Troubled Thoughts and a Self-Esteem to Match
troubled thoughts and a self-esteem to match
patrick paced nervously on pete’s porch while they waited for the door to open. they could hear pete’s lethargic early morning steps approaching slowly and his sleep-roughed voice calling out to “hold on, he was coming,” and these things only made the nervousness and anxiety curling and twisting their stomach into knots worse. the footsteps stopped and patrick could hear pete fumbling with the lock on the other side, muttering something about it being too early to be awake, even though it was almost twelve o’ clock. the doorknob turned and pete opened the door just wide enough to peer out at patrick with half-lidded eyes and stood there for a moment, probably debating whether or not to close the door and tell them to come back later. for a good five minutes there was nothing but silence between the two and patrick decided to speak up before pete had the chance to close the door.
”pete, i need to talk to you.”
pete groaned loudly and pushed the door open wide enough for patrick to come in before stumbling off to some undisclosed part of the house to get some clothes on. patrick sat down on the couch and looked around the sparsely decorated living room. a few picture frames were scattered here and there and a gaudy black and rainbow patterned vase was perched on a shelf, but beyond those items there was only furniture. normally patrick would think this was abnormal for pete, but considering he’d gotten divorced about a year ago and for the first few months nearly everything reminded him of his wife so he’d discarded them, they could understand. their eyes fell on a picture frame balanced precariously on a shelf that housed a yellowed and faded photograph and they vaguely recognised it but couldn’t identify from their spot on the couch. for a second patrick pondered getting up to get a closer look but pete shuffled back into the room and set a cup of coffee down on the table in front of them.
”so what did you need to talk about?” pete asked, sitting down next to patrick and crossing his legs like a kindergartener. patrick sucked in a deep breath and looked down at his hands. “it’s a little less need to talk, a little more “coming out.”” they mumbled, and it took pete a minute to register what he’d said. “coming out? like, you’re gay or something?” patrick nodded. “something like that.” pete took a sip of whatever was in the mug in his hands and swallowed. “so what is it?”
this was it, the moment of truth. pete seemed so chill with the idea of patrick being “gay or something,” but how would he feel when they told him what that that something was? “i’m..have you ever felt like maybe you didn’t want to be male?” pete shook his head and took another sip of his drink. “alright, that’s understandable, but um, that’s sorta how i feel. but i don’t want to be female either. i just..don’t know how to describe it.” pete set his mug down and smiled. “pattycakes, i think the word you’re looking for is non-binary.” patrick nodded and pete scooted closer. “you look like you’re about to cry. is something wrong?”
“n-no. i’m just..” and they did start crying which didn’t exactly take pete by surprise. “shhh, shhh, it’s alright trick,” he said softly, rubbing comforting circles on patrick’s back. “i’m here for you. always have been, always will be.” this only made patrick cry harder, and by the time the tears had ceased they were pretty much curled up in pete’s lap with his fingers running through their hair.
”thank you pete.”
”for what?”
”for accepting me and being here for me.”
”pete, i need to talk to you.”
pete groaned loudly and pushed the door open wide enough for patrick to come in before stumbling off to some undisclosed part of the house to get some clothes on. patrick sat down on the couch and looked around the sparsely decorated living room. a few picture frames were scattered here and there and a gaudy black and rainbow patterned vase was perched on a shelf, but beyond those items there was only furniture. normally patrick would think this was abnormal for pete, but considering he’d gotten divorced about a year ago and for the first few months nearly everything reminded him of his wife so he’d discarded them, they could understand. their eyes fell on a picture frame balanced precariously on a shelf that housed a yellowed and faded photograph and they vaguely recognised it but couldn’t identify from their spot on the couch. for a second patrick pondered getting up to get a closer look but pete shuffled back into the room and set a cup of coffee down on the table in front of them.
”so what did you need to talk about?” pete asked, sitting down next to patrick and crossing his legs like a kindergartener. patrick sucked in a deep breath and looked down at his hands. “it’s a little less need to talk, a little more “coming out.”” they mumbled, and it took pete a minute to register what he’d said. “coming out? like, you’re gay or something?” patrick nodded. “something like that.” pete took a sip of whatever was in the mug in his hands and swallowed. “so what is it?”
this was it, the moment of truth. pete seemed so chill with the idea of patrick being “gay or something,” but how would he feel when they told him what that that something was? “i’m..have you ever felt like maybe you didn’t want to be male?” pete shook his head and took another sip of his drink. “alright, that’s understandable, but um, that’s sorta how i feel. but i don’t want to be female either. i just..don’t know how to describe it.” pete set his mug down and smiled. “pattycakes, i think the word you’re looking for is non-binary.” patrick nodded and pete scooted closer. “you look like you’re about to cry. is something wrong?”
“n-no. i’m just..” and they did start crying which didn’t exactly take pete by surprise. “shhh, shhh, it’s alright trick,” he said softly, rubbing comforting circles on patrick’s back. “i’m here for you. always have been, always will be.” this only made patrick cry harder, and by the time the tears had ceased they were pretty much curled up in pete’s lap with his fingers running through their hair.
”thank you pete.”
”for what?”
”for accepting me and being here for me.”