butterflies // stenbrough

~ Stan ~

"The campers are d-done arts and c-c-crafts in nine minutes. I'm g-g-going to go down there." Bill told Stan "Beverly's running it and I d-d-don't want her to kill me for b-being late."
"Sounds good." Stan said.
"Great." Bill said awkwardly before he left.
That was probably the most they'd spoken since capture the flag, over two days ago. Stan knew that they obviously needed to talk about it, but Bill wasn't exactly running to start the conversation and Stan had no idea what to say.
"Hey Bill, wanna talk about how we sorta held hands a few days ago?"
"No, kill yourself ur gay lol"
He's not going to say that Stan chided his mind for such a stupid scenario. Stan hated his mind right now. He thought that he was over this, he knew he was queer years ago. Thirteen year old Stanley was the one who had to come to terms with this, seventeen year old Stanley should be fine. He hated how ashamed he felt. Internalized homophobia was thirteen year old Stanley's problem. What was the point of going through all that at thirteen, if he just had to go through it again at seventeen? He thought he was okay with liking boys, he was okay with being queer. It was the rest of the town that wasn't okay, Stanley was fine. Yes, he was willing to be closeted and compromise for the town but that doesn't affect him! At least he thought that, he wasn't so sure anymore. The problem with compromising for other people is you end up compromising for yourself. The town isn't okay with queerness, he accepts that's just what the town is. But by doing so, he allowed a little part of himself to feel not okay with it. No matter how much older he gets, no matter how much work he does on accepting himself, if he cannot get out of Derry than he will keep compromising until that little part consumes him. It almost consumed thirteen year old Stanley and seventeen year old Stanley is on the verge.
    Stanley pulled at his sleeve, he was alone so he allowed the soft fabric to slide up and expose his arm. He traced his fingers across the faded white lines. Each representing a crush thirteen year old Stanley could not understand.
    The line closest to his hand- Todd Naron, Stanley's old lab partner. Stanley always let Todd copy his notes. He had the most charming laugh Stanley ever heard.
    The line right beside a vein- Kevin Bering, he used to work at the movie theatre. He always put extra butter on Stanley's popcorn.
    The longest line- Arya Weist. He was dealing with liking guys, all of a sudden he liked a girl. He just couldn't understand how he liked both.
    His brain screamed to add Bill to the list. He seriously contemplated it. What was the problem with adding another line? Whether he added new ones or not, those fucking lines were going to be there forever. The consequences were going to be on his arm forever.
    No His voice of reason chided him You're better than this.
    He hesitantly put his sweater down and took a seat on some campers bed.
    "Wuh-Wuh-Welcome back campers!" Bill came through the door, bringing eight prepubescent boys with him.
    While the campers ran off to their bunks, Bill walked over to Stan.
"Hey, are y-y-ou okay?" He asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine."

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If you or someone you know is struggling with self harm, please do not hesitate to text the link below or reach out to other people/resources. You are important and deserve help when you need it.

https://www.crisistextline.org/topics/self-harm/#what-is-self-harm-1