Jen's Journal

The last few days have been tense between me and Damien. He’s been working nonstop on his lyrics. When he does have free time, he’s rarely ever in a good mood. I love him, I really do, but sometimes it feels as though he doesn’t want me to. It’s as if everything I do upsets him. If I hang out with my friends it upsets him. If I spend all day with him he acts like I’m not letting him breathe. I don’t know what to do really, so I just try to stay out of his way as much as possible until he’s in a good mood. It does happen sometimes, and when it does he’s very apologetic about what an asshole he’s been the past few days. And then he goes right back to being an asshole.

The situation isn’t very different from the last time we dated, only this time I live here, so there’s really no place I can go. I wonder sometimes if he’ll ever change, if he’ll go back to the way he was when we first moved in. But then I think how silly that is to even consider. People like him don’t ever really change. They’re introverts to the core and sometimes they enjoy the company of others, but most of the time they need to be alone. They need people around them who understand that. They need people who, like them, don’t get too emotionally attached. They need people who are mature, honest, and distant. 

He knows I’m not that kind of person, I know I’m not that kind of person. So why the hell am I still here? I’ve been asking myself this question for a few days now, and I still don’t have an answer. 

It’s a week before finals begin, I’m studying while I eat and Damien is, for once, also eating at the table. No one has said anything for a while. I want to break the silence but I don’t want to say something dumb, so for now I just say nothing. Still, the silence is awful. I want to laugh really, should it be this hard to have a conversation with the man I claim to love? 

After overthinking for what feels like hours, I decide to break the silence with small talk. “Are you looking forward to Christmas break?” 

“You get a Christmas break. I have to work.” He says, not even looking up from his breakfast.

God, how could I be so stupid! Of course he doesn’t have a break! He hasn’t gone to school in a very long time. “Oh, right. Well, I’m thinking of going home for the break. Or would you want me to stay here instead?”

He shrugs his shoulders and says, “Do whatever you want.” He doesn’t even finish his breakfast when he gets up and locks himself in his office again.

I force the food down even though I feel the knot in my throat. I take deep breaths and remind myself that he didn’t hurt me. He’s never laid a hand on me. He’s never verbally abused me. The only thing he does is put distance between us. I shouldn’t be upset about that, I know the kind of person he is so this shouldn’t come as a shock to me. 

I hold a hand up to my mouth when I notice that a tear has landed on my book. Dammit, not again. He can’t see me like this. He can’t know how much he affects me. He has enough on his plate already. 

I leave my stuff on the table and go up to the room. I’ve been here months now, but I still can’t bring myself to call anything mine. It doesn’t feel like anything is mine, no matter how many times he assures me it is. 

As I cry in his bed, I hug the pillow to me just to have something to hold on to. I hear his steps getting close and I hide my face in the pillow, hoping he’ll just think I’m sleeping. When I feel the bed dip, I shut my eyes tight and prey he doesn’t hear how fast my heart is beating. He places his hand on my shoulder and shakes me gently. When I don’t respond I hear a sigh escape his mouth. It’s not a good thing. When he sighs like that its as if I’m a five year old he’s taking care of and I just won’t listen. He sighs like that when I ask to many questions that he doesn’t want to answer, or when he wants me to go away.

“I know you’re awake, what’s up?” He says, I can’t help but notice how irritated he sounds. 

I lift my head from the pillow and he immediately knows I’ve been crying. He looks at me the way he does when he’s hurt me, and he doesn’t even know how he did it. He looks down, pierces his lips together, and then puts his head between his hands. 

“Dammit, what is it this time?” He asks.

“It’s nothing, I’m just being silly. These finals are kind of stressing me out.” I take the blame away from him, which I do often because I can’t stand the way he thinks he’s done something. I don’t think he believes me, but for some reason he lets it go.

He lays down beside me and scoops me up in his arms. “You need a break. Lets sleep in today and worry about everything later, okay?” He suggests. 

“That sounds great.” I say simply.

This is one of the moments where I truly love him. When he’s holding me, as if he’s too scared to let me go. It’s one of the reasons I can’t bring myself to leave him. No matter how independent he is, I get the feeling that he needs me in different ways than I need him. He needs someone there to remind him not to be too serious. Someone to hold when he’s feeling alone, and someone to hold him as well. He needs someone to constantly remind him of how wonderful he is and how much he is loved. He might not realize it yet, but he needs me.