What we had

What we had

And yet, the love you wanted, I had it to give you; 

the love I wanted–your eyes told it to me your tired and distrustful eyes–you had it to give me

(The love you wanted/L’amore che volevi, Costantino Kavafis) 

Dan lights another cigarette up.
The eight one in less than one half an hour, after he sent Serena away, as rudely as she deserved.

And he hasn’t even smoked before in his whole existence.
But he’s determined to hurt his lungs as much as he can.
Maybe to get distracted from how his heart is already aching.
Every mail from Blair that he keeps deleting - by the time Serena left, new ones have arrived- to him feels like a stab into the stomach.
As he’s busy refusing her umpteenth  attempt to get in touch with him, Dan is almost tempted to smash his laptop against the wall, then he reminds himself that he contains stuff he needs to work.

He rushes outside the loft, before he ends up breaking something for real, in order to give vent to his rage and frustration.

- “Do you even want to be in this relationship?” It feels like I just asked you that only yesterday. Oh wait, actually I did ask you that yesterday. And you replied ‘Of course’, with so much statement in your eyes. I used to believe those beautiful, deep eyes of yours, they told me the most beautiful things, even the ones your mouth was too afraid to utter. -

Dan draws out another cigarette and light it in such a hurry that he ends up scorching his thumb.

“Shit!” He curses, but it doesn’t hurt, really.

Nothing can hurt a heart that has already been broken, any further.

- What we had was so special and you threw it away, even if fucking Serena hadn’t set that fucking trap. I don’t even feel guilty over that, Blair, because you betrayed me further before I did. And for what? To give Chuck Basstard the ultimate chance to ruin you. What we had was so pure. What we had was so unparalleled. We were each other’s world. We used to be each other’s home. You can find this kind of affinity once in a lifetime… and now everything is gone.What we had was the most imperfectly perfect thing in the world, but we didn’t believe enough in it; well, you didn’t!-

He inhales the smoke so deep that he has to cough.

He finds the taste of smoke disgusting, and matched to the empty stomach he had since the day before, the consequence of that disruptive combo can be only one: Dan throws up, at a corner of Washington Street, in DUMBO, unseen, because no one is passing by.

He wipes his mouth and, ironically, even that reminds him of Blair, of her past eating disorder.

- How many times did I check if you were okay? How many times did I make sure you got a proper meal? There won’t be any of it anymore, because losing our love we also lost our friendship… and I don’t even know which of these things is worst!-

Now Dan is crying, as some tears trace his cheeks.

If only some could fall on the umpteenth  still lit cigarette he is holding in his fingers and put it out; that would be a clear sign that Dan should stop poisoning himself that way.

But that doesn’t happen and he goes on with his self-harming attitude, until, almost scared, he realised he emptied a whole packet in less than one hour and all he got is a throbbing headache, an annoying nausea and an uncomfortable giddiness.

- The perfect healthy state for someone who has to face a long journey… with Satan herself, nonetheless!- He rolls his eyes, something that doesn’t help his giddiness.

“What the hell am I doing?” He snaps, as he laboriously gets back to the loft and coughs uncontrollably.

- This must be my subconscious trying to punish me, for not fighting enough for what we had. It’s my fault, I should have snapped to attention at the first signal that something was teetering between us, when Chuck started to be a way too demanding presence. - He broods, as he opens the door, not before resting against it, needing some balance. - I should have paid more attention to what you did, the phone calls you had; maybe I should have kept an eye on you and… And then what? Stalk you? Lock you in a cage so you would have never left me? Oh, c’mon, I’m nothing like this!-
 

Dan drinks a bottle of water, then  reaches the bathroom, washes his face more than once, trying to recover a bit, and brushes his teeth to send away that sickening smell of smoke.

He goes back to the living room, checking all his stuff once more.

He opens his wallet, to check if he took enough euros, along with his credit card, and that’s when a pic slips from it.
He collects it from the floor and lingers over it.

It’s not a single pic, it’s a collection of mini pics, the ones typical of a photo booth.

Dan still recalls when they took them, it was during their first week after getting officially together and Blair had asked him to do something unusual.
So they had fun playing dumb.
There’s a pic where Blair held her nose, pretending to be disgusted, almost as if Dan had farted, and there was Dan sticking his tongue out and winking, with wicked pride; there’s one where Blair pulled his ear and Dan screamed in pain and she sneered sadistically. But there are also a couple of more serious and romantic poses: one, where they wrapped their arm around each other and happily smiled at the camera and a last one, Dan’s fave, where Blair held him tight and caressed his face, sort of possessively.

- That’s it, Blair, I was yours. Maybe I still am; because, if ever I’ll be with another girl, anyone, she will only find an empty shell, with the heart missing. Because you took my heart and shattered it into a thousand pieces. - He sighs.

He’s almost tempted to rip that collection of pictures, but he just can’t.
He can’t even bring it with himself; happy memories would only make him suffer more.
Dan confines himself only to placing it inside the drawer of his night-table.

He takes his rucksack and his trolley and leaves his house, craving the moment his fingers will place on a typewriter, because he has a lot of work to do.
He has a city to destroy.

- People think that Gossip Girl is dangerous and merciless: Well, they haven’t seen yet what Dan Humphrey is capable of. Brace yourself, Blair, since you proved to prefer the bad boys, you’re going to meet the baddest!-

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THE END