Misguided Ghost (boyxboy)

Mad World

The next few days went by a blur. And, there hasn't been a single day Ralph was thinking about what went wrong.

After the Taylor Swift concert, he hasn't heard anything from John. Which was why he was frowning while sitting on his bed—thinking. Did he do something wrong?

It was more than weird. He didn't remember doing something bad to John—so much that he went ghost.

They were more than okay on the day of the concert. He thought it was going well, but it seemed he was wrong. Maybe he came on too strong, or maybe he was rushing it.

He scoffed to himself. If anything, he didn't feel it was rushed. So, what could have gone wrong?

This was all he did since earlier—think. It really bothered him to the point where he wanted to call John or ask him personally at the restaurant. But he pushed those thoughts to the very back of his mind. That didn't feel right.

One would think he was desperate.

And, that was a bad thing—at least to him and some people.

To think that this kind of thing would have happened at the time when he was finally starting to get used to the place. He started to feel he was part of the community, but then John went ghost.

He sighed from where he was lying down on his bed, feeling his head ache from thinking too much. Maybe that was it?

Maybe John was just busy at the moment and didn't have the time to text or call.

Or, maybe the world has it against him from being happy again?

He didn't comprehend it at all.

Did he not deserve to be happy?

Did he not deserve a fucking stable and happy relationship?

It was ridiculous. He never felt more ridiculed than he has now. He was close to believing that he wasn't the type to settle down and have a family—in general, he felt love wasn't right for him.

Maybe he was going to be that kind of friend—always single and not settling down, but happy. Where the fuck was the happiness though? It was late, and he didn't know when it was coming.

Lately, it has all been sadness for the most part, and it sucked.

"Fuck my life," he said to no one in particular as he frowned at the ceiling and hugged his pillow tightly. He turned his attention to his phone on the nightstand, lying there motionless with no new notifications. "Please, just once."

And as if the world heard him plead, his phone rang.

He jumped in surprise with wide eyes and an open mouth as he sat up from his bed. He cleared his throat, calmed himself down, before he picked up the phone and said, "hey, what's up?"

He facepalmed himself with his free hand. Seriously, that was the best he could come up with? "Hey, what's up?"

His dogs could have said anything better than what he said.

"I was wondering when you'd give me a call," he chuckled awkwardly as he waited for a response.

"I've been thinking about doing it everyday, Raffy,"

"Aw, that's really sweet—wait, you're not John,"

"No, I'm not,"

"You're Kyle,"

"Yeah, that's me," Kyle chuckled shortly from the other line. "Um, w-were you expecting someone else to call you?"

Yes.

"No, uh," Ralph paused as he thought of what to say. "J-just thought it was a friend."

"Am I not a friend?" Kyle said from the other line after a small silence. He almost sounded offended by what he just said.

Ralph was too astounded to answer that question, but he recovered from it quickly as he stuttered.

"Y-you are," More than that. "Just t-thought it was a friend I made from my travels, you know."

It was awkward after that.

Throughout the phone conversation, the awkwardness never left them. But it was also one of the happiest moments he had since he left. He felt happy talking to Kyle—nostalgic, even.

It was spontaneous. It also felt like nothing ever happened between them—just two old pals having a conversation and catching up. Of course, he wouldn't forget how things ended between them.

He missed Kyle—his voice, his touch, his everything. But none of those would ever happen again.

He missed his friends.

He missed his family.

And more importantly, he missed his dogs.

The world has its way of telling him what he needed to do. But he couldn't come back until he was sure—of himself, of everything about him. He wanted to find himself and answers to questions why's and how's.

He thought it was the best decision he ever made for himself, and he was going to stick with it.