Light up the Sky

I was sitting next to Frank, much to my ‘consciences’ dislike and I could feel him staring at me. We were in group therapy, meaning we didn’t have to talk unless asked to. The main therapist, Dr Mullen, was talking about food – asking us all how it made us feel and why we thought it made us feel that way. We were about half way around the circle and I was the next person who would be picked on to speak.

“Michael, what about you? How does food make you feel?” I gulped and allowed my body to tense.

I had always hated speaking out in front of lots of people, and talking about my ‘problems’ just made it that ten times worse.

“Erm… I- I don’t know.” But I did know. It made me feel disgusting, it made me feel un-worthy. Like I was eating something that someone else deserved. Not me – not Mistake James Way.

“Oh, come on. You must know,” he pried and I lowered my head from his horrendous gaze. I didn’t like this man, not one bit. I didn’t like the way his eyes bored into mine, I didn’t like the way it felt as if he was prying every tiny, last, miniscule detail out of your body through your eyes. I didn’t like it one bit.

“Erm… I guess- I guess un-worthy… Erm, like I don’t actually need it. Like there are plenty of other starving people out there who would do anything for that food and there I am, eating it. Stuffing it into my face, like a great, big, fat, un-worthy boy who doesn’t actually need it.”

I had started to rant. Spilling every last thing I felt about food to the, however many there were, people in the room. They were nodding along to the bits that they agreed with, all looking at me – staring, taking in every last word that spilled out of my mouth. And there was nothing that I could do about it. I couldn’t stop myself, I had lost control of my mind and it wouldn’t let me stop talking.

It was only when I started crying that I stopped talking, when Frank’s hand searched out for mine and he linked our fingers together. It was only when I felt Frank’s thumb rubbing over my own knuckle that I realized what I wanted.

I realized that I wanted Frank, I had gone so long without any source of friendship, without any source of care in my life – and Frank had given that to me. In that one day, and the half a day yesterday, I realized that Frank was the only person who had truly cared for me. Excluding my brother, of course. Frank was the only person who didn’t know me – who knew nothing about me – but still wanted to help.

I wanted Frank.

--

We were walking back to our room, Frank’s hand still interlocked with my own as it had been the rest of the way through our group therapy. He hadn’t let go and neither had I, even when he was answering the question – he kept his hand firmly pressed into my own.

It turned out that Frank felt pretty similar about food, he said how it made him feel disgusting, how he had no control over it and that he had no control over what he was putting into his body so he just stopped altogether. It was pretty sad, when you think about it – this boy who was probably once so attractive, had ruined himself because of food.

Frank unlocked our door with his key, his hand still in mine and he pushed open the door – dragging me in behind him and leading us both over to his bed. He sat down first, pulling me down along with him and he lay back, his feet and head hanging off either side. I giggled slightly and did the same, out fingers still locked together.

I looked at him, his hair was on end and his neck was bent back – as mine was too. He looked… cute, really adorable. I’m sure he would have looked a whole lot better before though, when his cheeks were full, his eye sockets had a different colour to them; not that horrible purple-black colour that they held now. I’m sure he was once this truly beautiful boy.

God, I sound so… gay! Thinking about how Frank must have looked… beautiful. What the hell is wrong with you? Are you loosing your mind? Have you gone crazy?

Frank looked back at me, a smile written all over his face; making me smile in return. I really did think he was beautiful, and I didn’t know what to do. Why should I think this boy is beautiful? I’m not gay… am I? Sure, I’ve never had a girlfriend – but I’ve never had a boyfriend! I’ve never been attracted to anyone; male nor female. Was this the first person that I was attracted to – and how can I be sure? If I’ve never felt attracted to anyone before, how can I be certain that I am attracted to Frank now?

Frank rolled over onto his side and moved so his head was now at the top of his bed rather than hanging over the side and I followed his movements as he had never let go of my hand. His thumb started rubbing over my knuckles again and I smiled at him.

Our bodies were facing inwards, at each other, and I was staring into his eyes – they were a shade of hazel. It was a light shade, and they had light specks of gold here and there. I bit the inside of my cheek, why am I feeling like this? Why do I want nothing more than to be able to kiss him? I’ve known him for a day and a half! I can’t like him this much in the space of those few hours… can I?

And anyway, even if I did like him – Frank’s straight. I’m sure of it; he doesn’t seem like the kind of boy who is gay…

(If he’s not gay, why is he still holding your hand?)

(I… I don’t know! Maybe he just wants the comfort – maybe it’s for my benefit, not his.)

(Then why is he leaning forwards, why is he now using his fingers – which are still linked in yours – to brush the hair out of your eyes. Why are you letting him?)

(Because… maybe he thinks that I can’t see. And I’m letting him because... because I like it.)
Frank’s stayed locked on mine, his gaze never leaving me and he leant forwards even more; his face coming closer and closer to my own. I didn’t know what to do – what was hedoing? I’ve never been in a situation like this before…

But before I knew it, Frank’s lips had pushed up against mine and my eyes had slipped shut; Frank’s tongue managed to part my lips and I gladly allowed him to massage his tongue across mine. I didn’t know what I was doing – of course I knew I was kissing him, but I didn’t know how or why I was kissing him. I only knew that I liked it. I liked it a lot.

He pulled away and I let out an involuntary groan – before feeling my cheeks flush red. Frank giggled slightly, and gave my hand a light squeeze.

“Hi…” he giggled.