Nothing Like You.

I roll up my sleeves and run my finger tips over the lines that litter my left wrist. Thirteen of them are still visible; six of those will never fade. I know it’s a selfish and horrible thing to do myself but I can’t help it. I feel the stupid piece of plastic vibrating in my pocket; hey kid, mikey’s home, annie’s called, where are you? I ignored his texts, his calls; the only time I couldn’t ignore him is when I’m in his actual presence.

Five seconds later I noticed dad’s name flashing across the screen.

“I’m at the shore, chill out, I’m fine.”

I just hung up, didn’t wait for a response or nothing. I watched as those same families packed up to leave from their adventure of the day. The sun was slowly setting; the colors were changing from the blue hue to the pinks, purples and oranges of dusk, just before twilight.

It was some time before I felt a presence next to me, I didn’t have to glance next to me to know it was who I didn’t want it to be—Frank. Like I said, I do feel bad, he’s Mikey’s love and he’s second only to me in Mikey’s book. If Mikey finds something so great about him why can’t I?

“Look, Tucker, I know you’re not that fond of me…it hurts, but I know I can’t and don’t understand the bond between you and Mikes, but I’m trying and I’m at the point where I don’t know what the hell to do anymore.”

I was shocked; I was expecting some lecture on worrying Mikey, not this.

“It’s only trivial things, like Annie that you talk to me about…that came out wrong, she’s not trivial, but it’s only a few things you actually talk to me about, make me feel like I’m your parent.”

I glanced out over the shore, watching along the horizon as the sun set below the line. I wasn’t even sure anymore of my distance towards Frank, the why behind my hatred towards him. It used to be based on the sole purpose that he let Mikey do this to himself. He just sat there and watched the one person he oh so blatantly loved destroy himself.

If Annie ever did something like that I sure as hell wouldn’t let her just do it, I wouldn’t just sit there and let her learn from her mistakes. I watched and listened sometimes when Mikey thought I was asleep or when he thought I was out of ear-shot; I listened to him pour his heart out to that stupid photo of Frank he had on his small night stand.

I remember the day his family came to visit; it was the first time they came he said since he had been admitted. I noticed the sadness in Frank's eyes as he watched Mikey and I interact--I had replaced him, not in the sense of romantic love, but I definitely held the number one spot in Mikey's heart at that time; I still do. Frank dropped him off, he didn’t even say goodbye. It was silent, the whole ride was silent. How could he not say anything when he didn’t really know the next time he would see him?

“Can we not talk about this right now? I’ve got a lot going on in my mind right now.”

The harsh bitterness of my voice shocked even myself. I’ve never talked to anyone like that before. Then I felt it, that welling up of my eyes, the water threatening to spill over my lashes—why here and why now? I felt my chest grow heavy as the air fought to enter my lungs; I bit my tongue to keep in the sob that wanted so desperately to escape.

I felt two arms wrap around me and I lost it. I clung desperately to Frank, not caring that it was him who was my rock at the moment. I let mumbled apologies slip out; my dislike towards him, my mistakes, my issues, my fears—everything. His lips met my forehead as his fingers combed through my hair and he whispered false assurances into the steadily cooling twilight air.

“What’s going on Tuck, this isn’t like you? Mikey’s too afraid to ask, he doesn’t want to feel like he’s failed you.”

Those words alone made me feel like that lost, scared, lonely little boy so many years ago. The words, failure, idiot, waste, useless, they all came back. At such a young age they made me feel bad about myself—I’d learn later in life that I was horribly emotionally abused on top of the horrendous physical abuse I endured. All of that seemed to be surfacing now, in my teen years—I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.