unhealthy ryden

ready to go

After the whole incident with Jon, none of us made an effort to reach out or try to fix things with him. I was very heartbroken, since I considered Jon to be my best friend. But if he really started to hate me over time, then there's nothing I can do about it. I knew that I didn't do anything to provoke him or to make him hate me, so I just assumed it was his own problem. After the incident, Ryan, my friends and I all got together to talk shit about him. I felt bad, making fun of him and everything, but I just wanted to have a good time with everyone. As the weeks went by, I slowly began to forget about Jon, and just focused on my relationship with Ryan. 

It's now the end of August, and I'm home with my mom. My parents are divorced, so I live alone with my mom and two dogs, Penny and Bogart. I woke up one morning, grabbed my phone next to my bed and called Ryan. It rang for a few, but no answer. Strange. Ryan always picks up the phone in the morning. I call a few more times, but no answer. 

I start to panic. This isn't normal. Ryan always answers the phone. He could be dead for all I know. He could be stranded somewhere. Or worse, he could've killed himself. He would always say that to me, that he wanted to kill himself, but I never knew if he was just sad and saying it because he felt that way in the moment, or because he was genuinely suicidal. Like I said, you never know with him. 

I wait around the whole day for him. I called once every hour, waiting for a reply. Nothing. I start to freak out. I tell my mom,  but she tells me not to worry, and to not spam his phone with calls. She told me not to worry? How can I not? This isn't like Ryan, he is always around, and he always answers his phone. At least before his dad takes his phone at night. I try to distract myself by hanging out with my mom and playing with my dogs, but it didn't help much since I was convinced he was dead. 

Maybe his dad took his phone all day? Or maybe he was just plain dead? It was now the end of the day. I waited all day for him to respond, but I was out of luck. I almost couldn't fall asleep that night, but eventually I did. I was so worried to the point where I wanted to show up to his house, but I knew that would be over the top. I'm sure he's fine. But is he mad at me? Was he avoiding me all day? Was he tired of me already? The thoughts wouldn't leave my mind all night. 

I was woken up the next morning with a call coming from my phone.

It was Ryan. 

I quickly grabbed my phone and answered it as fast as I could.

"Ryan??!??!"

"Hey Bren, I'm so sorry."

"Ry? What the hell happened yesterday?? I thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry, I just needed a break from my phone."

A break? He needed a break from his phone? That's totally fine, if he needs a break, but why couldn't he tell me? I thought he was dead for god's sake. I took a deep, angry breath. 

"What?"

"Brendon I'm so sorry."

He didn't even sound genuine or disappointed. His tone was as if he didn't care. As if he was distracted, or doing something else while talking to me. It pissed me off. 

"Why couldn't you tell me Ryan?"

"I tried to pick up my phone, but I just couldn't."

What the fuck was this all about? I thought he was dead. I thought he had murdered himself but it was all because he couldn't pick up his phone. What 16 year old can't pick up their phone? There is no such thing. I started to get angry. 

"The fuck do you mean Ryan? I thought you fucking killed yourself or something. I wanted to fucking show up to your house. What the fuck do you mean you couldn't pick up your phone?"