Tuesday, April 15

It's finally beginning to look like spring outside, without the rain. Something about spring showers put me in a terrible mood, so when I saw there were flowers blooming I felt overjoyed. But my joy was short lived, unfortunately. This morning I was faced with a rare sight of America having a night terror. To be honest I have never been in this kind of situation, so my first instinct was to shake him. He was muttering like mad and sweating profusely until he finally he woke up. He seemed to calm down and everything was fine, but I can't help but wonder what it was all about. Maybe he'll tell me soon.

Besides that, the day was normal. He wanted those atrocious hamburgers for dinner (not a surprise) and I gave in. Something about those big blue eyes get me everytime. Damn him. Maybe one day I'll be able to say 'no'. Probably not, to be completely frank.

-Arthur Kirkland

Wednesday, April 16

Today was… Interesting to say the least. No, that isn't the right word at all. More like terrifying. It started off fine with America waking me up romantically (as much as I hate to admit it) but something about him seemed unusual. His eyes were dark underneath as if he had not received any sleep. I asked him about it and he said he pulled an 'all-nighter' and I let it slip by without a second glance. That was a huge mistake on my part.

We had a world meeting today which wasn't strange or anything, but things got completely out of hand. First of all that bloody twat France decided to make a fool out of me and that never goes down easily. In no circumstances would I ever give in to that frog's shenanigans. But that was expected of him. He always makes a fuss and tries to make me mad. What really made the meeting horrific was America suddenly… passing out. France had said something that obviously upset him, and out of no where he started getting defensive and he just hit the ground. I was scared. So scared, in fact, that apparently I had started crying.

After he woke he tried to laugh it off, which isn't out of his character or anything, but after something so shocking, I couldn't believe that he was just acting as if nothing had happened. He also screamed that he "wasn't a liar" whatever that meant... Germany called off the meeting (a good decision on his part) and I asked America to explain to me what had happened on the way home. That's what I'm waiting for now, actually. He's taking a shower and I'm waiting for him to get out so that I can properly understand what took place today.

-Arthur Kirkland

Thursday, April 17

America had another nightmare. He actually kicked me off of the bed this morning, mind you. I don't understand what caused it though. Last night was normal enough. We were kissing during a thunderstorm and being the 'hero' that he is, he got frightened and gave up. So we ended up cuddling (Not that I minded it, I just thought it was a rude interruption. Curse you thunder...) . He seemed happy enough and we fell asleep together.

But something set him off in the morning. He was kicking and screaming as if he was in pure agony. It was terrible to watch, and I couldn't do anything about it! Hell, what was I supposed to do? Shaking him didn't work, and neither did yelling, so I just sat there defenseless until he knocked me to the ground with a forceful kick. Finally he awoke but he claimed that the nightmare was no big deal. I should not have believed him.

It only got worse too. As soon as he had said nothing was the matter and I invited him downstairs, he rushed to the bathroom and I could hear him screaming furiously about something. He said he 'needed answers'. About what, I'm not sure. And then he suddenly punched our bathroom mirror which sent it shattering to pieces! What the bloody hell has gotten into him?! It was horrible! I could see his hand bleeding, and then he started crying wildly! I didn't know how to respond to the shocking incident so I went up to him and tried to comfort him as best as possible, but I'm still not sure if it helped. I banaged his hand and arm and now I'm just waiting for him to return home on his walk. He said he needed to think things through.

I sure hope he's alright. It's beginning to worry me.

-Arthur Kirkland

Friday, April 18

I forgot to mention something that occurred yesterday. I was fixing up a light on our roof when America returned home, and he seemed to have a sudden headache and he went to his knees in pain. That is, I thought it was a headache, but he started mumbling phrases like "Don't leave me England". I'm not sure if it was because he was in pain, that he didn't want me to leave him, or if it was something else. I truly hope that it is not the latter.

-Arthur Kirkland

Monday, April 21

I'm terribly concerned about America. Everything is going downhill, and I don't understand it one bit. Today France said something today that drove him to the point of attempted murder. It started out as painless flirting with me, but it somehow landed on America and I's relationship. Or, rather, our relationship in the past. According to frog face, America used to hate me, which I know for a fact is not true in the slightest. We faced some challenges, but doesn't everyone?

It all happened so fast however. One minute it was America standing up and protesting, and in the next France was being strangled against the wall by said blonde. I couldn't hear their conversation, but all of us sat in suspense just expecting America to murder France right in front of our eyes. The whole day was full of appalling surprises. The two had a conversation and then America let go of him, looked as if he was about to cry when he stared straight at me, and then ran out the door just like that. France had a look of victory. Sick, perverted bastard. I wish America would have strangled him right then and there.

