The rose and the sunflower.
The girl with the golden eyes and the boy with a golden heart.
The girl that believed love was just a fairytale and the boy that believed fairytales are just stories waiting to come true.
'I used to think love was a point...
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The world is a fucked up place. I always knew that. I've never been naïve enough to think otherwise, yet sometimes I fail to believe the things that this piece of shit world can throw at you.
Falling asleep was easy for me last night, especially in Harry's arms. Something about being in his arms brings me a sense of being at ease.
It's the staying asleep that was the hard part.
I woke up at around three in the morning and I probably then spent a few hours lying in my bed, Harry's arms still wrapped around me, trying to get back to sleep. I don't think I actually fell asleep for more than half an hour.
What woke me up was this feeling in my gut.
It was a very bad feeling. I felt like something was wrong and that is why I wasn't able to fall back to sleep.
My anxiety had taken over and I couldn't stop thinking about any and everything that could have happened. The fact that my mind couldn't stick to one thing for more than a second is what was, and is still, driving me mad.
Instead of laying there and overthinking every possible thing I could've thought of any longer, I made my way out of Harry's grasp, replacing my body with a pillow and then moved quietly into the kitchen where I'm currently sitting on a stool at the counter waiting for the water to boil in the kettle.
It's almost five thirty in the morning and the only thing I could think to do was make a cup of chamomile tea to help soothe my anxiety. I watch as the kettle starts steaming after two minutes, so I get up and pour the boiling contents into the mug I set next to it. I bob the teabag up and down in the water for a little before wrapping it around the spoon and squeezing it out.
Carefully holding the mug, after adding some honey to the tea, I walk to my door and quietly unlock it as best I can only using my one free hand. Once it's opened, I step back and grab one of the cardigans hanging on a hook near the door.
I walk barefoot to the bench under the random olive tree in my yard and set the cup of tea down before putting the crème coloured cardigan over my arms and wrapping it around my body, shielding myself from the cold, early morning air. I take my seat on the bench and begin to think whilst my tea cools down enough for me to be able to drink it without completely flaming off my taste buds.
I look up at the sky and watch it go slowly from dark to light as the sun rises. I try to do this at least once a week, usually at the start of a new week, because watching the sky change colours seems to bring me so much peace, starting off my weeks with a sense of calmness, which definitely helps with my anxiety.
I only sit in silence and complete peace for a couple minutes until my thoughts come rushing back.
Why the fuck do I feel like something happened? Something very bad.
