This was rough to write, I'm not gonna lie
...
February
Amelia
It's around eight in the morning when I abruptly wake up. I sit up in bed, a thin layer of sweat coating my face. My breathing is also ragged, mimicking a slight panic attack.
It was just a dream, I think. Just another nightmare.
I was getting them before, primarily because of how shitty I felt about mine and Harry's situation. I was terrified he was going to leave me and then, well, he threatened to. My nightmares got significantly worse after that, but only for a couple of weeks.
Christian had told me that day that he spoke to Mitch and apparently Harry was drunk when he called me. It made me feel slightly better, but it still didn't negate the excruciating pain I felt coursing through my body. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack or a stroke. I've never been in that much pain before, which I know is dramatic but I had never really dealt with heartbreak before. I've never really lost anyone that close to me. The closest I would say would have been Robin but it didn't hurt me as much as it did Harry or Gemma, and for obvious reasons. Was I upset? Of course, but my heartbreak with Harry was a different kind of pain. I don't know if that's shitty to say but it's the truth.
Harry and I haven't necessarily made amends after our brief falling out. We haven't spoken because of the new break that we're on - one that Mitch and Christian devised since I suppose they're best friends now. But although we haven't spoke, I forgave him for what he said. It still hurts to think about but I know he was coming from a deep pit of despair so there wasn't much I could say at the time. Maybe in person we'll bring it up.
Harry still texts me every day to either say 'good morning', 'good night', or more commonly 'I love you'. He also calls, but I never answer. It's not that I don't want to, but I just need time. Harry assures me in his voicemails that he's going to wait for me and that he's not mad or upset anymore, but when I'm finally ready to make things right with him, I promise that I'm going to do everything I can to shower him with love and affection. I'm going to try to talk more and be open about everything. We used to be pretty decent with communication and I long to get back to that point in our relationship.
I'm also going to try and treat Harry more. I think I'll try to take him out to dinner or buy him small gifts. I can't really afford too much but he seems to like everything I get him. Maybe I'll even start writing him poems, I don't know. I don't typically dabble in poems because I find them difficult to write, but Harry's a bit of a mush and I think they're right up his alley. Once my head is out of the gutter, I'll try to formulate a couple.
I've definitely been feeling better though, which is a good thing. Maggie had recommended me to a psychiatrist, since she's only a therapist, and the two of them decided it might be worth it to try an antidepressant. I was a little apprehensive at first, but I decided to give it a whirl and so far it's been relatively okay.
It's not a life changing experience by any means. It's not a magic cure and it doesn't necessarily make me happy. It just helps me get by and helps unclog my mind. I haven't been on it that long to witness the maximum effect, but so far I think I like it. Or rather I don't mind it.
The only downside of the medication is it's been altering my sleep schedule. I tend to wake up more frequently throughout the night and my nightmares have come back. They're not all about Harry though, which in some ways is a relief, but they remind me of those uncomfortable crack dreams I used to get when I was super stressed out in college. They just put me on edge.