I figured he came home and, fortunately or unfortunately, I was correct… And this is why I'm getting more and more worried by the second. I found America in our bathroom upstairs and… Not only was he sobbing in the corner, but he had cuts all along his arm. That he had made himself. America hurt himself. I can't even properly write this statement out without staring in disbelief. My wonderful, loving, outgoing, proud, fun-loving America had hurt himself on purpose, because of something France had said. And, according to him, it was the war. Oh god, the war. He told me he hurt himself because of memories of the war. I tried to help him, but I only hurt him more. I feel absolutely terrible. I feel like I'm making things worse, but.. Right now I'm letting him sleep. He asked to sleep alone tonight, and why wouldn't I let him? He looks as if he hasn't properly rested in days, and after this whole ordeal… I just hope he is well enough to explain to me what has happened in the morning.

-Arthur Kirkland

Tuesday, April 22

No.

No.

No.

I am an absolute idiot. Why must my anger come out at the worst of times? America was trying his best to explain his feelings, and I completely threw a fit and left him in the dark. I had my reasons though… He mentioned something about lying to me - about his happiness all of these years. Is he trying to say he isn't happy being with me? Right now I'm not so sure. He says he meant with himself but.. What does he really mean? I wish I hadn't slammed the door like that. I really didn't mean to come across so harsh but my emotions got the better of me. To be told that I've been lied to was really quite a shock, and quite frankly I think I handled it the way anyone would have. No one likes being lied to. But, with how things are now, I should probably speak to him and apologize for my behavior. It wasn't right of me to leave so abruptly.

To be honest, I think he needs some help. Professional help from a therapist or doctor. I don't want to see him hurt himself any longer, and I just want to see his smile again. Is that too much to ask? And I'm certainly not helping with my horrible attitude. But I don't think he will listen to me right now, since we're fighting and all. I think I'll ring up his brother, Matthew, and try to get him to convince America to go.

-Arthur Kirkland

Thursday, April 24

Progress.

There is finally progress. America - no - Alfred and I visited his therapist after a short misunderstanding involving France, but he finally revealed everything. It was a horrible experience for the both of us, but I am glad he finally told me the absolute truth. I hated seeing him so broken, however. It hurt me even more than it hurt him. To know that I was the cause of all of this? I never had the intent to make him feel so worthless during the war. Yes, it is true that it killed me inside to see him leave and to see him grow up wanting me out of his life but… I can understand. He wanted to prove himself to me, but with his stupid teenage mindset. I don't blame him at all. It just hurt.

Perhaps it was like losing a child. Not physically losing one, but losing them as they grow up and drift apart from you. As weird as it may be, I was always in love with him. Yes, call it disgusting, but even as a child. There was always something more than just that 'brotherly' love we shared. Something more that I couldn't explain until now. Until I saw him move away from me. That's the only reason why I cried. Not because of the physical pain or the war. Not because I was losing land. No. I was hurt by the fact that I may never be with him again. I was too afraid that he would never want to see me again, and all that we shared was lost. So I set up a barrier around myself so that I wouldn't seem weak. I didn't want to be taken advantage of because of my sadness. And that barrier has never been broken, which is the saddest part of it all. I constantly told him I hated him, how I never wanted to see him again, when my heart said the exact opposite. I think it was because I was afraid.

Afraid for what he felt and thought. I didn't want to be seen as weak and vulnerable. I was just as powerful as him - if not more.

But I'm getting way too deep into this historical event. And that is just what it is - history. It's in the past, and should be forgotten. I never expected him to confess his love for me, but when he did I don't think I could have been happier. Our feelings were mutual after all, and I had nothing to worry about. I forgive and forget quickly, so why shouldn't he? I don't understand why he is clinging onto the past, and hurting himself for it. I think the guilt is too much for him to handle. So, I am going to try my best to heal him like he healed me when he told me those three simple words all those years ago. "I love you." If it was enough to make me break down in joy in front of him, I'm sure it will work for him as well. Let's just pray it does.

-Arthur Kirkland

Slowly, I closed the leather bound diary, placing it back into the drawer with the smallest of smiles. Just reading the cursive words he wrote was enough to make me realize how much he truly cared for me. And really, that's all I needed to see. Before I had time to shut the drawer I looked over towards the door-frame and saw none other than England standing there, leaning against the entrance with his arms crossed. How long had he been there?

"Do you finally understand?"

I remained quiet, letting our gaze meet. It wasn't tension-filled or awkward at all. In fact, it was kind of relaxing just to look at him. Finally it didn't hurt to stare into his eyes.

"Can't you see I love you now, America?"

I nodded because I was at a loss for words.

"Good." He walked towards me, hand extended, "Now come on. I have a date planned out tonight, alright?"

My large blue eyes, hidden behind glasses, widened in surprise and excitement. Did he just say he planned a date for us? Usually I'm the one doing that!

"Where are we going?" I asked softly, wrapping my arm around his waist.

"You'll just have to see."

Longest chapter so far! I was asked to include England's point of view, which I thought was an excellent idea, so hopefully I did the idea justice! (Thank you Lily~)

I hope you all will stay tuned for the last chapter! Love you all~

-Feli