Outsiders

I stared up at him, the words floating around in the air. My mind still felt clouded and I was asleep more rather than awake, or so it felt, as my body was numbed and I was tired out of my mind. I felt… drowsy. He held me in his arms, and I was as vulnerable as always. He could have broke me by one single mean word. He could have popped me like a balloon and watched my heart break in half. But he didn’t. Any of those words and phrases which were meant to be comforting - ”well see it from the bright side, from now one it can only get better - would have been like a drop in a bucket, but being John he wouldn’t say any crap like that. He did it right. This meant more to me than anything else. Like that day just weeks ago when he had confessed his love for Tim in the school library. The happiness I had felt for that brief moment for thinking it might be me he liked. How excited I had been, hopeful, alive. It came back. The warmth in my heart and cheeks, butterflies fluttering in my guts. He liked me back? He actually liked me back? After all this, after ignoring me for weeks and watching me as screwed up as this, he loved me?

I snaked my arm out from the towels insides - being a human burrito as always - quivering with weakness as I reached up for his face. He closed his eyes slightly as my wet hand traced down his cheek, my fingertips gently touching his skin - then I slapped him. He flinched, staring down at me, confusion drowning his eyes in an odd mixture with the tears.

“Alright”, he said, hesitatingly. “I think I deserved that.”

I smiled at him, sobbed and shook my head instantly.

“You’re stupid, you know that?” I wired my arms around him, obviously being confusing, but I didn’t give a damn. I pressed my cheek against his soaked chest and spoke into the cloth. “You tell me this only now?”

I wasn’t even mad or disappointed it had came out just now; I was too busy being happy he had actually said it. I never would have imagined this moment happening after all the things that had been going on and all the things that I‘d done wrong. Well, I never would have imagined this happening ever. Especially not in this scenario. Not on my bathroom floor, me in his lap, damp with water from the bathtub and emptied bottles of pills and Vodka filling the sink.

I felt John’s hand run gently through my hair, which was greatly appreciated after the hair pulling in the cafeteria earlier. I even had to keep myself from shuddering and tightened my grip around him. But even now I was still too shy to look up at him.

”I was blind I guess, stupid and really blind. And I thought if I said anything you'd want to stop being my friend, and that made me anxious enough to not say a thing.”

I darted my eyes up towards him, then looked down at the floor, trying to connect the dots.

“But you told me you like Tim.”

"Because I thought what I felt for you was just me feeling a lot for my best friend, but I never really was good with deciphering my emotions. Not even my own.”

I swallowed a thick lump forming in my throat, tears threatening to fall.

“You mean… all this time…”

“…it was you I liked.” He nodded silently. “I’m sorry.”

I looked up, even though I felt the brush creep over my cheeks. He looked back down at me, his long hair in stripes down his face, his eyes filled with regret. God, I just wanted to kiss him. But I figured it would be quite the inappropriate thing, even after this confession of his. It didn’t change the fact I had just been awakened from the dead by throwing up in the bath. Trying to hold back a laugh, the corner of my lips twitched and he must have noticed this as he smiled too.

“Do you realize your confusion with emotions is what has put us in this situation?”

"Oh I realise, trust me on that. You can also trust the fact that right now, I loathe myself for ever making you think that this-" he gestured with his hand around the room "-was the only option to get out of it."

I quickly reacted on the words and shook my head, immediately a concerned frown on my face, hiding behind the faint blush. “Don’t loathe yourself. You’re wonderful.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek, over the reddening which was forming from my weak slap. It shouldn’t be considered such a big move, but this was me, and for me even hugging John like this was a big damn step. I barely even realized what I had done until I sat back up and looked at him again. “You’re beautiful.” I smiled, quite awkwardly. “I don’t know if I should thank you for saving me, but at least I thank you for… well, for being you.”

"I'm not the beautiful one here, I'm just the one lucky enough to be holding someone so perfect in my arms." He stopped, then he kissed my forehead. I tried to hold on to the feeling of his lips brushing softly over me, but he pulled away shortly after. "But I have to thank you for being the person who still wants me, even after I have hurt you so much.”

