closer to happiness than i've ever been

bored

hey yall i thought id post a chapter from mike's pov. this book has just been me playing with symbolism and figurative language and themes and such so im sorry that it really doesn't have much plot. so yeah enjoy.

september 3rd, 1989
10:37 pm

mike's pov

my ceiling is dull as ever; the white popcorn texture reaches down like stalagtites, taunting my loss. they fall closer to me, almost as if its spiney surface was about to make contact with my face. soon, i would be crushed with a million tacky stalagtites penetrating my skin. i reach out my hands, as if to stop my falling ceiling, although, all i catch is a reminder of him in the form of hot pink varnish.

my fingers brushed it, that intangible sensation of heaven resting in my head. it came in the form of him. i can still feel his skin on mine, however the sensation of his lips on mine has since faded. i press the palm of my hand against my mouth in his absence. it's not the same. i need him here with me.

i'm out of tears to cry, i am only filled with yearning, regret, and something numb. i roll onto my stomach, wrapping my arms around my pillow. i hide my face in the soft fabric, noting how it made it harder to breathe. i press the my face into the pillow, my airways struggling to be filled with oxygen as i press and press and press. my head feels light and my lungs feel like heavy sacks in my chest as i cut off air. i could kill myself like this

something posesses me to allow myself air, rolling onto my back once more. the air feels dense reaching my lungs as it curses me for being so pathetic. will wouldn't do this, he'd cry if he ever even found out i had thought about it. i hate making him cry, seeing his pretty face contort into heartbreak. plus, if i had killed myself, i would never see how his heartbreak would present, although, i don't intend on telling him his absence paired with my father's reaction was grounds for a foolish suicide.

my dad came in earlier, trying to talk to me about what transpired between me and will. he did so in self-affirmation, as a final prayer to a god he hardly worships. he told me he was worried about me, that i might fall into the same dangerous lifestyle as will. he told me that i wasn't weak like will, that he has a lot of trauma so people like him are more susceptible to becoming homosexuals. i told him to get the fuck out of my room. his words still rang in my ears ,"you're on your own, kid."

he left a bible at the corner of my bed, the same corner will sat on as i kissed him a couple nights ago. i notice it, still laying at the same corner of my bed, still opened to the same page. i kick it onto the floor. will's backpack breaks its fall. the contents spill all over the floor of my room. i sit up on my bed, scanning the mess, the lights were off so i couldn't see all that well. from what i could see, the clothing inside was still folded, just tipped over. i chuckle to myself, reminded of how he dressed in my clothing, even after bringing his own.

i crouch on the ground next to the bag, picking up the folded cotton shirt. it unfolds as i lift it, a thick joint, a lighter, a pack of cigarettes and a cassette fall from in between the folds. i examine the cassette, the same one he played the morning after we started dating.

in my other hand, i pick up the joint. i assume it was an extra, just in case we got caught. it looks a little different than the ones will and i smoked together. i remember the feeling of being high, the feeling of delirious joy and mischievous fun, just what i need right now. i take the cassette, lighter, and joint back to my bed. i'm too lazy to go back to the attic where will and i smoked last night, so i crack the widow next to my bed open.

i locate my walkman on my bedside table, placing the mixtape inside. the headphones fit over my ears as i skip past the first two tracks as i was anxious to see what else my boyfriend wanted me to hear. i light the joint as the song begins. a dreamy acoustic riff plays before being followed by an electric one. the track reminds me of will: of his artistic mind and his unique beauty. i find myself wanting to claim it, to keep it to myself so nobody except me and will and listen to it, but that's a ridiculous thought. obviously, nobody can claim a song- much as i want to. yet again, i'm happy nobody can. if not me, somebody else would have claimed this song as their own, i have little doubt.