Broken Bones
Broken Bones
“I just need to know there’s a reason for me to stay. I don’t want to disappear. I really don’t. But I can feel me going, Brendon. Every day, pieces of me get taken away and I don’t know who or what’s taking these pieces and I don’t know how to stop it. And people are telling me to hold on but to hold on to fucking what, Brendon?! There’s nothing fucking there. There’s nothing to cling to. Shit happens, things change, how am I suppose to hang on to something unpredictable? I’m grasping for like fucking buoys and getting swept out into the fucking sea. I’m sick of this shit.” tears were streaming down Ryan’s face and he clumsily wiped his nose, as he sat down on the edge of the springy bed.
He put his hands over his low hung head and wept. He cried for every time he didn’t know what to do and he couldn’t stop because he never knew what to do. A few minutes passed and he lifted his head up to show case the red that had taken over his eyes and the layer of dried tear trails.
“And don’t tell me it’ll all be over soon because you don’t know that. And don’t tell me it’ll all be okay in the end because I can feel the end and the end’s now and no, it’s not fucking okay.” He looked desperately at Brendon waiting for him to say something, anything. Waiting to be proven wrong because that’s what’s suppose to happen. When you’re down in the dump and feeling hopeless your friend is suppose to pick you up with one hand and pat you on the back with the other. That’s how friendship works.
Brendon just stared through Ryan not comprehending what was going on. How hadn’t he noticed that Ryan was evaporating right before him. Just broken bones shifting through days? Why…was he not paying attention enough? What…
“I don’t know what to say.” Brendon admitted, his voice flat and dead. He was crying, not hard, but he didn’t wipe the tears. They fell down for Ryan to show him that he did care. “What am I suppose to say?”
And that was the trouble. Ryan was metaphorically standing on the edge of a building, wondering where his parachute was and Brendon was the parachute that didn’t know how to work.
What could you do if you had nothing to hold you up? And what words could one say to make sure that changed?
Ryan looked around the room, wishing he were anywhere but there. Brendon walked over to the bed and sat beside him.
“Could you just…could you just hold me for a while?” Ryan whispered through his croaky voice. “You don’t have to say anything to me yet or ever but could you just hold me?”
Brendon, disappointed that his voice had let him down and defeated by the depressing situation nodded his head, put an arm around Ryan, and let his friend lean in as close as possible as they cried.
It was going to take more than one night to fight these shadows and it was going to take more than one night to capture the right words to say but for now Ryan being rocked to sleep was all that they could accomplish and for a moment it was enough.
He put his hands over his low hung head and wept. He cried for every time he didn’t know what to do and he couldn’t stop because he never knew what to do. A few minutes passed and he lifted his head up to show case the red that had taken over his eyes and the layer of dried tear trails.
“And don’t tell me it’ll all be over soon because you don’t know that. And don’t tell me it’ll all be okay in the end because I can feel the end and the end’s now and no, it’s not fucking okay.” He looked desperately at Brendon waiting for him to say something, anything. Waiting to be proven wrong because that’s what’s suppose to happen. When you’re down in the dump and feeling hopeless your friend is suppose to pick you up with one hand and pat you on the back with the other. That’s how friendship works.
Brendon just stared through Ryan not comprehending what was going on. How hadn’t he noticed that Ryan was evaporating right before him. Just broken bones shifting through days? Why…was he not paying attention enough? What…
“I don’t know what to say.” Brendon admitted, his voice flat and dead. He was crying, not hard, but he didn’t wipe the tears. They fell down for Ryan to show him that he did care. “What am I suppose to say?”
And that was the trouble. Ryan was metaphorically standing on the edge of a building, wondering where his parachute was and Brendon was the parachute that didn’t know how to work.
What could you do if you had nothing to hold you up? And what words could one say to make sure that changed?
Ryan looked around the room, wishing he were anywhere but there. Brendon walked over to the bed and sat beside him.
“Could you just…could you just hold me for a while?” Ryan whispered through his croaky voice. “You don’t have to say anything to me yet or ever but could you just hold me?”
Brendon, disappointed that his voice had let him down and defeated by the depressing situation nodded his head, put an arm around Ryan, and let his friend lean in as close as possible as they cried.
It was going to take more than one night to fight these shadows and it was going to take more than one night to capture the right words to say but for now Ryan being rocked to sleep was all that they could accomplish and for a moment it was enough.