Stitches ~ Scömìche

Tripping Over Myself

Being happy would be easy, if Mitch wasn't so sad. Scott could see it. Scott could see it all. But Scott didn't know what to say, and so he watched his best friend, and lover, who had sacrificed so much for him, worsen. 

Scott found the bloody toilet paper that was supposed to be hidden at the bottom of the garbage. But Scott saw and found them all. He just didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to say it. While Mitch was fighting a battle for life, Scott watched on, bound by silence. Something he knew he would learn to regret. He blamed Abe. Abe was easier to blame than himself. Scott knew he should do something, but he didn't and so he blamed Abe for Mitch's unhappiness and not himself. Silence says so much... and Mitch was getting the message. That Scott wasn't noticing... or didn't care enough to try. And so Mitch continued fighting a battle, the odds five-thousand to one. A battle he was destined to lose. A battle Mitch wasn't sure he wanted to win. And Scott was watching on... with six-thousand soldiers that he was holding back. 

Scott could help Mitch win this battle. But Scott held silence and watch Mitch fight alone. Fight a losing battle, that Scott could believed he could win alone. He couldn't win it alone. He wouldn't. With nothing to keep him fighting, he simply wouldn't. Scott watched the struggle, never dreaming that Mitch would ever tire of fighting. But Mitch was tiring. Mitch was tiring fast, and still Scott watched on. Having more faith in what Mitch could do alone than what was true. Mitch needed help! Something Scott blinded himself from seeing. If perhaps he opened his eyes and saw the damage that was being done to Mitch, then he would finally step in and wrap Mitch in his embrace and protect him from every single harsh word he was telling himself. 

Perhaps if Scott stepped in he would have been able to stop the inevitable. But, afterall... Sucicial people... are just angels trying to get home.