I don't look him in the eye when he comes back into my bedroom, and I try not to resist the temptation of responding to his kind words. He reassures me things will be alright, as always, but I know that they won't be. Not really. I think that he knows it too, but he either won't admit it himself, or's hiding the truth from me, even though I already know it. As soon as I'm 'okay' again, I pull back from him, pushing him away and pulling myself out of his arms. He looks hurt at my gesture, and I feel bad, of course I do, but it's for the best. I don't want him to think I'm clingy. Besides, I can't rely on him forever. I don't want him to leave me, but he'll realize eventually that I'm just some selfish friend in love with him. That's when he's going to run. Run as fast as his legs will carry him. I know I would, I'm too much of a horrible person to say that I'd stay. 'Charlie isn't like you though', a voice at the back of my head reminds me. And I guess that he's not.
I clear my throat and he looks down at his feet. His arms are crossed and his hands are gripping his upper arms, so he looks like he's hugging himself to replace what I just ended.
"I-I'm sorry," I apologize quietly, for possibly hurting his feelings and waking him up in the middle of the night. I'm so selfish. I want them to stop, but only because of him, that's the only good enough reason. I'm still embarrassed about him having to run around after me, like I'm some sort of helpless child, which I suppose I kind of am at this point.
He shakes his head, still looking down at the floor, and he smiles slightly. I'm glad he's not looking at me. He can't catch secret, concerned glances at me, ones he thinks I don't see. He doesn't say anything, and I'm desperate to fill the silence, but I can't think of anything to say. The words wouldn't even come out even if I could, my throat's tightened, and it hurts to breathe again, like when I first woke up. I refuse to let myself gasp for air, he'd notice, so instead I take the deepest ones I can, and continue to try and think of a conversation starter.
"You want me to leave, don't you?" he asks me suddenly, and then I don't know how to answer his simple question. How am I supposed to explain that all I want is for my unrequited love to be requited, to hold him close, and for us to be happy, but at the same time I want to be a million and one miles away from him, because he could do so much better. He deserves so much better.
Eventually, I slowly nod my head, glaring at my sheets because I'm ashamed that I'm hurting his feelings in the process of trying to protect him. I can't win either way.
"Okay. Try to get some sleep." he says, and walks out of the room, without looking back. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, and I cry.
I cry because I'm pathetic, and there's nothing else to do. Nothing else I can do. Except, maybe one thing...if I can get up and travel to the kitchen, then the bathroom. Is it stupid to inflict even more damage on myself, when all Charlie seems to want is my physical recovery? Probably, yes, but would it make me feel better?
I've already made my decision, my stupid, selfish decision, and a few minutes later, I'm heading downstairs. I can hear Charlie snoring from the floor above me. I smile and rub my eyes, thinking that if that was painful, listening to the signs that he's sleeping, then just wait until I get my hands on something sharp, and metal. I may be acting and treated like a child, but I'm old enough to know where the knives are kept.