Breathing Has Got Too Hard

As I waited for a message back from Danny, I literally sat and twiddled my thumbs in anticipation. I had no idea why this had me so excited. It was just, nobody had taken a genuine interest in me like this before. Not as a friend. Nothing. They had always had some ulterior motive, or were just generally fake people. But there was something about Danny that was genuine, and something about him that made me laugh. Which was pretty special considering.

I kept on clicking refresh, waiting for my inbox to light up red like it did. After twenty minutes, I sighed and gave up refreshing. He probably has more of a social life than me. And just more of a life in general. He’s not going to be sat there refreshing the page like a sad bastard is he?

And just as I was about to emerge from my computer chair for my guitar, a small window popped up in the corner of my screen. I frantically pulled my computer chair as close to my desk as I could while I was still sat there, leaning into the screen.

It was a chat window, small, blue, simple, and contained a message from Danny. Just a simple “Hey” in the middle of it. But it was enough to make me smile again. It was as if I was smile for the first time, as I felt the muscles in my cheeks strain under my sudden happiness.

I typed back, as quickly as possible “How’s it going?”, hitting enter with a triumphant flick of my wrist.

I spied at the bottom of the chat window, Danny is typing…, and my heart leapt a little. He’s actually taking time out to talk to me? He doesn’t even know me. He’s probably just bored…but it doesn’t stop me feeling any more special. A message popped up, suddenly, a small chime ringing out through my silent, dark bedroom.

I’m not too bad, bro. You?

I smiled, and typed. Meh, you know, as good as I’ll ever be I guess. hitting send.

Danny is typing…

Good to hear it. By the way, I asked if you drank ‘cos I wondered if you wanted to hang out sometime. In case you didn’t notice, I enjoy a good drink :P

I read the message, over and over. Someone actually wanted to hang out with me? I began to panic. What if I’m not interesting enough and he gets put off? What if I keep stuttering and sound like a total douche when I’m talking to him? Christ. I could be so socially awkward sometimes.

I decided I should probably stop worrying, he’s probably one of those people who does most of the talking which is probably good for me while I get used to being around him.

I began to type, slowly.

Haha, yeah I noticed. I enjoy a good drink too. I’d love to hang out bro, where are you from?

I hit send reluctantly, wondering if what I’d said had sounded desperate or stupid.

My god I needed to calm down. I was acting like I was talking to Jonny Craig again or something.

Danny is typing…

I’m originally from York, but I live in Leeds now since the parents kicked me out. You?

I was pretty shocked by how close he lived. Leeds was what, half an hour’s train ride away? I began to type again.

I’m from York and still living here. It’s a fucking dump, I wish I could get out of here.

I hit send, loosening up. I was slowly gaining confidence talking to him, I wouldn’t, and couldn’t usually talk like this to anybody. Hell, I wouldn’t usually talk at all.

Danny is typing…

I hear you, man. I don’t mean to sound like a total creep by the way, asking you out for a drink. It’s just dawned on me that I sound a bit paedophilic. If not a bit gay. I‘m neither. Promise

I laughed out loud, which again felt like the best release, and my cheeks ached again from the unfamiliar strain.

Hahaha, don’t worry man, I believe you. I think :P So what other bands you like? Anything a bit softer than Suicide Silence?

I hit send. I felt like I’d known him for years already. Even though I was only just getting to know him.

Danny is typing…

Do you really want me to list them all? Erm…let’s see. Chiodos? Enter Shikari…All that remains…Emarosa…Parkway drive…Bit of dubstep….bit of dance…and wait for it. I fucking LOVE 80s hair metal. Play me some Motley crue and some Deaf Leopard any fucking day man. What about you?

I grinned. This guy had fucking taste. Even if 80s hair metal was one of the worst genres in existence, it was party music. It reminded me of hanging out with my old friends in the park, drinking vodka…

It was literally one of those moments where you just click with someone. And you know you’re going to be friends for a long, long time.

You my friend are full of win. 80s hair metal is party music! Other than that though, awesome taste I gotta say. My all time favourite band are Skid Row. But I love Emarosa and Dance Gavin Dance. A day to remember. The Devil wears Prada. You get the gist, man. You play an instrument?

The more we talked, the more I wanted to get to know him. We were seriously clicking. I hadn’t felt this relaxed talking to anybody in so long. That includes my Mum, even.

Danny is typing…

Skid Row are fucking great, man. I play a bit of guitar and I just started learning a bit of Synth. I take it you play guitar, judging by your profile :P your Gibson Les Paul is the shit. Remind me to come to your house and steal it.

I glanced over at my guitar, a crimson red Gibson Les Paul, standing against the wall by my wardrobe. It gleamed in the strip of light that crept through the crack in my curtains. I turned away and began to type again.

No way. Nobody except me touches my guitar. It’s the only reason I’m still here and haven’t gone COMPLETELY insane.

I thought about what I’d just said, and I couldn’t have said anything truer. Whenever I felt the urge to cut myself, I’d pick up my guitar. It was a fairly recent distraction, for the past year and a half I’d have just picked up a razorblade for the release rather than my guitar, as much as I loved playing it. But cutting was an addiction, almost. I looked down, turning my wrist around to see the shining white slashes that lay carelessly across it. I ran my finger across them, my skin smooth, yet broken by lumpy scar tissue. A pang hit my chest, a longing to feel the warm blood trickle from my arm…

I was shocked out of my daydream by the chime coming from my laptop, a message from Danny. I sighed, and read.

Thank fuck for that guitar then eh? So when did you wanna meet up? It sounds like you need a fucking good night out my friend.

I smiled to myself, a warm feeling brewing in my stomach. And began to type.

How does tomorrow sound?