timothee imagines

moving on with you

TRIGGER WARNING : this made me really fucking sad to write. this mentions drug abuse so beware.

LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING TO GET FULL EFFECT

i'm in love w this and i had fun writing it

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It's been a week without you.

I'm truly suffocating from your absence, and to put it in more words, it feels like a lifetime has passed since I last saw you. I can't remember the last time we were apart for this long. I'm not used to it and I can't bear it.

Where are you? Why haven't you called? What did I do? Did I even do anything? Are you okay? Are we okay?

Jesus.

My mind goes in circles about it every second—every minute of the day. I can't sleep because my head won't shut off. I can't eat because I feel so sick. I can barely get out of bed and take care of myself because I can't think of a good reason to anymore.

I needed you. I still need you.

"Hey," a voice sounds in my room and I look away from my blank ceiling to see my sister, Lily. I hadn't even heard her knock.

"Hey," I say, my voice weak.

Once she has my attention she pushes her body further into my room and I see the plate in her hand.

"I brought you some stuffed chicken shells—your favorite—"

"I'm not hungry, Lil," I immediately interject, moving my eyes away from the food I would have normally been excited for but now I just feel sick at the thought of eating it.

"Dani," she sighs, "you need to eat something."

"I can't." I swallow, the tears beginning to swim in my eyes.

My eyes return to the ceiling, my heart aching terribly again—though, it never really stopped. From day to night, it never does.

Another heavy sigh comes from her as she sits down the plate on my dresser before sitting down on the bed. She reaches out to touch my leg and my reflexes are quick to pull away from her. Lately, I can't stand the feeling of physical contact or affection.

"I'm sorry," I apologize when she closes her eyes momentarily, slightly hurt.

"You've missed a week of school," she states. "I'm really worried about you, Dani," she tells me and I swallow. "Everyone's really worried about you."

"I know," I admit but I don't know what to do about it.

"Maybe you should talk to someone about. . . it." I notice her voice is cautious and I inhale, shaking my head.

"Complaining about it won't bring him back," I tell her.

"But. . . you can get some advice on how to cope," she says and I watch her observe my physical state. I know my hair is a matted mess, my face is pale from seeing no light and I'm wearing the same clothes I wore two days ago. I can't. I just can't. "How to move on."

"I'm not moving on," I state, becoming agitated. I can't move on. I have no closure. I have nothing. I can't just move on from him. He was my best friend—my everything and he still is. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Dani—"

"Lily, please!" I cry loudly, staring at her with tears in my eyes. "I'm not," I swallow, "—I can't."