“Shh”, I hushed, and he stopped abruptly and pressed his lips tight together, but couldn’t help but smile. I’d always love his smile, for evermore. “It doesn’t matter. Seriously, it doesn’t matter anymore, so please don’t worry about it. Whatever you feel guilty about, I forgive you, and we can just forget about it.”

“But there’s one thing I cannot forget.” He searched behind his back and gently grabbed my hand resting on his back, looking up at me for some sort of confirmation, but as I simply followed his hand with my gaze he continued. He brought it out in front of us, slowly pulling up my sleeves. Old pale scars and newer, just a few days old cuts were scattered over my forearm, in different lengths and widths, differently colored depending on time and mood. How long had he known? My cheeks flushed in a darker shade of red, pulsating in my ear as I looked over the deranged skin. The worst was how I never saw John even leave it with his gaze.

”This has got to stop, Kenny. You're worth far much more than to ever even consider harming yourself like this." He stroked with his thumb over them, and I swear, if my super hero sense was to get alarmed whenever John was in danger, then his was the power of healing, because that was exactly how it felt like. "Don't you realize that you're perfect in my eyes? You don't deserve this pain, I'd do anything to make it go away for you.”

“And you do that simply by being here.” He looked up at me but my gaze was locked at his hand over my cuts. “I may be damaged beyond repair, mentally and psychically or whatever you want to call it. But even when I feel like I’m drowning, and my thoughts and everybody’s dumb comments are stepping on me to get further down, away from the surface of light and safety, you’re always there to lift me up.” I looked up at him. “And even if that made no sense, you help me breathe. You keep me alive by just being here with me.”

”Maybe that's the only good thing I can do with my life. I'll always be here for you. Forever is you and me, you got that Kenny?”

From cold from the wet clothes on me, and from the billions and billions of emotions welling up inside of me, I felt myself starting to shiver. I simply nodded, my lower lip quivering as I bit down on it fiercely. I wouldn’t cry again, not now. The moment was too beautiful to be ruined by me getting sentimental as always. But of course, he noticed anyway.

"Hey, don't cry over my lame-ass words! You know I've always been a little sentimental at times." He pulled me in and hugged me tightly, before letting me go to be able to look me in the eyes again. "You're shivering way too much Kenny, I think you need that sweater a lot more than I do, and this time, keep it. Think of it as always having something of me with you, anytime you feel alone and I'm not there, that can be my hug to you."

His hands were placed on my shoulders, and he slowly slid them down, throwing the towel aside and then watching them cautiously move down my waist and reaching the hem of my hoodie. His fingers hooked underneath it and pulled on it, and I stretched my arms out for him to be able to pull it over my head, letting it land with a splashy sound on the tiled floor. An impulse was to immediately cover myself with my hands, but I felt like John had invaded so much of my privacy already, he was plainly allowed to see. And god, did I feel him look. His gaze scanned like a dagger over my torso, but as I looked up at him from underneath my hair his eyes were narrowed, stuck at the V shape by the waistband of my jeans. He must have noticed I caught him, like a deer in headlights, and he shook his head and looked away. I slid down from his lap as he stood up, quickly exiting the bathroom and rushing down the stairs, shortly returning with the package in hand. He ripped the paper open, throwing it on the floor with the note I had left him landing beside it. It gave me a little bit of ache in my heart how it had been thrown aside, even if I had done it very quickly and not to very thought through, but my sadness was interrupted as he sat down in front of me again. He didn’t even just hand me the sweater; he held it out over my head and I reached my arms out again as he pulled it on, making it comfortable and as snuggly as it could be. He brushed some hair out of my face, wet and matted, putting it behind my ears. His thumb stroked down my cheek, and he flashed me a smile, nodding towards the note on the floor.

“That was beautiful, by the way.”

I looked down at the floor, smiling faintly. Oh jeez, of course he hadn‘t forgotten about that. After all, he was John fucking Lowery, and God forgive me for swearing while mentioning this man but he was just so fucking amazing at making me feel happy in the darkest of times it needed a heavy vocabulary. “I was hoping you’d read it.”

“I nearly memorized it.”

As shocked as I was, I didn’t dare to look up. I kept fiddling with my thumbs in my lap, twisting awkwardly as to win time to think, but instead of answering with something meaningful I just mumbled; “Huh?”

