Thanatophobia (Manthony)

Chapter 6

     The word "weak" was never a word anyone used to describe me. Any emotional breakdowns I had were usually in private, and I liked it that way.

Even as a child, I did my best to keep myself together. 

When my best friend, James, died, I didn't cry. It wasn't because I was a budding sociopath or because I didn't care. I cared deeply, but I couldn't cry when I was by myself, let alone in front of others.

 I held it together, unlike Jordan and Xavier. I didn't judge them, but I remember wishing I could show my emotions in the same way that they were.

     I stood beside them as our friend's body was put into the ground and James's parents read the eulogy they had written for their son. We were only eight at the time, but the pain was enormous. My heart had been broken into two, but no matter what anyone said or did, I couldn't bring myself to shed a tear. 

Parents, friends, and teachers would express their condolences, but all I could do was stare off into space, nod my head, and thank them for their kind words.

My mum eventually had me see a therapist because she was worried I wasn't going through the grieving process "properly". 

The thing was, there is no such thing as dealing with grief in a certain way. It's different for everyone. My therapist at the time assured me of this.

 I was young, but James' passing was the first time I realized that people didn't live forever. I realized that, eventually, everyone I loved or cared about would pass away.

     My 'not crying in front of anyone' streak lasted until I was seventeen. Christian and I had been dating off and on for a while, but he broke up with me a week before my birthday. 

I had gained the courage to tell him I was in love with him, but he didn't say anything back. He simply told me he wasn't sure if he loved me back. A day later, he told me that he was starting to like one of the girls in our class, and I began to cry.

 At the time, I blamed myself because I thought I had done something wrong. It wasn't until I was almost nineteen that I realized I hadn't. I couldn't control his feelings, no matter how much I wanted to. 

I wasn't angry at Christian. I accepted what had happened and moved on, but my heart didn't.

 Christian and I went on like normal with no further conversation about what happened between us. He attempted to get with the girl he confessed that he liked, but nothing ever came of it. 

Secretly, I was happy nothing did, but I could tell he was bummed out about it. Part of me felt sorry for him, but the other part of me was wondering if the rejection meant we could get back together. 

We didn't. Not for a long time. 

We started our band and forgot about our relationship for a while. We started dating again when I, in a very high state of mind, kissed Christian on stage during one of our concerts. 

Our fans were shocked, but they enjoyed it.

Obviously, we did too. 

After a few weeks, Christian and I were caught holding hands by the paparazzi, and there was no going back with our relationship. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Christian from breaking up with me four more times.

*****

     "Has Clinton spoken to you?" Jordan asks as I scroll through Instagram on my phone. "No, but I don't want him to." I reply dryly. 

Xavier sighs, and I look over at him. "What?" He shrugs, placing his phone down on the table.

"You guys are gonna have to settle this if you wanna get along." Xavier gets up from the couch and raises his arms to stretch. "I know, I just don't know what to say." I admit defensively.