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This was bad. Everything about this was bad. Tord was laid on his back, trying his hardest to sleep. He just couldn't get his mind to stop thinking.
He was tired of yearning. He was tired of wanting desperately to be held, and told everything was alright. That he was doing a good job. He'd like to think he is, but he needs a second opinion. He can't trust his own judgment anymore.
He sits up. No point in avoiding it, he's awake now for good. He gets out of bed, beginning to pace.
Did he do the right thing leaving his friends? He misses them. He misses Edd's consistent stream of puns; he misses Matt's frequent self-praise- he even missed Tom and his fights. He missed feeling loved, and wanted, and cared for.
It's stupid. He's going to be important. He's going to be he is a leader. He can't be missing people. They wouldn't have understood anyway. They wouldn't have supported him- he's sure of that.
And yet here he is, thinking about them. He's pitiful. This is just sad.
He'd give anything to be back with them. To be able to rant to Edd; to have Matt paint his nails; to tease Tom. It's all a lot. He can't stop thinking. And of course, it's them of all people doing this to him.
Despite everything, he still misses them.
Tord knows it's late. It's 2 am. He's always had trouble sleeping, but it's different tonight. Usually, he can stare at the ceiling until eventually, his brain shuts off. His brain just won't do that tonight.
So he slumps against the wall, burying his face in his hands. This is all thinking has taken a toll on him. Is it too much to ask to sleep? He feels exhausted, that's for sure. It's almost like he physically can't think of anything besides his friends.
Sure, he has other friends. But it's not the same. Nothing's the same. He's always wanted a change of pace. He just didn't expect it to be like this. He wishes he'd stayed with them. But he didn't. No use going back now.
Tears are welling in his eyes. He never thought just a year into this he'd miss them so much. But look at him, crying in his bedroom because he misses his friends. Before he knows it he's sobbing into his hands.
He just left them. He left them without even explaining himself. What type of friend does that? He should just head back. But he can't- he knows he can't. He can't just abandon his work. He can't abandon everything he's worked towards.
The feeling will pass, he knows that. He needs to sleep it off. Tord takes a deep breath. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve and stands to his feet. Right. He needs to sleep, he has some stuff to do in the morning. He pulls the covers back and crawls in.
He wonders how the gang is doing. He hopes they don't miss him this much. He hopes they're ok.