But To Live Does Not Mean You're Alive (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Nine

Half of the week carried on like a blur. Everything was the same. I wake up, go to school, avoid bullies the hardest effort being exerted, go to work, and go home to a house with me the only breathing thing in it. I wish for Dad’s fast recovery. I sure can’t live without him. No matter how he seemingly tries to kill me at times.

I don’t blame him. I think he’s blameless. I put all my blame to the alcohols. Not to mention, the primary culprit of all of these. Cancer. The horrible illness that ruthlessly sent my loving Mom six feet underground.

Speaking of Dad, the last time I made my way to his confines in the hospital, Dr. Coleman gladly informed me about Dad’s release. It turned out that I would not have to wait for so long, just a couple of days more. Probably it would fall on a Friday or weekend. Whatever that day would be, I’d be ready. I plan on putting up a dinner with all his favourites in it. It’ll be simple but special.

He will love it. But for now, I can only hope.

I got out from my thoughts, the place where I hang out frequently. Sometimes, it actually scares me how I can manage to be detached from reality for a while. I wonder if everyone does it. Or maybe it's just me.

I’m sitting on my last period class for the day. I tried my hardest to keep myself on track with the discussion. But sadly, I lost my way and found myself drowning in the never ending sea of thoughts. I carefully looked around the class, not wanting anyone to see me looking around. I might scare them up. I’m hated and labelled enough.

History has never been among my favourites, needless to remind myself that I should pay greater attention. And that’s what I usually do. No subject should be so hard or boring for someone whose chances of going to college appears vague. As a proof, my lack of interest in the subject can never be hinted on my marks. I make sure of it.

After what seemed to be years, the bell has done its work of salvation. Eventually, everybody has become driven by excitement and happiness. In no time, school’s exit would become the most liked hot spot.

The class has gone impressively active; students are starting to depart from their seats heading to a particular direction. The classroom’s only door has been clogged. The desired fast exit is slightly challenged by the lack of organization and consideration as everybody thinks for nobody’s sakes.

I remain on my seat, not wanting to get involved in the chaos. Having nothing to do but wait, I sighed.

Then Miguel pops out in my mind. What has been happening to me? I don’t feel like this is normal anymore. Am I beginning to admire Miguel? Maybe yes. I won’t deny. But I don’t want to get hurt again. I can’t keep him as a friend or say acquaintance if I feel this way. That won’t work.

We have been talking more often. It sounds fantastic how things can actually change in a blink. I mean, it feels like it was just yesterday when I would cower if I see him. But now, it’s the other way around. Seeing him sporting a smile sends silly and funny feelings that directly affect my heart and gut. I am not six years old anymore to pretend that I don’t know these feelings. I know exactly what they are. I am just not sure if I should keep allowing myself feeling them.