I'm Still a Little Crazy

When there's no way to communicate an emotion in spoken word, musicians turn to writing songs. I think we've all come to terms with that part. And I'm sure that 99% of the world is rather happy that musicians do this, seeing as we all quite enjoy listening and contemplating their songs. Obsess even, if you will. The lyrics they write move us, weather it be literally or figuratively. Inspiration through musical songs and lyrics is absolutely one of the world's greatest joys in life, as far as I can see it.

But at this moment, I can't say with much enthusiasm that I was all too happy with Josh's lyrics.

No, I'm not some big shot lyricist critic. But I don’t think there's many people out there who'd feel too proud of themselves, after reading those heart wrenching words, and knowing that you'd been apart of the cause to push the boy to write them.

I couldn't even wholly comprehend the meaning behind every verse, either. It was like a twisted poetic puzzle that I'd never be able to piece together. But what did that matter, that I couldn't understand them? Josh's words, and his alone. I think that's what was making my eyes sting like they were – Josh had written this, and he had chosen to show me.

A shiver rippled up my spine, bringing my conciousness back to where I was, sitting in the middle of a soccer field at night with Josh. I let out the breath I'd been holding slowly, looking up at Josh's face.

"I think you have something to tell me, by the looks of this." I said, trying to sound calm.

Josh gave me a small nodd, chuckling a bit.

"At least your not asking me why I gave it to you in the first place. I actually had great number of very bad scenarios planned out in my head. . . or I guess not planned, but planted by Matt."

I laughed. "Matt? What kind of insight would he have on this?" I asked cynically.

"Oh, you know. 'She might start crying, she's kind of emotionally distraught.' I didn't really believe that one though, since I spend a lot more time with you than he does. And how is your own brother supposed to know you that well anyway – I hardly think I know Sara sometimes."

I nodded with a smile.

"But, Josh? Really. When did you write this?" I asked, scared of my own words.

"September. Or right after. Or maybe it was way after. I can hardly put that whole memory back together. I just had this revelation a couple nights ago, how every night after we. . stopped talking all together, I'd lie in bed, looking at my ceiling, and just repeat the words 'I'm sorry'. Most nights anyway, when I couldn't fall asleep. And I couldn't figure out why that weird lonely feeling wouldn't just die. I felt so tired and drained, from just. . being low, all the time. It's surprising how feeling lonely can actually make you feel so tired, too tired to ever let anything make you feel better. "

"But it wasn't just that I was practically fading away from everyone left in my life. It was the dread that the next day, and the day after. . . I wouldn't be spending it with you anymore. And I had to wonder, why did we just throw a friendship away? How could I have hurt both of us so much."

Well. What does go through one's mind in this situation?

My back hurts.

Yeah. That's what I was thinking.

Wrapping my arms around my shoulders and turning, I cracked my back twice to releave the tension, staring down at the grass. Josh laughed lightly, presumably at my odd reaction. I glanced up and smiled.

"I know, probably not the most verbal response in the world, hey?" I rolled my eyes with a smirk. "But I'm not about to avoid this either." I added solemnly. How guilty would that make me, leaving Josh with just his words to brood over?

"I don't know that anything I can say could change what we think of the past, Josh." I started, and slowly I reached over and took one of his hands in my own. "But what does matter is right now, and that the two of us have come to some sort of… concensus to put things behind us, move on, and be natural with each other again. Like, we've accepted things, and accept each other. Its like being best friends is another bonus along with it." I sighed happily, tightening my grip on Josh's fingers. "So you see? There's no reason for you to be distressed about this anymore. NO reason to be worrying over the past, because its done. Forgive yourself and forget about it, hun." I sniffed casually, trying to find the smile in his eyes.

But it was still the strangest thing, seeing his face try to smile, but the light in his eyes gone.

Slowly I rose myself up from the grass, taking Josh with me. I had to close my eyes for a moment, feeling more dizzy than usual, but settled when Josh engulfed me in a tight hug.

"You mean the world to me, Peyton." He whispered. I nodded my head, resting my cheek on his shoulder.

"Anything for you, Joshie." I laughed. As we pulled away, my vision blurred for a moment, but it passed quickly.

"Can we go? Either I'm really tired, or whatever disorder Sara keeps telling me I have is kicking in." I tucked my elbow in with Josh's as he lead us back to the parking lot. Yet the feeling that my head was spinning slightly wouldn't go away, even when we were driving quietly back to our neighborhood.

"Pey? You feeling any better?" Josh asked he pulled into his driveway. "You've been leaning your head against the window this whole time like you've been sleeping." He said with a light smile when I opened my eyes to look at him.

I swallowed and nodded. "Is Sara at home?" I couldn't even recolect why I wanted to know – usually she wasn't here if she was with Ian. Josh shook his head, shrugging.

"I barely know what she gets herself into." He replied. I nodded, letting myself out of the car. A moment later Josh's arm was around my middle, stabling me.

