Lennon

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen – Queen of Disaster

 

                 “You seriously have an addiction, Jude.”

                “I do not,” he pouts, as he throws a pillow from beside him at my head.  He narrowly misses ripping off my skull only because I duck down at the very last second. The crown of my hair feels off, almost like that last year when I was curious as to what my hair would look like if I were to tease my hair.  To say the least, it didn't put me on the cover of Covergirl. The pillow goes soaring through the air, landing with a muffled thump on the titles in the kitchen.

                He clearly doesn't handle facing his problems all that well.

                The boy acts like I told him an offensive Yo Mamma joke, which happened once before, but we don’t talk about three AM conversations like that. All I told Jude is that he has an addiction to reality television, which is completely true. Since making him watch that one episode of the Kardashians, he won’t stop watching all of the shows that are the least bit similar to it.

                It’s gotten so bad that I've considered putting him into reality TV show rehab.

                “I don’t have any sort of problem. You need to take your scrawny judgmental ass and shut up because Kesha is talking about her lady parts being haunted. Her words are obvious way more important than yours, so.”   

                I roll my eyes, but decide not to tease him anymore. The slightly trashy pop star continues to talk on the screen, but I’m not listening to a word. I've been telling myself all morning that I would grow some balls and tell Jude the truth about my past like I vowed to do. It’s been two hours and I still haven’t gathered enough courage – I’m starting to doubt that I’ll ever tell him.

                I don’t know what I’m so scared about. Jude is my best friend and obviously cares for me, so it’s not like he’ll kick me to the curb if he knows how messed up I am. He isn't exactly completely intact himself, so he wouldn't have any room to talk. He always seems to understand what I say, no matter how profound they sound to me in the middle of the night. Jude’s always there for me, so it’s okay to let some of the walls surrounding my heart down.

                He understands that by telling each other our tales of misery, we aren't expecting to magically be better. Love, which this isn't between us, doesn't heal the scars. I won’t make any of his guilt hurt less, as that’s something someone has to get better with by themselves. Healing comes from within what we are, not the people that tell you it all gets better.

                It just feels better when someone is there to hold your hand when you feel like you can’t breathe.

                “Jude, I need to tell you something kinda important,” I quickly whip out before I can second guess myself yet again. The best way to just get over the things you fear is to rip that band aid right off., right? Sure it stings, but once this is all over, everything will be fine again. Hopefully.

                “You’re lucky that it’s a commercial or I would have to mute you instead.” He takes the remote to the television in his hand, pointing it at my face. If I wasn't so in need to tell him my story, I would roll my eyes at how stupid he is. I’m too anxious for his tricks right now, so I glare slightly at him with a look that clearly shows that my heart isn't it in.

                “I’m being seriously here, Jude. I need to get something off of my chest before I chicken out. If you could just mute the TV for a few minutes, I’d appreciate it.” Sensing the urgency in my voice, he does exactly what I said. “Thank you, Jude; it won’t take that long, so you won’t miss too much of her beautiful and crazy life.”