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Amsterdam is beautiful in a lot of ways that Dan doesn’t know how to explain. It’s architecture looking all familiar but just a bit different with its close buildings and canals. The smell of weed is strong when passing a coffeeshop that Dan has been in once before with friends. He buys a mug for home, something to memorialise the trip and Phil wants to get a magnet with a bicycle or clog on it.
They spent the day being tourist, it’s one of the best parts, being able to feel like they’re on holiday. Phil takes pictures and window shops, going in to buy some snack, making Dan and Marianne try a stroopwafel that he’s heard so much about. It’s sweet to taste and something Dan would have again- though he knows that Phil is prone to eat whatever they try to share.
Dan feels off though. It’s tiny. It’s just a little feeling for now, that tugs on him just a bit more as they walk, as someone runs into them, as Phil posts another picture. It’s there, existing in his body, taking space in Dan’s heart like it pays rent when it’s an unwelcome guest.
Dan is keeping to himself, smiling at all the little joys that Phil finds because Phil is always good at that. They have their games that they play, the ones that are often made up on the spot because of boredom but it’s mainly because Phil likes rewards and Dan likes Phil’s triumphant smile. He doesn’t have the energy for games now.
It’s on the canal that he feels temporary relief, because he’s not out there on land where people can stop him, he doesn’t feel so trapped here regardless of the fact that there’s nowhere for him to go. He likes the water though. The boat doesn’t go too fast, they take their time, and Dan takes pictures of the view, the buildings that pass by them and the houses that are chained to the water.
Their boat tour guide explains the people who live on the water, estimates a price of how much it is but Dan isn’t really listening all that much, he’s staring out into the canal, wanting to reach out and touch it with his fingers to solidify that what they’re doing is real. Phil worries that he’ll fall in, grabbing him by the arm and Dan smiles a little but it fades.
Phil has been more affectionate today. He’s always affectionate, but they have different ways of showing it in public. He rests his hand on Dan’s knee, Dan isn’t looking at him placing his own hand on top of Phil’s, and like the light breeze earlier today Phil’s hand is gone, leaving without a trace that it was even there in the first place.
*
Dan tells Phil that the Netherlands was the first country to legalize same sex marriage in 2001, Phil asks if they should get married in a low voice, turning to look over his shoulder but there’s no one there. Dan smiles a little shaking his head.
There’s a cheese store, the scent is strong and he wants to make Phil go in there for the entertainment but the unwelcome visitor in his body is sucking everything out of him as the day wears on. He feels uncomfortable everywhere; his clothes don’t feel right, his hair is a little off, his vision a little blurry, and the fatigue in his body is strong.
He doesn’t know how to say, I don’t want to be in my body sometimes without freaking Phil out.
He doesn’t know how to say, I just want to hide in the body of water for a while because then I’d be weightless.
It’s just anxiety was a big part of his life, and it sometimes was so bad some days that all he could do was push through it despite the fact that he just didn’t want to. It caused him to be irritable, and he’s trying not to be. He declines alcohol at dinner, declines sharing a dessert with Phil, and when they’re back at the hotel he curls up in a ball in the shower and lets the warm water that’s ricocheting off his back be his comfort until it turns cold.
When he steps out he looks himself in the mirror, touching the side of his face, recognizing himself but not liking the person he’s seeing. The feeling that resides in his chest has gotten bigger and he can’t ignore it anymore. The problem with what he feels, is that it’s too much. The emotions always feel like they’re so much bigger than what he can harbor. He doesn’t understand how he can handle it, doesn’t understand how his body can hold so much emotion.
He gets dressed, a comfortable long sleeve, his black skinny jeans that’s kept for years- there the ones that have gotten him from point A to point B no matter how worn in they are, they’re comfortable and familiar something that he needs right now.
“I’m going for a walk.” He says grabbing his jacket from the pile of clothes.
Phil looks up, scanning his face for anything but Dan’s voice is steady, masked by a good day.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Phil looks ready to get up even though he has editing to do.
Dan shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine. I won’t go far.”
“Okay.” Phil doesn’t sound convinced but he gets up and reaches over to pull Dan in his arms and Dan melts into the hug.
He didn’t realise how touch starved he was until now. He wants to melt into his body, carry the feeling that this hug gives him in his pocket for every single rainy day, but too soon Phil pulls away and Dan doesn’t ask for more.
“Keep your phone on you?” Phil asks, looking over to the corner where Dan’s phone laid on a charger.
“Yeah, Phil,” he nods his head, watching the second of anxiety that passes through Phil, and it pains Dan knowing that he was the cause of that anxiety- because once before Dan left without a trace and he’d come back to five missed calls and numerous worried texts because Dan had just gone and didn’t tell him.
Before Dan leaves he pulls Phil in for a kiss. It catches Phil off guard but when Dan pulls away Phil goes in for another, wanting to make it last even when his body is telling him to go.
