what you told me when you called me today.

I ended up crying. You were trying to get me to tell you why I did it, but honestly, I don't know an exact reason. Sure, a lot of it has to do with losing you, but you know me. I've always had some sort of problem.

When you called me, Pj left the room right as my phone started ringing. He told me he was sorry, and then left the room. And that was when I saw your contact name. I almost didn't answer, but I did. Because that slight hope in me sparked that it would be you asking when you could move back in.

But you immediately started with asking me what the hell was wrong with me. I knew you were mad. I knew you were upset. But I didn't know why. I didn't know what I did and that was when you told me Pj called you and told you about how I almost died because of my own stupidity.

That's when I knew that I had fucked up.

I had told you I was sorry, but you just kept asking why and I started crying. I tried to tell you I didn't know, that I was drunk and it was spur of the moment, but you just kept asking and that was when I practically screamed at you to stop. You did. And I think that's when you actually realized I was crying because you went quiet and said you were sorry.

You said you were sorry so many times, I had lost count. I kept crying. Pj had walked back into the room when I yelled at you. I was collapsed on the floor, crying, and he was trying to calm me down, but it wasn't helping. You had told me that you were worried about me. That you didn't want to lose me.

I informed you that you kind of already have. That's when you went quiet.

And that's when I heard you cry through the phone. The broken sob that reached my ears and shattered my entire being. You hung up. I haven't heard from you since.

I'm in my bed right now. Pj is more than likely over at your house, asking if you'll call me back, probably. I've been a wreck since you hung up. Knowing that I made you cry shatters me, but I'm too tired to do anything.

I'm tired, Phil. You know? Physically and mentally. I don't want to do whatever it is that we're doing anymore. I want it to stop, but I know that there are two options to stop it, one of them I'm dreading.

The one where you come home is the only one I want. The other one, where we stop talking all together, I don't think I can handle that. I struggle not talking to you on the daily, just think what I'll do when we stop completely.

Phil, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I don't want to lose that even if it means we don't live together. Please, just stay in my life.

I'm crying again.

Love,
Dan.