I walked with him, his fingers entwinded with mine. It felt, almost right. Still, the sinking in my gut was there. The pull to let go lingered behind us. I simply ignored it.
"Are you okay?" he asked, stopping and turning to face me. Andrew wasn't blind, and he wasn't an idiot. He knew there was something going on. I couldn't tell him though. How could I explain something I had little knowledge on myself?
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just a little tired," I lied, plastering on a fake smile.
"Are you sure?" Niall tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, looking deep into my eyes. I nodded, wanting to break his gaze, but not having the courage.
"I'm sure. I'd better get home," I told him, slipping my hand from his.
"Alright... Don't forget about my birthday party tomorrow. It won't be any fun if you aren't there," he reminded me, and the sinking in my gut got worse. It was as if a swarm of hornets was tying a rope in there.
"I won't. See you tomorrow." As I was walking away, I heard one last sentence.
"I love you." I wanted to say it back, because I did love him. It was my throat that stopped me from speaking, and my legs that forced me to keep moving. Sticking my hands in my pockets, I didn't look back. I just continued walking home.
Once I arrived at my house, I walked up the stairs to my room without as much as a single word to my family. Whether they ignored it, didn't care, or figured I needed time to myself, they didn't come up afterwords. My gut started to loosen up, but my mind was still foggy. As I entered my room, I closed the door and locked it.
I took a look over to my bedside table. There, sat a picture of me and Andrew. His brown hair was blowing lightly in the wind, and his arm was wrapped securly around me. My arms were snaked around his waist, and my head rested on his shoulder. Beneath us, was a green park bench. The photograph was framed in a black, stylish frame.
A lump rose in my throat, and the hornets were back in my gut. Without thinking, I knocked the frame off of the table, the glass shattering across the floor. The picture, however, remained unharmed.
My heart hurt as I picked up all the broken piecies. What was wrong with me? Nothing had been normal lately. Everything was messed up. Sighing, I heard my phone go off. I didn't care to answer it, no matter who was calling.
The pieces were off my floor and in the trash, so I plopped down onto my bed. I started rubbing at my eyes, as if it would do something. My whole life was ruined, my whole love was destroyed, and I didn't even know why. What had caused it? How was it allowed to happen? Most importantly, why couldn't I know what was going on? Questions swirled in my head, making it hurt more than it had ever before. I needed answers. Even though, something in me said, that I wouldn't get them, I knew I would. I just wasn't sure how much I'd like them.
I closed my eyes and tried hard to fall asleep. It was not an easy task. With an aching mind and a worrying gut, sleep was far away from my grasp. I kept trying to reach it, but it kept slipping away. Finally, I was able to drift off. Little did I know, sleep, was not the escape. It was the source of all problems yet to come.