“Dearest John” he quoted, and as I looked up at him I noticed he was looking right back at me, not reading from the note. “Something is terribly wrong with my head today. It’s like I’m slowly going mad. Perhaps I’m only day dreaming, but I feel like I’m decaying, but most possibly merely fading. I can’t even trust my own mind anymore.” He stopped, hesitated, looked at me rather deadpan, then quickly turned and picked up the note very discretely and I laughed a little. He continued; “I don’t feel anything except a slight difficulty to go on existing.”

“You don’t have to read that.”

“I want to”, John said abruptly. “It’s beautiful. Are you aware of that?”

I shrugged. “Not really. I just wrote it before I went off to school.”

He didn’t answer, but looked down at the paper again. “That said, I feel relatively alleviated.” I didn’t really want to hear it. Sure I had already forgotten what I had even written, mostly since it was done at about 6 in the morning and I had been more busy crying my eyes out writing it, probably staining the paper together with the thick lines of ink, but it was still a way too emotional moment to want to look back on. But John’s voice was so mesmerizing, so soothing, so I kept on listening anyway. “I’ll be better wherever I go, into nowhere or some black abyss. Anywhere is better than here. But believe me, in my own selfish way I do wish I could bring you with me. But you don’t want me, so I’ll spare you that stupidity.” He tilted his head slightly forward, his hair falling in his face, but before he did I caught a glimpse of his eyes. He looked so insecure, and so shy, like he really did regret. I didn’t mind it really, the fact I was sure he hated me. Now afterwards I had figured I probably deserved all that pain. “Please stay well. I know you will, now that I’m out of the way. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure this goes easy. One pill for my sadness, one pill for my idiocy, one pill for loving you, another for the lack of self control. Then one simple cut for a thousand problems. They say time heals the pain but I’ve been waiting forever and I’m still more scarred than my wrist is. I‘m so tired of waiting for something which will never come.”

A black tear rolled down his cheek, smearing his eyeliner and hitting the paper, mixing with my own as he cursed, sniffing angrily. He was crying. He was fucking crying.

I leaned forward, reaching my arm out for him. “John, I-”

“Wait“, he said, his voice breaking, so vulnerable, and he furiously wiped the tears off his face, then grabbed the paper with both hands and held it up close to his eyes. “When you read this, don’t be frightened. Don’t try to save me from my biggest wish. Don’t cry, don’t tell, and please don’t bring me back. I’ve waited for this a long time now and I’m so glad I’ve finally come to terms. I‘ll be… fine, and-” He whimpered something inaudible, unable to finish the sentence. He dropped the paper to the floor and hid his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking in sync with his sobbing.

A felt a lump in my throat, my stomach in knots. I didn’t dare to touch him, instead I stayed where I was, tugging on the sleeves of the sweater. “… And you’ll be better without me. Goodbye, my love and only friend.” I picked the paper up, ripping it apart in two. “ Ps. Don’t rush. I’m already dead.”

I threw the two pieces away to land wherever. Then I shuffled up closer and sat down in front of John. I patiently waited for him to calm down, stroking his shoulder to try to silence him. It broke my heart to see him like this and I wanted him to be alright again. I wasn’t sure what gave me the idea, but I felt like I knew exactly what to do about it. I grabbed his wrists, brought his hands down and he looked into my eyes, his cheeks stained with tears and makeup and his eyes gleaming in the weak lightening. I shut my mind down. I couldn’t trust it anyway, right? I listened to something else. My heart? I wasn’t even sure what made me do it. But I quietly and quickly leaned in and placed my lips on his, and he simply allowed it to happen. Despite of the fact we were both broken, wet and dirty, on both outside and inside, it made my whole body feel on fire, and it wasn’t only of nervousness. Despite of how John had just given a blowjob, smelling of smoke and burnt rubber, and I probably tasted of half a bottle of Vodka - no, because of these little things, it made the moment absolutely beautiful. We were both screwed up completely, but we had each other. Like it should have always been. We were outsiders after all, and we stuck together, whether we enjoyed it or not. But right now, both of us did quite enjoy it - which wasn’t only shown by the smile on John’s face - so we simply just continued. For a very, very long while.