Another month passes by, and my mental health takes a toll.

It's because even though nothing changes in my life and relationships, somehow, everything changes in my perception of things.

I've never in my life felt the way I feel for George, and it's scaring me. Every single thing in my life seems dependent on him. For example, when I go home from work, my first thought is if George's going to be awake or not. When I buy food, I try to get something that he likes, ignoring my own preferences. It's not healthy, and it's utterly frustrating.

It's frustrating because our relationship is going nowhere. It's stuck in the same spot it was a month ago, yet my feelings now can't even compare to what I felt a month ago.

None of us address it, and none of us has enough time to even think about addressing it. When he's free, I'm at work. When I'm home, he's asleep or busy with something. He used to stay awake when I was at work, but now even his schedule has changed.

On a positive note, Clay is doing better. He's still the same sulky asshole to me, but the way he's talking to his stream and his friends shows that he's improved so much throughout these days. He's much more energetic, sometimes laughs (and it's the funniest thing ever), and doesn't get as triggered as before when Nick and George mention his ex. I'm happy for him, but I'm sad for myself because it feels like I'm slowly becoming him, and he's becoming me.

Nick's pretty much the same. He bought a lemon tree and is currently obsessed with it. I'm not even sure if it's a lemon tree, it's just a bunch of twigs with leaves on it, but he says we'll soon have homemade lemonade so I suppose it's a lemon tree.

Along with all of that, another thought that's been haunting me is the speed with which their careers are growing. I know that someday, they're gonna be in a place where they can afford the house they want. I think they can afford it even right now, they're just too busy to spend time doing that. But eventually, they're gonna leave and forget about me. That thought terrifies me, but I know that I'm powerless when it comes to that.

However, one day I have this conversation with Clay. I know, a rare thing to say, but he actually speaks to me sometimes. Well, the majority of the time we talk is because he wants to tell me how annoying and dumb I am, but I convinced myself that hate is his love language, so we're good.

"Can you turn it down a bit? You're gonna be fucking deaf by forty," I'm lying on his bed, it's 7 a.m. and the music he's blasting is so loud that I hear it through his headset.

And of course, I'm dumb for thinking that he'd hear me. No worries, the pillow is here for a reason. I throw it at him.

I'm convinced that he might have eyes on his back because of the way he catches the pillow every time before it hits him. Or it's because I threw it at him too many times and it's muscle memory at this point.

"If you throw that goddamn pillow at me one more time, I'm gonna shove it down your fucking throat."

Yeah, this is our relationship now. It keeps getting better and better over time, I know.

"Sad that it's the only thing you can think of that reaches my throat," and this is me now. Told you, I'm going insane.

It catches him off guard. He laughs softly and rolls his eyes, "Shut up."

I see him close the game and spin on his chair to face the bed I'm in. Guess he enjoys looking at my grumpy face.

"You're kinda off lately," he's barely spinning side to side on his chair.

"Try working a night in that bar," I sound grouchy. Yeah, let's blame it on the bar.

"You have three sugar daddies living in your house, do you really need a job?" Sometimes he's so ignorant that I miss the days he wouldn't talk to me.

"My sugar daddies aren't forever going to live in my house," the thought alone hurts me, "and my house is officially becoming your house in like two months."

He senses the sorrow in my voice and I can tell it from the way his smirk changes into a saddened smile.

"Well, I don't think you're going anywhere after those two months," he shakes his head, "it's only fair if we return the favor you did for us, right?"

"Doesn't take away the fact that I still need a job," I shrug, "and doesn't make things any better."

I play with the edge of the pillowcase. It's like I'm getting sadder and sadder every second.

"Maybe you should.." Clay speaks with a low voice and I look up, "maybe you should talk to him."

It's the first time in a month the topic of me and George is brought up. The last time we talked about this was the first time we talked about this. And it was the time he found out that I like George.

I look at Clay and don't realize how my lips turn into a pout. I find it sweet that he knows the real reason behind my mood changes lately, but I feel like his offer is not that ideal.

"No." I refuse.

"Eh, you should've kicked us out," I can't believe he's still not over it, "and you should've listened to me."

I frown at his words, "It's still not too late."

I expect him to agree and add fuel to the fire, dare me to kick them out or something similar to that. But he doesn't, and it's confusing.

"It is too late," he states, "I warned you, you didn't listen. And now I can't help you."

"Warned me about what? And what help? Nothing bad has happened, what are you talking about?"

One thing that annoys me about him is the way he acts like he knows everything. You can't convince me that 3 months ago when he told me to kick them out, he knew that today I would have feelings for George and George would act like nothing's ever happened between us and not address anything.

And it's not like a tragedy has struck and torn my life apart just because things are indefinite between us. There's nothing to it, I'm just exhausted from waiting for something to happen and it's the first time in my life I'm experiencing anything close to having feelings for someone, so I think it's fair for me to feel this way.

"I think you need to talk to George as soon as possible," he gets up from the chair, "I'd do it for you, but I already know way more than you do."

I groan, "Then enlighten me, master," I don't think anyone can annoy me as much as he can, "since you know everything, share your wisdom."

Clay chuckles, resting his hand on the door handle, "I don't want to risk my friendship with George," he shakes his head, "go talk to him, stop torturing yourself."