It's always been them two.
And it's always been that bit more than they'd like to admit....
But with things getting in the way... as they grow up and take different paths...
How will things turn out and what will they be??
It's been two weeks since I last saw Matty. Of course we'd spoken. The odd text. Just checking in, asking how our days had gone. But nothing more. Nothing else. I was still upset with the situation and he was angry at how I'd taken it.
I already felt like I was losing him. Though a small part of me now wasn't sure how I even felt about him anymore. How I looked at him. Or what these weird emotions I'd been feeling recently were meant to be.
Looking through my phone of old and recent pictures of him and us. I find a way to try and break the ice - even though half of me felt I was best just leaving him be now. I already felt like he didn't have time for me now, or that he simply just didn't want me around now that he'd found his new found fame.
I pull up a picture and type a little something to go with it.
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Rememberthis?XxX♥️
Of course he doesn't even open the text. Not even ten minutes after it's been sent.
I was so sick of feeling like this already and he hadn't even gone yet. Sick of having to pretend things were ok. Pretending I was ok. Sick to death of his parents and even mine, gushing and banging on about how big and successful he was going to be.
It didn't matter that I was trying to make something of my own life. It made no odds to them that I was starting uni soon. Because apparently me wanting to become a doctor has little value to them. It's not nearly as impressive or important as him becoming this self titled, arrogant rock n roller. Everyone clearly cares more about his stardom than my hard work.
I'd already enrolled for my medical classes with some money I'd saved over the years and from my part time job at the cafe. To begin with, my classes start off as being only half day, so it means I can work and save as much as possible. Training to be a doctor doesn't come cheap.
Checking my phone again -- still not opened. I sigh as my mind wanders back to Matthew Healy.
Gone were the days when he'd always have his phone in his hand and reply back at supersonic speed. He'd no longer reply within seconds of my text being sent. His schedule was already clearly chockablock and he hadn't gone anywhere yet. On the off chance he did fit me in now, I'd get a reply anything between two to twenty four hours. So much for "pick up the phone when you need me"
My phone eventually signals a text.
OfCOURSE. Yr 8 musicclass withMissTonks! ThedayI thoughtitwasnone uniformday🤦🏼♀️🤦🏼♀️😂xx
Rememberthatcreepygirl thatstartedthatday, following youroundandtryingitonwith you, soyoumademekissyou onthelipssoshewould leaveyoualone???? 🙈🙈😂😂😂
Why was I suddenly bringing this up to him? The hell am I doing?
This is the moments I missed with this boy. It was effortless to talk... about anything.
Matthew??.... xx
🙄🙄🙄 matty*** andyesmylove? Xx
A part of me was telling me not to bother with this next message. Partly because I felt I'd only get some sarcastic reply. But because I wasn't even sure myself what I was fully meaning by it.
