I spent my Valentine’s day wishing I could sleep.
Not because I was particularly tired, or that I could miss the whole thing… A lot of the time I forget that I even used to sleep, what it was like. I don’t miss or long for sleep. There’s so much people miss out on when they’re sleeping, I think, and… not that I blame them for sleeping. But there’s so much that happens, all the time… and I don’t really miss it. But I did last night. I spent half my day ruining one bloke’s date proposal and the other half following his prospective date around. Not a waste of time, I don’t think. But Tramp probably thinks otherwise.
The thing is, see—I’m… terribly scared. Always, this—fear of something. It looms. And it sounds bloody stupid and pathetic and I should just get over it but every time something stops me and pulls me back. I don’t know. I don’t know what it is. Trust me, my life would be so much easier if I did know. Well, my… existence, would be much easier. I wish I knew.
And all I know is that I am, and that’s what stops me. I just get so scared. So scared that—something is going to go horribly, horribly wrong. And it’s the unknown, it’s—it’s foreign. This—this need and this uneasiness inside of me is awfully large and so—strong and it scares me. And—It’s so stupid, but I feel very… alone. I can’t talk to anyone about it, ‘course I bloody can’t. Who would understand me, right? Who—in this… time, this place… Would understand…?
...Edan fell asleep on the couch, watching—I don’t know what, I wasn’t really paying attention. And I was sitting there, on the arm, kinda next to him, just… thinking. And I get into such a—a place, when I think. It gets… deep, you know, I start thinking about a bunch of rubbish that I wouldn’t normally consider half the time, but I was there, in front of the tv with Tramp half-snoring beside us and I start thinking about everything that went on that day.
I sent him flowers. Bloody—flowers! Didn’t say anything but I just did. I didn’t even really think about it, I just sent them, and…
It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have done it. I feel like I’m leading him on. Am I leading him on? I didn’t say anything, I just…
I did mess up that—Fiyero’s stupid…
I got jealous. And then the moment it comes down to it, what do I bloody care? I’m never going to do anything, right?
I was thinking all these things—about how it would probably be best off if I just left, because then Edan would probably find someone nice and I’d do fine on my own, and… go about my normal life—death—And I realised that the telly was going berserk—sometimes it does that. Like—when I’m not focusing I set off electrical equipment. Some paranormal side effects I suppose.
It settles down and Colin Firth is going off on one to a British Renee Zellweger.
I turned the stupid thing off and suddenly everything is very quiet and—empty, somehow. And I sat down next to Edan and I’m staring at the black screen where Colin Firth was saying the immortal lines "But the thing is, um, what I'm trying to say-- very inarticulately-- is um, that-- perhaps, despite appearances-- I like you. Very much.", and I don’t know what it was or—if it was intentional, maybe just the shift in weight or energy or something…
But Edan moved closer to me. I think he thought I was Tramp because he didn’t even seem too deeply asleep and I’m pretty sure he pet me on the shoulder as if it were Tramp’s stupid head, but.
I don’t know, it felt nice.
I just sat there. The whole night, I sat there, with Edan asleep around me and Tramp snoring in our laps. I couldn’t really move without disturbing them, but—I didn’t want to, either.
I studied Edan’s hands. Every single line, every crease—every point where a needle had slipped and pricked his skin. I think I know his hands better than I know my own, now.
He smells like cinnamon and fresh autumn air and old paper and soft fabrics, clean laundry. And he has hands that are good to hold. He really does. Stupid, but he does. And every part of me ached, ached as I watched him. Studied his hands and I was so careful—so cautious. So afraid. It was if I was handling something so fragile—and if he were to stir I’d leave. I’d leave immediately. But he didn’t. So I stayed. And I stayed like that for the whole night, just wishing—wishing, I could sleep beside him. Not anything else, just… rest. Because Edan makes me feel at peace and that—that in itself is terrifying. I wished for sleep, but I was so scared that if I did I wouldn’t wake up.
Perhaps that would be best for all of us.
I’m a mess, that much is true. I don’t really feel like it most the time, but when stuff gets—real, like that? Yeah. Yeah, I know that I’m a complication of all these flaws and fears and faults. And I’m constantly teetering between falling off one wagon or falling off another. I… I don’t like seeing Edan with anyone else but I can’t stand him being alone, or sad, or… I can’t get the courage to do whatever it is I want to do but I can’t be happy sitting back and watching, and… That’s bad. That’s really, really bad. It’s selfish.
And I just wished I could’ve escaped all that thought for just a moment, to just drift off as I was figuring out how it was that his hands seemed to fit perfectly with mine.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I do know that I can’t do this. I can’t—sleep beside him or be with him. For so many reasons, and half of which I don’t even know, I’m not aware of… But I can’t do it.
It’s not fair. On anyone, it’s not fair…
I just wanted to sleep.
