Adrian (The Write Awards 2013)

19: Passive

**Sorry this is terrible. I've been feeling like shit lately.

We continue to sit at the small table in silence. I stop caring about the universe and only about Adrian. Darren's waiting for me to ask another question, I know it. But I don't want to. Because it seems that no matter what I say, Adrian will still be unreal. And even though I've known that all along, it still hurts worse every time. I feel the pain swell in my chest.

"How do you plan on getting to Jax?" I croak, trying to steer away from Adrian. I can't bear to think about him anymore.

But that's impossible. As Darren's mouth starts to run, I begin to lose focus. I'm not paying attention to him at all; I can't even hear what he's saying or even register if he's actually speaking. I'm just thinking about Adrian, and where he might be, and wondering if he's started thinking that inaction might be the right course to take afterall. I wonder if he's thought of just ending it like I tried to.

And in this moment I feel so terribly guilty for ever even thinking about something so utterly passive. I didn't even realize that this fact was eating away at me, but now I know.

Once, Adrian told me that he thought in the third person. I didn't know what to say; I didn't know what it meant. Now I know. And it's killing me. I feel so stupid.

I feel like this moment is passing by in a flash, like my own memories are slipping through my fingers as I sculpt them.

Because even if I could pause right now, even if I could stop everything, it would still feel completely ephemeral.

Third person.

On the count of three.

Adrian.

Not real.

This all connects in a way deeper way than I'm seeing. This is all so much more complex than I realize. I can't even begin to comprehend any of it. I'm trying to piece everything together in my mind, but Darren's penetrating my thought bubble with his constant repeating of my name. It's like he's a broken radio.

"Adrian," I finally hear Darren say. I've been hearing him this whole time, really. But it was like it wasn't me who was listening. Now, it's like I've just been pulled from underwater.

"Adrian," Darren says again.

It's just then I remember that Adrian isn't really my name. I remember that I sort of stole that name from my best friend. I'm afraid to discover why Darren is actually saying it over and over again.

At best, Adrian is here. Which really isn't a good thing in and of itself.

At worst, Adrian isn't here. He's somewhere he really can't afford to be.

It's like I'm leaning against a piano, finally getting comfortable, until I lose my balance and I crash against the keys. The vibrations of each resonating all at once and merging into an uncontrollable chaos until the sounds fade into oblivion, each at there own respective time.

Except I don't see how the keys are going to stop making a musical chaos anytime soon. It's like the notes just might ring into infinity and never come back again. Like the selective gravity is somehow effecting them, too, in an indirect way that changes everything.

Then more words are coming back, flooding my head, blending together and resonating like the notes of the piano. And I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going but everything feels unreal and I've suddenly forgotten where I am.

Darren's still saying Adrian's name and I'm still shocked, but I feel like I'm not here. Or there. Or anywhere.

Now I really feel passive, like there's nothing I can do and therefore I am a shell of a person. A terrible, incomplete person who doesn't even deserve to be a person.

Maybe it's better this way.

More voices. I want to bang my head against the table. I want to run away even though I'm not even here. I just want to go further and further and never come back. I don't have to worry about thoughts whispering in my mind or wondering about inaction. I don't have to worry about the universe. I don't have to do any of this.

Is that why I feel like I'm slipping away, like I'm not even here?

I'm afraid to turn around because I'm afraid that I'll see nothing. I know what it's like to look out into emptiness. I don't want to see that again. And yet, I'm also afraid that I'll see things that I don't want to see, that I don't need to see.

I can't hear what the voices are saying, but I can certainly tell that they're there. That's probably the strangest part. Stereotypical speaking, aren't these voices supposed to be the most prominent, clear thing that I can hear?

Too many questions. I feel like I'm getting sick and I don't even know what's going on.

"Cleo! Do you see him?"

It's Darren. No, I think. I don't see him. I realize now that I don't see anything. I don't even see black, just nothing. It's like I've gone blind. I'm only aware of my other senses. It's the oddest feeling in the world.

But I can still see. I'm staring at Darren, but I can't see him. This is the oddest feeling in the world. I can't even begin to describe him.

It's like I'm looking through him.