Supernovas & Escapism

Chapter Twenty-Three

      Garth is on my mind more and more these days. The thoughts that don't include him seem to swirl round my consciousness and either dissipate, or become nauseatingly too much to bear. But then, I can't say that my head wasn't this way before.

     Before him I was more lost than I am now. There's part of me that's still struggling to find pieces of myself, but now it doesn't feel so bad. Garth is my friend; the one person in the world who truly gets what it's like to be lost in your own head. I can tell sometimes that the weight he carries on his shoulders can be too intense to carry. But at the same time, I've never seen someone become so weightless around me.

     Truly he is like no one I've ever known. There's just something special about him and his resilience against the world. He doesn't fight it, and he doesn't run away from it; he takes it head-on, understanding that tomorrow could always be worse.

     And the more I think about this, the more tragic it becomes. Of course someone would be guarded if they were so used to taking shit day after day. He's not the selfish type to shy himself away from the world. There's always a statement behind everything he does. Everything he's done so far has been intentional, always with reason and without hesitation.

     This is the train of thought that leads me back to the kiss. That kiss. The aftermath of that kiss. Everything leading up to that kiss.

     Again, the single thought swarmed through my head, multiplying and growing into a hive of angry little regrets and thoughts that really led nowhere. But in the middle of it, there he stood.

     It's a little eye-opening to say the least, but it doesn't really change anything. At least that's what it feels like to me.

     He's hurting. I think maybe I hurt him. But then I can't think of how I managed that. The problem with enigmas is that you spend so much time investing yourself into the puzzle, that you never truly understand the person.

     So, I guess that's what I'm trying to do now. I'm sitting on the hood of my car, star-gazing, and trying to make sense of everything.

     A few weeks have passed since our playground fight. Not that it could be considered a fight—it felt more like a disagreement. Maybe it was selfish for me to pull back from him, but I needed too. Garth was so dizzying that even being around him made all the thoughts I had figured out completely fall apart at the seams. My head was already in a bad place before him; the last thing I need is for him to leave me in a worse state.

     I think I'm doing a bit better though. Faking smiles has become second nature again, but this time it doesn't feel so forced. Conversations between people I'd never think of talking to seemed to sprout from nowhere, near enough meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

     Sabrina seems happy too. I've never seen her smile so much as she has in the past two weeks. No matter how withdrawn or distant I appear, I think she's starting to get it.

     A breath leaves me and it's cold enough to trail out in this smoky wisp of air. Despite wearing the thinnest shirt, I can't really say that the bitterness of the night air is getting to me. Some old classic rock hit belts from the radio of the car.

     It's that one song by "Whitesnake." The one about going down the road alone, and embracing life as it comes with no one to rely upon but yourself.

     Reluctantly, I can see myself in the same situation. Garth might push everyone away from him, but I'm no better in what I do. Building walls so high that they prevent anyone from scaling over is the epitome of trying to handle things on your own.

     Before I have a chance to let these thoughts digest in my head, I begin to close my eyes, trying to block out the world from the madness inside my head. Nothing has been right for a long time. My relationship with my family has hit the skids; my girlfriend is dancing around me like she's walking on broken glass, fearing that I'll sink further back; the only person I have in the world to talk about this kind of stuff with won't even talk to me. It's all really fucked up.

     My phone rings for the fifth time in twenty minutes, and I glance down to see that it's dad. I close my eyes once again, and let the phone ring out. Right now I just can't deal with him.

     Just as the phone stops ringing though, I start to hear heavy footsteps. They are the footsteps of a broken individual; one trying to carry themselves over the finish line when it's inevitably clear that their body is broken. Part of me want's to crane my head back to see who it is, but I know better.

     Out of the few people who know about this space, there is only one who would actually come out of their way to be here.

     I snap my eyes open as the footsteps land a few feet away. My eyes scan the moonlit darkness until I find him.

     It doesn't take long to find his slumped shoulders and broken features. Blood is spouting from his nose, and his face looks like it has seen better days. I notice the slight limp, explaining the heavier than usual footsteps. The shirt he's wearing—which has a band I don't recognize on it—is part frayed, part torn. Even from his distance I can see the formation of bruises. It's not so much a wink at me, but the fact that he's struggling to open one of his eyes.

     Before I have the chance to ask what happened to him, he just rests his body against the hood of my car. We just rest where we are for a moment saying nothing.

     We say nothing because it's so much easier than saying something.

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a/n: hey guys, so this is probably long overdue, but here's the next chapter.

i apologize for not posting more frequently. real life get's in the way of things sometimes i suppose. because i've not written this story in a while, i'll admit that this chapter is weaker compared to others, but that's just to get back in the flow of writing with these guys again.

anyway, hope you like the chapter. will see you guys next one.