"You don't look like you're going to make it to the door on your own, Pey." He said when I looked at him sleepily. Making our way to his front door, I felt my stomach flip in a deffinatly unusal way, and as soon as we were inside, I leapt out of Josh's reach, up the stairs and into the bathroom beside Sara's bedroom.

It only took a second to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl. What a pleasant and wonderful a way to end the night.

A minute later, another body was kneeling beside me, pulling my hair away from my face as the wretching continued. As soon as my throat was clear, I managed to get a "thank you" out. Josh chuckled beside me.

"I think me now know the cause of your random dizzy spell?" he soothed. I scoffed at him, closing my eyes weakly for a moment.

"And what would that be?" My voice sounded so feeble and scratchy in my head.

"Some type of food poisoning. That makes you act very different from most poisoned people."

"Good to know you had this all planned out." I retorted. Josh laughed again, but stopped when another dry heave started in me.

One thing that I'm going to let the world know – I utterly hate being sick. It’s the dry heaves especially. My body hardly ever rejects food, but when it does, it's like my own personal hell for at least an hour. Let me repeat : hell.

It took a few moments for this spell of nausea to pass, and once it did, sweat was drenching my forhead. I pointed over to the sink where a wash cloth was sitting, and Josh thankfully took the hint to get it wet and whipe my face with it.

"Again – thank you." I muttered. Finally feeling well enough to bring my head out of gagging position, I leaned back to face my aide.

"Don't thank me, if anything you should be horridly mad at me for poisoning you. I'm so, so sorry." His eyes swam with pity, but his humorous tone never quite left him.

"No, it's not your fault. Whoever cooked it… where did you get the food from anyway? Ming's chinese food never gave me trouble like this." I questioned.

"It was a newer place closer to the art shop. I decided to try it out, I guess. Bad choice." He replied apologetically. "And Pey…there's no way you're going to be well enough to walk home and all the way up to your apartment. Want a lift back?"

I shook my head. Josh's face contorted into a shocked look, but I held a finger up to pause him.

"I may not look it, but trust me, I'm not done here. I think I'll either sleep on your bathroom floor or in Sara's room. She's not coming home tonight?" I asked. I'd be a little down hearted if I didn't get to see my best friend for an entire 24 hours, but she's extremely queasy when it comes to vomit – probably best she wasn't there.

Josh nodded wholeheartedly.

"I was going to suggest something to that degree after."

"Thought it more gentlemanly to take me home instead?" I teased. Josh shrugged playfully.

"Whoo knows. My mind is a myserty to us both."

I smiled slightly, trying to nodd. My body attacked me again though, sending shivers through my legs and up my spine. I wrapped my arms around me instinctively, taking in a shallow breath. Josh's eyes narrowed and he rushed out of the bathroom, only to return with the quilt from Sara's bed. Words weren't forming easily so I just smiled my gratitude to him as he wrapped it tightly around my cold body.

"This is bad Peyton." He whispered.

As soon as I could feel my feet again, I stood up shakily, with Josh's hand gripping my arm.

"I'm gonna go to sleep, I think." I was brutally exhausted from the strange experience of emptying my stomach. More than anything, I was glad to have Josh there, not acting disgusted or distant from me while I was sick – I'm a sucker for compassion.

Even with a dose of Gravol in my system now, sleep wasn't coming easy as I lay there on Sara's bed, staring out the grey window. I'd returned to the bathroom once in the two hours since deciding to try to sleep, only to find that the ill feeling wasn't going to return (thankfully).

A street light flickered irratically outisde, distracting my vision from the full moon that lit a pathway from the window to Sara's bedroom door. My eyes darted back and forth for a moment, from streetlight to door. It was like contemplating a decision – fall into an erratic and most likely interrupted sleep… or find comfort on the other side of that door?

I knocked timidly on Josh's already ajar door. A moment later, he swung it the rest of the way open. Clad in a t-shirt and dark shorts, he stood completely awake and aware infront of me.

"We're both insomniatic." I stated matter of factly. He laughed earnestly, and with a light touch on my back, lead my inside his room. Without a single word, he returned to his bed, sliding over to provide enough room for my small frame to reside in. I slid under the blanket timidly, shutting my eyes tightly to block out any arguments of this situation my brain my start on me.

I heard Josh's sigh and felt his fingers gently brush my hair shyly. He started to hum a soft melody in my ear, and it took no time for me to recognize the song. The lyrics Little Death weren't even needed to slowly push my drowsiness over the edge into sleep.

I couldn't say what exactly it was that truly helped me fall asleep after that draining night. Was it the lullaby? The gentle distraction of Josh's fingers combing my hair?

Or was it just knowing that I could be safe near him, safe enough to drift into sleep without fearing that I may be ill again?

I sincerely don't know. But I'm betting on it being him.