“Okay.” Phil whispers, gently squeezing his hand and watching Dan leave.
*
He doesn’t go far. He sits at a bench overlooking the canal. Every now and then a bicycle bell will ring and the people who are coming out of nearby clubs will laugh and scream stumbling out of the way. He smells smoke and looks to a couple who are sharing a joint doing the same thing that he’s doing. Sitting. They’re talking and Dan doesn’t understand but he doesn’t need to.
Amsterdam has 165 canals.
This is the first text that gets from Phil.
Dan bites on his bottom lip shaking his head a little.
i’m sitting at one of the 165 rn
Dan takes a photo but it’s too dark you can barely see the water and he sends it to Phil.
Beautiful! The canals are lucky to have you in their presence.
Dan doesn’t reply back but he keeps the text in his heart hoping that it’ll fight the unwelcome guest that was currently staying there.
He gets up to find a corner store that’s still open, searching the aisles for the one thing that Phil finished earlier. He smiles when he sees it grabbing it and a bottle of water. The hotel isn’t too far, it’s surrounded by other buildings and people are walking home after late night shifts or a night with friends, Dan can feel at peace for a moment knowing that he can blend in.
The heaviness still weighs on his heart but he’s been trying for so long to runaway from what he felt instead of facing it head on, but this time he needs the company. Even though he didn’t spend that long outside it was the thought of him going out and doing it that counted. It was a small victory that he’ll have to text his therapist about, and he knows that he’ll get praised for it. He doesn’t have very many victories lately but he’s trying his best to find them in the small things; like going out for walks when his anxiety gets bad and the dark clouds seem to roll in.
He stands outside the hotel, looking at the lights that are still on wondering if Phil has finished editing for the night or if he’s calling his mum or brother. He soaks up the cold on his cheeks, lets the wind and the feeling pass through him like it always does. He was in a city that felt accepting, surrounded by a labyrinth of beautiful canals and amazing architecture and history with people that he cared about.
“Oi!” He hears and a bell rings and Dan quickly gets out of the way of the oncoming bicyclist, feeling his heart beating fast and he drops the water bottle and he bends down to pick it up feeling light headed from the sudden course of action.
What am I doing? He thinks to himself staring out the entrance of the hotel. He takes a deep breath, stepping into the light, nodding his head to the front desk and pressing up for the lift.
When he gets back in the room the telly is turned on and Phil is in his pyjamas with a computer on his lap. He’s surprised to see Dan, like he’s amazed that he showed up, but Dan wasn’t gone for very long, but enough to feel the need to come back.
Phil doesn’t ask how the walk was, just smiles a little moving the computer off of his lap and gets up to greet Dan who comes bearing gifts. Dan knows that he doesn’t need to give Phil something every time he thinks he does something wrong even when he didn’t do anything- anxiety was a tricky thing, it’s just that the thought gets to him sometimes, but he wanted to do something nice for Phil to let him know that he thought of him.
“Here,” Dan says, handing him the package of stroopwafels, his lips curl up in a small smile when Phil looks genuinely pleased.
“Aw,” he watches as Phil thumb smooths over the brand of stroopwafel and he looks back up at Dan. “Thank you.” He sits on the bed now, grabbing Dan’s hand and pulls him in.
Dan collapses on the bed with Phil, from this angle their bodies are too long but it gives them a chance to curl up.
Dan closes his eyes, letting Phil touch his face like he’s trying to memorise it, like things have changed since he last saw him. This was one of the ways that Phil loved him, and Dan let him. He won’t tell him, but he likes to be touched like this. Likes to be petted especially after a day of going out and being surrounded by people.
Dan was almost twenty-seven years old and he still wanted to be taken care of like this. He was learning that there was nothing wrong with that. He opens his mouth and Phil presses a finger to his lip, which are chapped and have a little bit of dried blood from when he bit down on it too hard.
“I think I need a break,” Dan says after a long silence, he opens his eyes to see Phil just staring at him, watching out for him while Dan let his eyes rest.
“Okay.” Phil says, his hand is on his shoulder. “When?”
Dan’s heart beats a little faster but he takes a deep breath, “Soon.”
“Okay.” Phil says again, nodding his head and tugging at a curl that rests on Dan’s temple.
*
When they settle in for bed Dan doesn’t check his phone like he normally does, he sets it on the charger away from him and spoons Phil.
His head feels like the labyrinth of canals sometimes, a little bit scattered, a little bit everywhere, beautiful in it’s own way, confusing in another, but everything that he felt was important.
“There’s 1,281 bridges in Amsterdam.” Phil says after a while, adding on to a game that they made up on the spot yet again.
Dan doesn’t always understand the rules to their games, but he thinks this one is just to make Dan smile, and it works.