Drowning in a River of Denial (Jalex)

Tell Me How You Really Feel

Yo hello pls enjoy and ignore how crappy this is lmao.
Dedicated to Alltim3Addicted bc your comment made me all :))))

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Jack

My head was pounding when I woke up, my ears throbbed and my eyes stung. I'd barely gotten three hours of sleep. I'd realised that recently, going to sleep proved to be more of a task than it had ever been before. I didn't want to open my eyes, and I certainly didn't want to go to school. I felt sick and exhausted. I wanted to go back to sleep, and I couldn't push back the thought that told me I didn't ever want to wake up again.

There was a soft knock on the door and I opened my eyes, squinting, before it was pushed open gently. My Mum peered through the door and met my eyes, giving me a warm, motherly smile,

"Morning, bub," She spoke, and even her quiet tone seemed to make my head ache more.

"Morning," I croaked, feeling as though my throat had been scraped with sandpaper. She walked in, kicking some articles of clothing aside, and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Are you feeling okay, Jack?" She asked, worried, and leaned forward to place a hand over my sweaty forehead. Before her hand came in contact with my skin, I moved her arm slightly, and sat up.

"I'm fine, Mum. Just tired," And technically, I wasn't lying, because I really was tired.

"You sure?" A sympathetic look crossed her features and I gave her a weak, forced smile, nodding. "Okay, well breakfast is on the table,"

"Yeah. I'm going to get ready for school," She nodded and left the room, the door clicking quietly behind her. I could have almost fell back asleep whilst sitting up.

I reached over to my side table, grabbing my phone to check the time. As the screen lit up, burning my eyes, a text from Alex stood out. I frowned, confused, as it only said,

Alex:
Pansexual:Not limited in sexual choice with regard to biological sex, gender, or gender identity.

The message was sent in the early hours of the morning, and I wondered if he got any sleep. And then the message registered in my mind. Whether he stayed up late to help me out with my sexuality, or if he just happened to be up extremely late, I found it unbelievably kind of him to take away some of his time just for me.

And I thought about it for a moment, wondering, did this apply to me? Was I pansexual? It sure fit me the best, but I was still confused. I knew I didn't have to outright say, "Hello, I'm Jack Barakat and I'm pansexual," or anything of the likes, but if the day came where I was to come out as not completely straight, I'd say I was pansexual. And I would have to thank Alex when I saw him next.

I got off of my bed, feeling mildly better-well, I still felt like shit, but I also felt as though I was cared about. And I supposed that was enough to push me out of bed and get dressed and bother with my hair.

After throwing on a sweater and some jeans, I headed to the bathroom to fix my unruly, dark hair. But at that point, I doubted making my hair neat could even cover up how crappy I looked; dark circles pigmented the almost sickly pale skin beneath my eyes, and the bruise on the side of my face was now not only purple, but also a disgusting green. I never used to have this much trouble with my appearance, but I suppose lack of sleep can make you look ten times worse.

I sorted out my hair (somewhat, anyway) and made my way downstairs. A plate with a piece of toast with jam smeared over the top rested on the wooden surface, and my Mum gave me a smile as I sat down in front of it.

"Thanks," I gave her a thankful grin, despite my dislike for mass amounts of jam on toast. She just nodded, and I bit into the now soggy toast, trying to not scrunch my face up in disgust.