Love and the Sea and Everything in Between

chapter twelve

I wait until after Intro to Philosophy and everyone is gone to talk to Garcia. I think he must've known somehow that I would want to talk to him because he doesn't start packing his stuff away as everyone leaves like he usually does.

"Mr. West," he says as I walk up to the podium, gripping the strap of my backpack as though it were a lifeline. "Have you considered my offer?"

I decide to skip the pleasantries get straight to the point. "I left because I can't stand to be around Jeremiah."

He cocks an eyebrow at me as if he expects more. So I explain, "I mean, I literally can't stand to be around him. My heart starts beating really fast and I get sick to my stomach and really anxious and a bunch of other stuff."

He takes a seat, but I stay standing. "You're seeing the school counselor, correct?"

I nod.

"What for?"

"Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and my own personal brand of PTSD," I mutter, leaving out the part about self-harm and suicidal tendencies.

"And is Jeremiah Jackson responsible for any of this?"

"So says Dr. Keller."

He furrows his brow and gestures for me to sit down. I obey. "I understand that Jeremiah was the upperclassman mentor you were assigned. What happened between you two?"

I can feel my stomach doing somersaults inside me as I try to recall everything that happened between us over the first semester. My mind drifts to the first time I opened up to him.

* * *

I hide myself in the shadows of the Admin Building, staring out at the path around the field. I can feel the familiar heat of the tears against my cheeks. I'm shivering, but not against the cold of night.

It's something else, something more, something deeper.

I can't control it. I can feel it like a knife in my gut, twisting and twisting, shredding my insides to pieces. I tuck my knees to my chest, as if somehow they might protect me from the outside.

I can't seem to remember what triggered me this time. All I remember is feeling a mix of rejection and loneliness and hurt and worthlessness. A vague, foggy memory comes to mind of me introducing myself to one of my classmates today, which happens to only be the second week of my first semester, and I remember feeling so so so awkward. And the look on their face when I stumbled across my words in a pathetic attempt at social interaction.

And I could feel my face turning red and I didn't know what to do so I just froze and they laughed. They laughed.

And I remember sitting alone through every class of my first two weeks so far, the only one with two empty seats beside him. And I remember being the last pick for an all-school team game of Steal-the-Bacon during the Welcome Week.

And I remember it all and it consumes me. But I can't remember if it's real or if it's all in my head. I try to make excuse for them, rationalize it all in my head, thinking that maybe I just misunderstood, but I know the truth. This is who I am. I'm the guy who stays in the back of the classroom that nobody talks to or sits beside. I'm the guy that gets lost in the crowd. I'm the guy that gets picked last for everything.

It's who I am.

And I don't even know why I am here anymore.

My roommate is in our room with a couple of his friends so I'm forced into the cold of night, hidden only by the shadows and the hedge.