Status: NaNoWriMo - 21,112 words.
Exits and Entrances
thomas shannon.
I wake up on Danny’s couch with a pounding in my head and an ache in my gut the size of Texas and I know it’s because of you. It’s always because of you, and all the words I’m afraid to say.
I’ve decided something, whilst high and probably while passed out on the concrete in Danny’s basement. When you leave for college, I’ll give these to you. I will stack them neatly in order and tie them off with a rubber band, handing them to you with my sacrificial and ceremonial last words, chosen carefully from the string of good ones I happen to know. And maybe, just maybe, that will loosen the heavy weight on my chest like a buffalo sitting there.
But I doubt it. Even that isn’t the closure those therapists are always talking about. After all, you spend all your time worrying about everyone else except for two people. Yourself, for one thing, and me.
My mom used to tell me that you were a special case. That you were one that needed to be watched carefully, because given the chance, you would waste away worrying about others and forget about yourself until it all came crashing down on you. I never believed her when she told me (I was fifteen, after all), but now, watching you with my feet planted firmly a few steps back, I can see it.
You worry about me.
You worry about Danny.
You worry about Caroline.
You worry about Carlo, despite hating him.
You worry about your mom, your dad, your brothers.
You worry even about Matt and his brother.
But never about yourself.
What would happen when you finally broke down? But then I realize it, Cady. You already have.
I would have given up a long time ago. And maybe in your eyes I already have. You know what the difference between me and you is?
I know when to cut my losses and get out. And right now, you’ve given up on me and everything to do with me, but I haven’t lost with you yet, Cady.
You were always something special and something I would give my entire world to hold on to and here you are throwing it all away for some boy who just wants your body and not everything else that I find special about you.
There. I finally said it. How does it feel to know the true about every guy in the entire world, and especially where we live?
I hope it hurts.
I’ve decided something, whilst high and probably while passed out on the concrete in Danny’s basement. When you leave for college, I’ll give these to you. I will stack them neatly in order and tie them off with a rubber band, handing them to you with my sacrificial and ceremonial last words, chosen carefully from the string of good ones I happen to know. And maybe, just maybe, that will loosen the heavy weight on my chest like a buffalo sitting there.
But I doubt it. Even that isn’t the closure those therapists are always talking about. After all, you spend all your time worrying about everyone else except for two people. Yourself, for one thing, and me.
My mom used to tell me that you were a special case. That you were one that needed to be watched carefully, because given the chance, you would waste away worrying about others and forget about yourself until it all came crashing down on you. I never believed her when she told me (I was fifteen, after all), but now, watching you with my feet planted firmly a few steps back, I can see it.
You worry about me.
You worry about Danny.
You worry about Caroline.
You worry about Carlo, despite hating him.
You worry about your mom, your dad, your brothers.
You worry even about Matt and his brother.
But never about yourself.
What would happen when you finally broke down? But then I realize it, Cady. You already have.
I would have given up a long time ago. And maybe in your eyes I already have. You know what the difference between me and you is?
I know when to cut my losses and get out. And right now, you’ve given up on me and everything to do with me, but I haven’t lost with you yet, Cady.
You were always something special and something I would give my entire world to hold on to and here you are throwing it all away for some boy who just wants your body and not everything else that I find special about you.
There. I finally said it. How does it feel to know the true about every guy in the entire world, and especially where we live?
I hope it hurts.