Chapter Text
James was at the edge of the cliff. Not an actual one, mind you, but a metaphorical ridge between going forward or staying behind. James was stuck in the middle of one of the hardest decisions of his life. Does he stay ? - Here with his family or does he leave with his love?
James had always been a helpless romantic. He was a ‘ love sick puppy’ as Peter would call him, James always thought that had more accurately described Sirius but he understood where Peter was coming from. Him and Lily were now good friends and he saw her as a sister but he remembered how he had followed her around for a good 3 years before he slowly came to realise that she really did not love him. She didn’t love him. She never had and never would. So he had asked himself all the questions he could think of to see what was wrong. Was there something wrong with him? What had he done wrong ? He is supposed to be loved, supposed to get married to a woman, love her and have children. But James wasn’t so sure that is what he wanted anymore. He wanted love. Unconditional, requited love.
He had always been loved by someone in his life but never romantically. Platonically or maternally. It was almost as if he wasn’t capable of accepting anything else. He envied his parents' love sometimes. The way his dad would look at his mum with such love in his eyes that he looked as though she held the world, or when his mum knew exactly what his dad needed just by looking at him.
That was real love.
James wanted that type of love. Not just from anyone though. From him. Not her, him. He knew there was nothing wrong with loving a man but he knew it was wrong to love the person he did. Who he wished held him tight and wanted to have run his hand through his hair and point towards the constellation whilst naming all the ones he knew. He wanted to be loved by someone who would hold all the stars in the sky for him.
Someone who cared.
Of course other people asked him if he was okay when he looked a bit sad but that had only happened once or twice because James was always happy. James had to be happy. But he was so tired. So tired of being told who to love, who to hate, what to do, who to be. Why can’t he just be James? Why can’t he be himself? He had to act if he was okay every single day.
James always thought he was a bit weird. He knew everyone was just doing him a favour by pretending to like him. He knew he was weird. So he made a list of all the things he knew were weird. He knew it was weird to have a favourite fork and plate and colour and he knew that it was weird to want to sit on the right side of the bench opposite Sirius at Breakfast every single goddamned time. He knew it was weird that he felt like he might explode if he didn’t order the same chocolate brand each time at Hogsmeade and he knew it was weird to have a favourite blanket that had to be the right way up - fluffy side down - and he knew that it was weird that he had to wake up at 7:00 on the dot everyday but he had to deal with it. He was James Potter. Son of Euphemia and Fleamont Potter. He couldn’t let them down. Couldn’t let other people see his mask break. It was so perfectly crafted to stop the tears from falling down his cheek until he was alone and had placed a silencing charm around his bed. He had crafted it perfectly so that when he was told for the seven hundredth time he was ‘stupid’ or ‘ dumb’ or an ‘idiot’ by Lily Evans or Avery or Snape and even sometimes Marlene (but he knew she didn’t mean it like the others did). He wouldn’t show how much the words punched him in the gut. They didn’t know that he already knew these things. He knew he wasn’t as smart as Remus and he wasn’t as handsome as Sirius and he wasn’t as understanding as Peter.
He knew that. But he didn’t want to always be reminded what a failure he was - is.
But the pressure kept building and building and building . He wanted it all to stop. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to be able to laugh and actually feel happy - not hollow. He wanted to be able to look at himself in the mirror and see how good he looks instead of wanting to cry because that baby fat just won’t go away. No matter how much he doesn’t eat or how much he exercises it won’t go away.
He wanted to be loved. That's all really. That's all he wanted. But the pressure keeps building and building and building.
And one day he just explodes.