Valentine's Day - Part 1
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The abhorrent, gut-wrenching feeling of coming so incredibly close to losing someone dear to you is something I'd never wish on anyone. Pulling a knife out of a puncture wound, bleeding yourself into a dark, spiraling hole that seems impossible to climb out of - how you may describe the unavoidable "what ifs" that come to mind. You can only fight so hard to stop it, but once too much control is lost, you're left with nothing but a struggling heart and a headache full of thoughts.
So let him be my Romeo if I am Juliet, mourning what could have been a great loss. But if there's anything I've learned from my school-enforced Shakespearean analysis, it's that violent delights have violent ends. Sometimes, wake-up calls are necessary, even if not requested. My eyes have been opened to see that I have experienced what may be the most violent of delights, therefore my violent end is destined to come. But if not today, when?
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I always knew there had to be a reason I hated February fourteenth. And the last 24 hours I've experienced have been nothing short of a stomach-sickening roller coaster, deepening my extreme hatred towards the day of love. Why? Because it's been the exact opposite. Turns out, it wasn't the pity balloon gestures or the giant boxes of "I'm sorry" chocolates that I hated so much. It was the pure evil that roamed the streets at night, the kind that never brought along an apologetic teddy bear.
I know that negativity is never a good thing, but there are times when the bad just outweighs the good. It's like spilling wine all over a brand new white shirt, knowing deep down that stain is not coming out. But there's nothing you can do. No matter how much you want to go back in time, and stop yourself from pouring the glass, you can't. And that is a horrible feeling of guilt.
And as I lay awake, physically in the exact same position as I was in just over 24 long hours ago, I think back on the day I just experienced. If I compiled an entire week's events into one moon's rotation around the earth, it wouldn't even come close to the trauma experienced just this single time around. I wonder if I could travel back in time, is there anything I could've done differently? I thought about if he had just taken the car like I told him to. I thought about if I had just gone with him. I thought about if I had never even suggested the flowers in the first place. I thought about if he never left. I even thought about the possibility of me keeping my mouth shut.
* * *
It came quicker than I had anticipated. And although it had only been February 14th for nearly an hour, the day had already felt neverending.
I lay on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling above my head. The room was so dark, Spiderman could have been sitting on the ceiling and I wouldn't have seen him. It was hard to tell if my eyes were actually open, so I blinked more frequently than normal just to prove to myself that they in fact were.
I couldn't sleep. My mind was too awake, thoughts racing around the perimeter of my brain like cars on a racetrack. Thoughts of Jess' pregnancy, Noah's death, and Harry and I's relationship all made an appearance.
I understood Harry's frustration with my wanting to go home to Jess. But he also needed to understand where I was coming from in that situation. Jess had been my main priority for the longest time, and it was unfair for Harry to ask me to leap away from that. I can ease away from my old habits, but that takes time. Things like that don't just change overnight. It was going to take time, especially while Colorado was still my home, and I was still technically living with Jess.
Harry and I had been laying in bed for a few hours now since he had to get up at the asscrack of dawn for his radio show performance. He was sound asleep next to me, but my mind wouldn't even allow me to keep my eyelids shut for much longer than an extended blink. I didn't want to turn on the tv, or even be on my phone, fearful of waking him up. He needed his sleep, and if that meant I had to suffer in silence, then that's what I'd do.
But I wish I had something to distract me from falling down the rabbit hole of my own thoughts. Because I started off by scheduling a detailed agenda for my day, then somehow ended up wondering what would happen if Jess was pregnant with quintuplets and how big her stomach would stretch. Not sure where I made the wrong turn, but long story short, I had to change the subject quickly before I added a sixth baby to the mix.
Amidst the five babies and the time it took to shower and shave everything, one other thought really stood out to me. That was who I saw at the grocery store earlier the prior afternoon. It was that same man who had come up to me not too long ago, the one with the bright blue eyes. I could've totally been paranoid, but it felt to me like he was following me around the entire time I was there again. Like, I would turn the corner and it was like he was always there, just like the last time.
I started my trip to the store in the produce aisle since it's nearest to the front. I knew I wanted to make Harry some sort of special dinner for Valentine's. I wanted to make something that took a lot of effort so not only the time he was away would hopefully go faster, but so he'd appreciate the energy I was putting in and possibly consider it a gift. Despite my negative feelings towards Valentine's Day, there were many things I planned to give him, and I wasn't so sure dinner made it in the top three.
