Seeing You - Boys of Tommen

Like A Fool

August 27th, 2005

Hugh:

I couldn't sleep. Katie was breathing slowly nestled in between my chest and arms, but I was restless. Seeing that Lizzie was in attendance to our camping excursion had set me on edge, I had been bracing all night, for the unavoidable blow up. But it never came, and it felt odd, like I was missing something. 

Maybe, even if I hated all the fighting and screaming and drama, I clung to it. The same way I still clung to Lizzie Young. 

No matter how much I didn't want to, how much I loved Katie, and how much of an asshole I felt like for reserving so much space in my brain for my first love. I clung to Lizzie. She was an intrinsic part of me, that went far beyond my understanding. 

Deciding, I should leave Katie to rest, I got out of my tent and walked over to the now burnt out campfire. There was empty bottles of liquor littering the sand, and discarded dishes and cutlery. Evidence of us having been here, a mark we've left. Even though, we'll have cleaned it all by the morning, I couldn't help but admire the small indent we had made. 

I felt often, that my existence was pointless, I knew it was stupid and I was a melodramatic eejit, but it was the truth. I had spent the last two months brooding in my room, clinging to the familiarity of my four walls, the navy blue paint that I picked out on my fifth birthday, the rugby ball shaped lamp that Claire got me for my ninth birthday, the letters tucked away in a box that I had written to Lizzie but never sent, and all of the evidence that I was alive, that I had lived. 

I gripped the edge of the backs of one of the folding chairs and attempted to ground myself.

"Can't sleep?" A sharp voice, startles me.

"Ummm...yeah, I guess." I reply to the girl, who has haunted me since I could remember.

"How's Katie doing?" She asks.

"Don't" I snap.

"I was just asking, Hugh" Lizzie looks offended and I feel like an asshole, "after she, you know..."

"Yeah, she's good."

"What was wrong? Is she anorexic or something?" Liz asked tentatively.

"What? No, she was just sick."

She looks down, picking at the sleeves of her hoodie, "why did Feely ask her about eating then?"

"I...." I don't really have an answer to that, I hope that he was just jumping to conclusions, because I can't deal with anything else right now, and Katie wouldn't do that to herself, she's too smart. I know she can be insecure about the way she looks, which is completely unwarranted but she would never go that far.

"Maybe you should be paying more attention then."

"A few months ago you were yelling at me for giving all my attention to her and not you." I say annoyed, "What is that you want?"

"Hugh..."

"Huh, Lizzie? Finally out of words to spew at us." I say feeling irrationally angry, and only she could evoke this emotion in me. Gibsie drove me crazy with all of his bullshit and love for my baby sister, but I was never mad at him, the way I felt towards Liz. There was passion behind the hate I had for Lizzie Young.

"I don't know what I want. Okay?" She says quickly, "I'm trying."

"Really?" I ask, not believing her, even though I want so badly too.

"I didn't even sit with you guys tonight, so I wouldn't start anything."

"You seemed all too happy to start something with me at the pool." I accuse.

"You ambushed me, and it wasn't even you, it was Claire. She was worried and sent you, couldn't even come herself."

After years of not harming herself, Lizzie had been cutting again. Claire had noticed a substantial cut on her thigh, and it looked similar to the scars that peppered her forearms. But, it was larger and deeper than the others, and it fucking terrified me. 

Claire sent me to talk to her about it, but what could I do? I had been here with her time and time again, since we were both in bloody primary school, I had been trying and failing to help her. 

Isn't the definition of insanity doing something again and again and expecting a different outcome?

I would call me insane, because like a fool I thought she might open to me. Like a fool I thought she might finally ask for help. Like a fool I thought she might actually realize what she was doing to herself, and that she had to stop.

"Can you blame her?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"We're all bloody scared of you." I regret the words as soon as I say them. 

She rears back like she's been shot, "is that how you feel? Scared?"

"No...I'm not scared of you, I'm scared for you." I say, "And so is Claire and Shan and everyone else."

"Don't waste your precious time, on worrying about me." She snapped, and looked at me so intensely, I thought I might wither away under her gaze. 

"I'll always worry about you." I say, without thinking, and I didn't need to think about it. I was programmed to worry about her, to make sure she was sleeping, and eating, to keep her safe, to make sure that she wasn't going too deep inside her mind. I was programmed to be the light that helped her find her way home, even when she didn't want it. 

"Well, don't." Lizzie said definitively, and storms off in the direction to her and Pierce's tent.

I wandered around feeling lost, allowing my feet to sink into the sand, and try to bring myself back down to where I should be. 

To become Hugh, the protective big brother, the good friend, the good boyfriend, and the person who avoids Lizzie Young.

After a while, I returned to my tent and observe Katie's sleeping form, except she's not sleeping. She had her eyes closed, and was breathing steadily but I could tell she was pretending, and I could feel the pit in my stomach deepen. 

Liz and I had been way too far away for her to hear anything, but she knew I had left. I thought about saying something to her, but what would I say? Would I lie to her? Would I pretend I hadn't been talking with Liz?

I decided on just getting into our sleeping bag, and draping my arm around her small frame, my eyes locking on the small tear that fell from one of her eyes. 

She wasn't like Liz, she didn't sob and scream when she was upset, she was quiet, suffered in silence. And I didn't know what to do about that.

I knew how to help someone who screamed and deflected and was coated in their sadness and anger. Who walked around in unbearable pain, who was incapable of internalizing it.

I knew how to help Lizzie Young, but I was clueless when it came to Katie Wilmot.

Thanks for reading!  - H <3