I can hear Phil laughing down the phone to her. I don't even know how long I've been listening in on their conversation but I almost can't help it, the thin walls making it all too easy. Perhaps the worst thing about this entire thing was that I don't want to and can't hate her, because she is truly a really nice girl - one totally deserving of someone as lovely as Phil and one who makes him happier than I've ever seen. They deserve each other and I would just have to accept that.
Phil laughs again and I feel the crack in my heart split some more. God, it fucking hurts.
"Sure, Lily, see you in an hour... ok, bye!" Phil says and I hear the bedsprings creak as he gets off his bed, presumably making his way over to me to tell me he's going out. Time to pretend I don't care.
As expected, Phil's head pokes through my door, bearing that look he has most days now. He looks so happy and the dull rage in my chest simmers down when I'm faced with his beaming face because no matter how much I might wish he was mine, he wasn't, and if that was how it was going to be, I want him to be the happiest he can be. Clearly Lily is very good for him. My heart ached.
"Hey Phil, what's up?" Smile. Scroll generically. Look up for a second. Look down. Scroll some more. I've got this acting down.
"I'm going out with Lily in a bit, I might be back late so don't wait for me to eat, ok?" I could see he was practically bursting to go get ready for his date, yet the fact that he is considerate enough to worry about me too is one of the things I love most about him.
"Mhmm, ok," I say - can't look too bothered - and his head disappears in less than a second.
Deciding my bedroom is getting too crowded in my head, I go to sit in the lounge and play Halo for a while. Having our rooms next to each other is too distracting in my already over-flowing mind with Phil-related crap.
Half an hour later, Phil appears in the lounge dressed handsomely in a quirky red shirt and black skinny jeans with his beautiful hair styled to perfection. I think that for a second there, my heart forgot how to function. He looks beyond gorgeous and there is nothing more in the world I'd rather have, than Phil in my arms.
Phil looks at me expectantly, "So, how do I look?" he says, twirling like a girl. I laugh, he's so cute.
"Just beautiful," I say laughing again to let him think I'm joking, or it'd just be weird but he has no clue how much I wish he knew how motherfucking gorgeous I thought he was.
"Thanks, anyways gotta go, bye - there's leftover pizza in the fridge by the way!" And with that he's out the door.
I don't know what happened then because I suddenly burst into tears. I cry and cry and cry and I don't want to stop or move. Just sit here in the lounge and cry for myself in pity and the pain of unrequited love. The dam has been broken and it is too late. My eyes grow puffy and my salty tears dry on my face hardening there as though to preserve my pain. I can see myself in the now-black screen of our TV and I hate it.
When Phil and I were both single, it was easy to deal with the fact that even though I loved him, it didn't matter that he didn't know because he didn't have anyone either. But now, especially when he is so happy, I can't possibly do anything about my feelings now. I want him to be happy and he is. I miss the days when I was his only commitment.
No longer able to stare at my tear-wrecked face, I go to wash and calm down. It's ok, I tell myself but I mostly don't want to think about what would happen if it's not. Phil had saved me all those years ago from my depression, I wasn't about to let myself ruin his hard work. It's 9pm, I've been like this for four hours and I'm finally exhausted enough to lay down on the sofa and let the darkness pull me to sleep.