Chapter 18.

To Darby Anna Eden,

I know you hate when I use all of your names but desperate times call for desperate measures. I know you'll think that was cliché, I feel like it's the only way to reach you for some reason. I also don't really know how to go about saying this. I miss you?

Lost With You by Patrick Watson

"I miss you." His gravelly voice was amplified over the phone, I laid flat on my back on my bed, lazily holding the phone up to my ear.

"Don't say that." I blushed, shaking my head. "Why not?"

"Because you don't." I pulled myself up to sit, my laughing making it difficult. This was only for a second before I decided to get dressed for the day. I set the phone down on a stool in my room and set it to speaker. I pulled a simple pink t-shirt over my head as he spoke again, "You're mistaken because I am here recording, or supposed to be, and you are at home just now waking up. We're not in the same place, therefore..."

"Stop missing me, H, I've never been a missable person." I reminded him, eyebrows raising with partial sarcasm. I listened closely to his distant laughs over the phone. Even his laugh was pretty, but I didn't mean it as a joke.

"Tell me about your day." I pulled on a pair of paled orange suit pants and tucked the light pink tee into it. The outfit reminded me of some cartoon character, but my mind failed to put together what exactly that was.

"Nothing much has happened, We only reserved the studio for two hours today so I'll be out soon. When you're up and ready I was thinking we could go swim." His voice was casual, a kind of laid back that you could only be with a close friend. Or maybe that was just how he normally talked to people, he did have some sort of way of making everyone feel like his best friend. Either way it made me smile.

"Absolutely... I have work until 2 today and I'm currently," I checked the time, "almost late." It was almost 10am, and I only was scheduled to work part-time today. Anna was flexible as well. "Anna is flexible, we can plan on 2, is that alright?"

"Can't wait." I heard his smile through the phone.

"I don't have to hang up yet either... still have to walk there." I said, becoming shy. "Thank goodness because I wanted to tell you about this secret show idea I have..." And off he went, instantly bringing me comfort. I hated that he did, I should be able to do it for myself. I do, if you think about it. Writing and such. I'm fine, then. Yeah.

I didn't want him to feel that responsibility for me though? It's not his problem, it's mine. He shouldn't have to care for me... in that way. He still doesn't know what he's getting himself into.

And the day was coming. It was July now, it had been for a couple of weeks, but this day was just now coming to attack me. I put up the strongest walls I could. It had been a long time, people say that heals them. It doesn't, it just gives you room to forget. My Dad, and it was so long ago that my mind has nothing to hold onto, he... gave up.

"That sounds so cool, Harry. Definitely do it. But maybe write the songs first." I was a little zoned out but I tried not to make it obvious. "I'm almost done, I think."

"You think... so you're not." "Darby, are you okay?"

I don't think I realized that my tone had completely changed, I felt horrible. "I'm just a little out of it today, I'm sorry." I almost let out a cry, a little humph followed by a sniff.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Um, in person." I was walking fast and breathing heavy, almost to the café. "I... I think I'm going to call my mum real quick."

"Okay, I'm sorry, Darby."

"No please don't be. Bye, H." I pushed a smile though he would have never known it. He stuttered a bit before I hung up, which made me more anxious, like he might have been trying to say something more. I texted him quickly just to ask, but he didn't answer. It's fine, he's not the type to text. I needed to slow down my thoughts.

"Hey mum..." I sniffled, walking into Anna's. She saw me and my glistening eyes, nodded, and I went straight to the back room.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" I found myself sliding down to the floor in the same spot I had sat with Harry a while ago.

"Not really, no." I wiped my face with the palm of my hand, immediately stopping my tears as I began to think they were completely unreasonable. "No, I am. I am."

"You don't have to tell me that to make me feel better." She said, I sat up straighter. "I really am alright, I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm actually wonderful, I don't know why I all of the sudden feel like this."

"Darby, you've dealt with this before and you will again. You're an extremely strong person." I put my hand up to my forehead. "Aren't I supposed to be the one telling you this?"

"We're supporting each other here, Darby."

"I have to get to work, Mum." I stuttered, pulling myself to my feet. "Be safe, and be kind to yourself. None of this is your fault or a consequence for something you did wrong, Darby."

"Okay. And um, just to let you know... everything is alright here, probably as close to perfect as possible but I just... got in my head again." "I understand."

"Are you alright, Darbs." Anna gave me the sweetest hug as I went to grab my apron. "I am, Anna, thank you. Just thinking about Dad."

"I'm so sorry, sweet girl. I know it is hard but I know you're strong enough to endure." My tears threatened to show again, but I kept them in as a customer, a teenage girl, walked up to the counter.

