I didn't believe it. He proposed his love to me. I liked him as my buddy but I wasn't gay. That was understandable right? I just didn't see him that way. I watched the fire, kinda hoping it would give me an answer. Something I couldn't grasp. Something, anything. Maybe I wanted to see what he had seen earlier in that moment where he just sat there and laughed like a madman. I didn't understand it. Why me? Why did my best friend have to be gay for me? I would've supported him if it was anyone else. Hell I didn't even know he was gay. My best goddamn gay friend. I always had poked fun at him for spending time with Miss Clarice, our school nurse and how he had spent time with her in horizontal position if you catch my drift. I just thought it to myself these days, like when he went to her office yesterday. He always said there was nothing going on and maybe that was the truth. I didn't fucking know he was like that.
And then I suddenly realized it. The thing he had laughed at. Despair. Insanity. Plain out madness. It wasn't special or anything. It was just existant and that was enough. Madness existing was enough for people to notice it. It was almost comedic. I grinned as it took me into its embrace. It was soothing almost. I wanted to take its hug and squeeze it in my arms when suddenly I heard a zip behind me, Patrick slowly stepping out the tent. I had turned around and just stared at him, his existence somehow pulling me back to my senses. He saw it fading in my eyes. I could see it from his facial expression. Worry for me became small joy in his. I could read him like a book even as I only slowly regained control over myself. He slowly walked up to me and said: "Can we go home?" "I just got up and replied with: "Pack your stuff."
And so we did it, packed away our tent, sleeping bags and our backpacks before throwing it all into the trunk of the car and getting in our seats again, me in the driver and him in the passenger. We just sat there, quietly, as I started the engine back up and drove us down the mountain in the warm, sorta orange-red sunset that was setting, illuminating the road ahead of us only slightly so I had to turn on the lights to make them out. It was sorta like that one Vine. "Two dudes chilling in the hot tub, 5 feet apart cause they're not gay." That's how distant I suddenly felt to him. It was something I had never felt before. I glanced over at him. He just stared at the road ahead of us, eyes deadset and staring down the now illuminated part of the road. "Patrick?" I wanted to see how he was doing. No response. Just that cold staring. It was sorta eerie but also just plain out weird, even coming from a kooky guy like him. "Patrick tell me if you're okay." My words were blurted out but still audible. He could have said something. Anything and I would've been fine with that but he said nothing. Not a single tone. I drove us back into town and he still didn't make a single sound. Not even his breathing sounded like it was there. I dropped him off at his house, driving the car back into our garage and going inside. Both my parents didn't say anything at me coming home a day early. I just went to my room and thought about all of what happened this day. I was exhausted in a way but not tired. I just didn't know what to think. He kissed me. He just kissed me. I took out my phone and looked at the time. 11:38 pm. I didn't pull it away yet as it snapped to a 9, my fingers slowly unlocking it as I began weakly typing. "Hey Patrick." Almost an immediate answer. "Hey." "Wanna pretend like today never happened?" I didn't know what else to say. After a few seconds there wasn't a respond. I stared at the screen. Minutes passed as I stared at the screen. That goddamn screen taunting me. I looked at it, my eyes tired but kept steady, waiting for an answer. Anything to sorta keep me away from these thoughts.
I wasn't gay. I wasn't enjoying that kiss. But I could tell he did. He did like it as if my lips gave away life. Like he needed it to survive. As if it was keeping him from becoming mad. A mad man in a sane world. I could've pushed him. I could've. I didn't though. I felt the passion behind the kiss. I felt all his sadness and anger fading. I felt him be at peace. I just let it happen. I cared for him, I really did. I could've pushed him. But I didn't. I just wanted him to be good. I wanted him to be alright. I wanted to, well, fix him. I wanted him to be at peace with his mind.
