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WARNING: NEGATIVE THOUGHTS, MENTION OF DRUGS

***

Dan's POV

I restlessly walked through the streets with my hood pulled up and over my face so that nobody would recognize me and to protect myself from the rain. London weather.

It was late and I shouldn't be walking here alone, but I didn't care. I didn't even know exactly how I ended up here. A few minutes ago I was with Phil, standing in the kitchen with him and doing the dishes, until I suddenly felt that I had to get out. Get out of the kitchen, the apartment, the world.

Maybe that's why I was so restless. There was an exit from the apartment, but not from the world. Phil had protested, wanted to join me, but I just shook him off. I think I even yelled at him. Did we have an argument?

I remembered Chris' birthday about a month ago. I remembered well how my dealer had sold me cocaine before Oliver picked me up to go to the party with them. I remembered Phil asking me to stop using drugs. That he told me, he had no regrets. How can he not regret?

I remembered how I left and was determined to leave everything I had behind me. How Phil had followed me and tried to keep me from leaving with Tyler but hadn't made it. That he wanted to tell me that he loved me but I didn't want to hear it.

I didn't know why I was thinking about all of this, but I did. As if I wanted to reconstruct how I ended up here. Not a bit better. Would it ever get better? Am I ever gonna be okay?

There were moments in my life when I was convinced that eventually everything would be fine. That I would get clean and have a normal relationship with Phil. But lately all of this has clouded over and I realized that it would never get better. Not after everything that happened. There was no happy ending.

It wasn't a movie. Phil's love wouldn't save or fix me. The problem was beyond repair. I had to learn to live with all of this and I didn't know if I would ever do it. And being with Phil, seeing him take care of me only made things worse.

Suddenly a car stopped next to me and because I knew directly whose car it was, I stopped. The door was opened from the inside and I immediately recognized Oliver looking at me wearily.

"Get in." He said softly but firmly and since I was honestly tired and no longer wanted to walk around the area without a hitch, I easily followed his request, which seemed to ease him, but suddenly his eyes filled with worry.

"Don't you want to go?" I asked after a while. The engine was on, the wipers were working and it was warmer in his car than outside. Warmer than inside of me. And suddenly I realized how tired I was. I was tired of everything, in every possible way, but I just wanted to sleep right now.

"Where do you want to go?" Asked Oliver and I looked up, whereupon I swallowed hard. I didn't want to see Phil. But at the same time all I wanted was to see Phil. And at the same time I just wanted to stay in this car with Oliver and be in the middle of London on the street. I felt my eyes fill with tears because the longer I couldn't formulate an answer, the more confused I became and the more afraid I was of what my hesitation was supposed to mean.

"I don't know." I answered after an eternity and looked at Oliver, felt a warm tear leave my eye, whereupon he swallowed hard, took a long breath and finally put his hand on my shoulder.

"Did something happen? Phil is worried. Why did you just go?" He asked gently.

"I don't know." I answered desperately, trying to suppress a sob. I looked at Oliver, but then immediately out of the window. I felt more and more tears find their way down and a short time later I didn't even try to hide it anymore.

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