"You're Darby?" "I am darby, yes." I smiled softly, she seemed kind and much younger than me. Maybe 16, but an impeccable sense of style. I knew immediately. She was wearing a pearl necklace and a cream shirt with outlines of strawberries on it, tucked into some lighter blue suit-material shorts. She had a couple of complimentary gold rings, that's all I could see of the outfit but it was phenomenal. "You're very beautiful." She said to me.

I couldn't think of anything to say to that, I stuttered out a messy "Thank you." I smiled after a second, "It means a lot actually, and I noticed your outfit the second you walked up, I love it." She covered her mouth with her hand and gave the sweetest smile. "Um, would you like anything?"

She looked at the menu, rolling onto her tip toes with her hands behind her back. "Maybe the lemon?" She asked. "That's my favorite." I assured her. After she paid and I gave her the tart, she paused before leaving.

"I'm so glad that you're making him happy." She said kindly. "Oh? Oh! Yes, yea." I nodded my head, unsure if I should denounce the rumors or let them be, not that I'd know what to say to do either of those things. "I hope you have a wonderful day." And for no reason that girl has stayed vibrantly alive in my mind for all of this time.

...

The Great Escape by Patrick Watson

"I believe there is this theory that men and women emerge finer and stronger after suffering, and that to advance in this or any world we must endure ordeal by fire. This we have done in full measure, ironic though it seems. We have both known fear, and loneliness, and very great distress. I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial. We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end."

He laid next to me as I read, in the grass outside nearing the end of the day. The grass wasn't itchy, oddly enough, it reflected everything I felt. Softly sweet, verses with close to a melody playing on my tongue as I read.

My arms ached from holding the book above my face. His floppy curls brushed up against my neck, with his head laying perfectly placed on my shoulder. "I thought this was supposed to be a scary book, love."

"It's terrifying," I giggled, closing it as I let my arms fall. "And Rebecca is..." "Not the main character." I answered. My voice rode on the edge of sweetly breaking like a cup filled nearly over the brim with... with lemonade. Anything with enough sweetener to kill you, though lemonade fits the analogy too well with its sour takebacks. In the back of my mind was my "fear, loneliness, and very great distress."

It was too pretty, a perfectly breezy day, a lowering sun leading to inevitable awe. I took many breaths, capturing how I felt... and saving it for another day when I might not feel just this way. It felt like waiting for a train to hit you, after someone else has tied you down and awaits your impending doom. Though I felt I couldn't quite place who that was, nor did I want to. But I tried not to think that way for now. Procrastination had always been a key skill of mine, thank goodness it was for once beneficial.

I listened to his soft music, which was hardly audible, it was turned down so low. He of course loved old music, he grew up on it. But I noticed he had a soft spot for anything acoustic, dreamy piano, soft strummed or plucked guitar pieces. It was so similar to a couple songs I had shown him before, like he had picked up the interest after I had introduced it to him. They're calming songs, I've always used them to calm myself down from emotional outbursts and such. They do have a tendency to lean to either side, making me feel much better or much much worse. Lonely or hopeful, quite opposite ends of the spectrum.

"This song sounds nostalgically familiar." I hummed, unsure if Harry was even awake at this point. "I thought it was something you'd like." He answered. I let my head turn to the side, lips finding the top of his head.

"Have I ever told you about Louis and I, Darby." "What?" I asked.

"We tried to make it work. During the band."

"That was real? I had heard minor things but it completely passed over my head."

"Very much so." He laughed, "I was head over heels for him, ever since the start. It ended up just not working out, especially with management. They wouldn't let us come out to the public. Still haven't, and we're not even together anymore."

"I'm so sorry H... You two didn't deserve that."

"We don't have to dwell on it, I just wanted to let you know. I wrote an album to move on and... I mean it helped. You know what you said about first loves?"

I nodded with a small hum. "He was mine." He spoke sensitively, but I could hear in his voice the ring of telling a story of the past. It didn't bother him anymore. And I marvelled at his strength to go through pain after pain for love to begin and end in secrecy.

"You're so strong, Harry... I envy that in you, I think." He sat up hastily, pulling me to a sitting position as well. His eyes remained soft, gentle with a little hint of reminiscent sadness. Maybe it wasn't sadness at all, I saw him allow a slightest side smile. It was sweet in remembrance, hardly any tinges of bitterness left over in him but it was there.

"We all fight our own battles, like you said. Don't discredit your own."

"If you want to talk to me about it, you can." I said, surely. He moved closer to me, curling up in my arms this time. Looking up at me from my lap, reaching up at the pieces of my hair that fell out and down. Giving thoughts time to process.

I picked up his floppy hand, pointing out some of the immature little tattoos scattered amongst it. I knew that they had had meaning, of course. I put it mildly together and my heart ached for him. His slight nod signified that my thoughts were correct. They were all for him.

He changed the subject casually. "You said you wanted to say something to me this morning, in person..." As he spoke, I pushed it away as soon as it came, the gut feeling that tore up every other feeling that occupied my headspace. I did not need to ruin this right now. I did not need to ruin this right now. Not now.

