It was so depressing. He felt...alone. He was only now learning the true meaning of 'lonely boy'. And he wished he didn't have to know it.
His summer has been...unproductive. He didn't write. Georgina was expensive, and not helpful at all, and after writing the first sentence of the book he thought he should have written, he realised what a mistake that would have been. Entering the world of the people living in the most coveted area on Earth was the biggest mistake of my life. That wasn't true. He hated himself for typing those words, deleting them as soon as he read them over.
He has always considered himself as an honest person. Someone who does the right thing. And when he thought over that single sentence, he knew he couldn't write that book. He couldn't write a lie. Something good came out of his implication in the world of the filthy rich, and that wasn't his recent relationship with Blair. It wasn't even his father's second marriage. The Upper East Side permitted him to live his dreams; infiltrating the top echelons allowed him to love her. Someone he could have never loved otherwise. Serena van der Woodsen. And that made him think about one single thing for days on end afterwards. When and why did he ever stop?
Only at the end of the heat and sunny afternoons, once his father moved back to Brooklyn and their bank accounts returned to a relative normal, once everything was as it was long ago, he realised he had spent the whole summer thinking about her. Any aspect of her.
And so maybe you would have kissed me already.
Nobody's ever looked at me the way you just did.
Do you think it's cheesy?
You and I are forever.
This was never our problem.
We either sink or swim.
I love you, Dan Humphrey. Always have, always will.
It was as if he remembered everything. Every breath and touch and kiss, every aspect of her that made her her. He was sad, and depressed, and tired of everything, but the memories from what seemed like the happiest time of his life kept him afloat.
He knew he should have been mourning the recent loss of a relationship. But he couldn't help being happy for Blair. And Chuck, to some extent. And that feeling, something he couldn't quite control, made him wish the second he kissed Blair all those months ago was eradicated. That it had never happened.
One night, while walking through Central Park, he stopped at a bench that no one would ever consider looking at twice. A bench that, to him, meant more than it should have. He sat on its edge, and his brain wondered. Where did it all go wrong? Why did he ever let her go? Why was he regretting it now?
As he stands in front of the same bench once again, yellowed leaves beside it and the smell of change in the air, he realises he still had no answer to those questions. A summer wasted, and he was certain of one single thing. Entering her world wasn't the biggest mistake of his life. The biggest mistake was exiting it.
-xoxo-
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he glanced over caller ID. Blair. He contemplates not answering it, but when she calls again, there is an instinct that presses his thumb over the green button.
'Don't hang up. I need your help. Serena's missing.'
He's already calling a cab.