Velvet Horns » Royce

[4]

Do you sometimes get the feeling you're not doing enough for your people ..like you're here , living when so many are dying, and have a purpose but haven't completed it, don't know what it is or even where to start to figure it out? Seems like I'm always concerned about or prioritizing things that don't really matter. Many people are doing the same. We are losing the sense of what matters. Yes, a lot matters but YOU can't put some things in front of others or look at it collectively equal if it's not treated that way,if WE are not treated that way, and if WE as black people don't get to. Your body desires with wants and needs, but you can't give more attention to wants over the needs. You also can't say you need water just as much as you want a new car. They don't require the same delicate attention. This might be a far stretch but do you see the comparison by any chance? Sorry, but this crazy world we live in is having a ball game with OUR lives and some of US are just sitting on the sidelines watching. I don't want to be there. I want to end the game. But in a good way. Then again, is it possible ?

Not without God of course. I find some peace in the fact that at least he has US.

Idk, just loose thoughts..Carry on! Hope you like this.

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Plopping down onto his baby blue comforter , Chresanto took out his phone checking for a text from Jacob . He'd waited a good amount of time not to seem too desperate.

But desperation for what seems like a road to happiness is okay, right?

He decided to distract himself with some fanfiction. He was currently enthralled by a book titled Candles on Air, a Larry fanfic about two boys - Louis and Harry - and unrequited love during Christmas , on a site called Archive of Our Own.

So far , it was brilliant and he hated having to stop to shower,eat, go to school, etc.
Chresanto unwrapped himself from his cacoon of an alternate universe when feeling a feisty buzz underneath his fingers. Fifteen minutes had zoomed by and he pulled down the notification bar telling him that he had a text from an unknown ID.

Jacob was his first thought.

He tapped the message, opening with big eyes of hope and an anxious lump in his throat, but it all went crashing once he read the hateful message.

You were clearly a f*ck up from the beginning. Ur one of God's rejects and you don't belong here

The lump in his throat dug deeper, down into his chest as if hiding. He wished he could hide.

As tear after tear spout from his eyes, he thought he should have been use to this by now. It's happened a couple times throughout the last few years. He'd made sure to keep it from his mom , of course. No sense in worrying her further . She was always prepared to bring in his therapist, and most times he declined. Except once when he was feeling so awful and couldn't see the light, wanting to end it all. At least he could control that one thing, while his happiness he could not.

Chresanto had been the cause of tears and believes he was nothing but a burden when it came to his life. His peers would obviously be refreshed without him or lack a sense of care if he left and it would definitely be a weight off his parents' shoulders. At least he thought so. However, the latter would be entirely the opposite. His mom strived for his happiness, and knew some of his struggles. She also knew he was hiding much of his pain from her. Feeling like a helpless parent was horrible and if she lost him to something she could have aided in..or maybe not.. the devastation would be like an elephant crushing what would be left of her heart. Chresanto would take a major portion with him.

Sniffling and frustratingly rubbing off his tears-his face was probably red and his eyes swollen,after half an hour crying-he heard the buzz of his phone.

He ignored, already too tired emotionally to deal with whoever was on the other end of another text.

So it sat where it'd fell abruptly thirty minutes ago, during his emotional fit, under his bed, just peeking out not wanting to be in the way. Similar to how a wounded Chresanto went about his everyday life.

The unknown ID flashed across sporting Jacob Perez's number just below, and at the moment he was the only soul reaching a hand to pull Chresanto from his bashful nature and attempt to mend his heart in a way a mother could not.
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🌟 So I noticed I had this weird thing going with the numbers.like why didn't I have Jacob give Chresanto his number instead? Lol. I'm funny.

Alright , is this sad? Just curious? Please respond lol

Thanks for reading and I hope you're enjoying it!

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