I breathed steadily, cupping my hands on his cheeks, receiving a sweet smile in return. He sat up again, "If you don't feel comfortable then it's alright."

I hated it, but I slowly started to shake my head. "... I'm not sure I can say it, Harry."

"Let me help you, Darby. Don't let me pressure you into telling me if you think you shouldn't, but if you think you should I want to... help." He sat directly across from me, and I no longer could explain how I felt. I felt useless without words. Very stupid. I tried to see a therapist once, a long while ago. But I felt like they gave me the same answers I could have found on Wikipedia. Take Deep Breaths, Nothing Is Wrong With You, Count To 10, Just Talk To People. I never found it useful, and I never felt I knew how to explain my feelings to the lady without sounding like I felt pity for myself. Or that I was weak. Or that I had it worse than other people. Because I know that there are people out there struggling more than I am. And I felt like she wasn't understanding me fully when I tried to assure her that my problems were lesser than others and therefore weren't as valid a reason for needing help.

I physically feel sick when I can't explain how I feel. When I can't get my point across to people. I should be able to do that because real writers can translate emotions. I was over here stubbornly clueless. Even Harry's magnificent way of making me feel okay again took a pause in that moment. I felt vulnerable in a disgusting way, helpless and dumb. I was never dumb, I was smart enough to think every possible outcome through. Another trait at the root of my every downfall.

"I- Well I once told you about how my mum was-- sixteen, no uh seventeen. When she had, me." I do think I was doing a good enough job at staying calm, I had resorted completely to feeling numb over crying.

"Yes, on the boat." He took my hands in his.

In. Out. In. Out.

"Um, yes. Her mum-- uh, well she kicked... my mum out." I paused to let my thoughts catch up to my mouth.

"Can you please tell me more about Louis and you to distract me." I pleaded.

"Distraction is no remedy, Darby." He smiled, knowing just how badly I needed him then.

"Can you please let it be for a bit." I laughed through invisible tiny glossy tears. This time me in his arms. I think I was surely meant to be right there as well, I hadn't and haven't felt as safe as I did then from my own self. My past that didn't even feel like a part of me because it was so distant. But here it was continuing to have an effect on me, keeping me from letting my guard down. I was a nice thing to have, a guard. Until I had someone I wanted more than any else to open it up to.

The air around us was quiet enough, I felt like talking would ruin it. So I spoke soft enough to compliment it instead. "Harry..."

He turned to me, fiddling with a piece of grass in his fingers. "My dad was a good person."

He sat and really listened to me. Suddenly giving him all of me didn't feel as horrible as I expected it to. "Well he was only with us for a couple years." My voice broke to nothing by accident. I had no power in me but to be excruciatingly quiet.

"Are you ready?" He asked. I was not until I lifted my head from the ground to his eyes that I was. I nodded my head slightly, letting my lips into a smile. A couple moments passed, my eyes not leaving its lock in his.

"Anyways, my dad... he passed when I was two. It's been a really long time, I should be over it. I am sometimes, other times he sorta hits all at once." It felt odd talking about it to someone. And when I did I could hardly do it without my throat closing up. "My mum found him, I almost did. She scared me, her reaction, I was really too young to get it and I hardly knew what was happening in the moment. After that I grew up." I was started shaking for a second, but it just... stopped. Harry took my pinky with his own to comfort me, and... I felt comfortable again.

"I believed my whole childhood that it was my fault. My mum constantly told me that it wasn't but I never believed her. It was too obviously my fault. I don't know, I was, I guess, a burden. And they, my parents were so young."

Harry's expression shifted to remorse. "Thank you for making this slightly easier. You might not think you're doing anything but you are." I found a shy smile. "...Darby, I'm so sorry."

"The worst part is that I switch between wanting to forget, not wanting to forget, and being anxious about both of those. Add being lonely in there, and it's my entire personality." I chuckled at myself. I listened to the silence for the long moments. But I was alright. Telling him only made me feel closer to him, I wasn't really expecting that. "You are much more than your weaknesses, Darby."

"Do you believe that you can really love more than one person in this life? I think about that a lot. Though I don't think I've ever— loved."

He thought about it, I pictured him thinking about Louis. I'd never known much about him. But I now knew so much more, they had gotten tattoos together. Their songs were beautifully written conversations back and forth between them. And I realized I wasn't thinking out of jealousy, it was on a much bigger and greater scale than that. I guess I cared enough about Harry to care about his pain. And that led to the selfish desire of knowing his thoughtd of me in return.

"I do. Yes." He looked directly at me, not just at me but at me. My unsure but unsurprisingly romantic brain told me that was a little bit more than a simple answer to a question.

There were stars that night. A shooting star even. We were probably out there looking at them for hours. When I saw the shooting star, I cried. Because that is simply just who I am.