But near the vegetables was where I first spotted the blue-eyed man. There was something about the way his icy eyes pierced into me when he stared that sent immediate chills up my spine. As crazy as it sounds, I could feel when he was watching, like he had this sort of negative energy he carried along like a mysterious briefcase. He invited you in, but also sent off red flags in your head, warning you to stay far away.
I worried he'd follow me out to my car after the behavior in which he displayed inside the store. But once I stepped through the automatic sliding doors, the cold winter air spiking my cheeks, he stayed behind. I checked behind me several times, choosing safety over subtlety, but he was never there.
But the fact alone that anytime I looked back while inside the building, he was there...there's no way that was a coincidence. I thought about the possibility that maybe he was just trying to get through me to get to Harry. But that idea was even scarier than the idea of having my own stalker. I would never want to be used as leverage against someone.
The nearer I got to the time Harry should've been waking up, the more tired I finally got. I knew he had to be up super early, but I wasn't sure exactly what time. Finally, I decided it was time to force my eyes shut, and try desperately to get some sleep.
* * *
I heard Harry's alarm go off around 3:45 am, much to my surprise. I didn't even know what time the breakfast show started, but I imagine it was sometime around 7 or 8 at the latest. I also seemed to forget that Harry can't just roll out of bed for these things. He has things to do like makeup, hair, and outfit arrangements, not to mention sound check since he'd be performing on the show.
Luckily though, he didn't have to worry about his nails, because we took care of those last night. At the store, I saw a gorgeous red color that I wanted to have on my nails for Valentine's, and as soon as Harry saw the color, he decided he wanted the color on his nails as well. So now he and I have matching nails, which I find absolutely adorable, and something I'd like to make a regular thing for us.
The moment Harry rolled out of bed, however, I fell back asleep. I was way too tired from my seemingly endless spiral of thoughts to try to stay up while he rummaged around the house. I was sure he would at least come to say goodbye to me before he left, asleep or not.
What I wasn't sure of, however, was how long I had been asleep before the sun came beaming in through the sheer curtains of the window, waking me up. I must've been dead asleep because I don't remember waking up at all since the time Harry left. And when I checked my phone on the nightstand, I was surprised to see that it was precisely 8:43, meaning I had slept soundlessly for a good 5 hours.
Surprisingly, I felt fully rested. If I wanted to, I could literally jump out of bed. I'm sure it was just a random burst of morning energy, and I would be down early tonight. I hoped to God Harry wasn't planning on partying all night, and would maybe be interested in turning in early for the night. I can't imagine him not being exhausted after waking up so early this morning. And I'm sure the events destined to occur later on today may tire him out even more.
Rolling out of bed seemed to become my new instinct when it came to getting out of bed in the morning, regardless of my energy levels. Things like leaving behind the warm weight of Harry's duvet to come in direct contact with the frigid morning air aren't always the most enticing thing. Harry had recently switched to keeping the thermostat on a low setting at night, which started just a few nights ago after the nothing-but-a-t-shirt incident. I shouldn't complain, however. It forces us to cuddle up closer together during the night to keep warm.
I crossed my arms over my chest, goosebumps arising over my pale skin, as I dragged my feet down the stairs of Harry's house to the kitchen. I planned to make myself some breakfast, maybe put that waffle recipe to use, as a kind Valentine's gesture to myself. They say self-love is the most important love, after all.
I make my way down the hallway and the second I turn the corner to face the kitchen, my heart comes to halt, just as my heart does.
Amidst the squeaky clean kitchen, sitting on the far edge of the sparkling island was a large bouquet of pink and white lilies. He had already put them on display in a clear, cylinder vase, filled about halfway with water. I could see his florist dreams coming into play with this work of art of his.
I smiled to myself as I wandered over to the bouquet, wanting to get a closer look at Harry's work. Looking over the flowers, I noticed an extra, clear stem sticking up from the very center of the group, a neatly folded piece of paper attached to the end. Gently, I slipped the notecard out of the plastic prongs, unfolding it carefully.
Good Morning Beautiful,
I hope you slept well. I can't apologize enough for having to leave this morning. Our day starts the moment I get home. Until then, here are some flowers to hold you over until then. I'll see you soon baby.
All my love,
Harry
I smile to myself, goosebumps on my skin as I finish reading the letter.
I'd give anything for Harry to be here, and I know he will be later. So until then, I'll just have to wait.
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a/n: and so it begins ð¥²