Finding Patch

(This is a short story, I really don't know how long it will be. It's fast pace.)

The doctor had advised him to write down his feelings, thoughts, actions and think about why he did each thing or felt what he felt. Expressing himself was not as easy as what he wanted it to be. A part of him thought maybe this could work out. The rest of him was willing to throw the notebook away. With each fail attempt, he grew slightly frustrated. Only that emotion would end before it truly began.

Each time the doctor would try to diagnose him; they would come up with something different. Only a few agreed that it was a form of bi-polar. Yet, he had completely shut down. No emotion ran through his system at all. Each emotion only stayed for a short time. Then he would mark it up as a memory.

Memories kept piling inside of him with no explanation why he could not feel the emotions of the memories. Days would go by without a new emotion emerging in him. A hollow shell kept the lost soul from truly leaking out.

His parents supported him throughout everything. The multiple doctors, psychoanalyst, him trying to express himself. Good loving parents they are. Trying the best that they could with the means, they had. Do anything to help their son. His father had a ‘talk about everything’ attitude. His mother held shoulders made of cotton and steel for the family.

In the past, he was not always like this. As a little boy, he was outgoing and carefree. Once upon a time, he enjoyed playing over at his friends’ homes with them. When he went to the sports games with his father and a few friends, he was the first one to be excited. Laughed and smiled even at the dumb things in life. Use to sneak candy when his mother was not looking. Played video games with his friends or alone. He would laugh at the stupid jokes that his best friend would always tell him. Then one day it gradually started to go away. Little by little all the emotion began to drain from him. Each time a new event would happen, he would not react towards it.

Some wanted to label him as an unemotional monster. One therapist had suggested that his parents have him committed into a mental ward. Aghast at the very thought of committed their son to a mental hospital; all treatments stopped soon as they walked away from the therapist.

The dreaded question came from his father one day, ‘Are you thinking about suicide?’

Life does get to him in the moments of the event. Once the event is over all the emotion becomes a memory. Memories filed away for safekeeping in the back of his mind for later use. When he needs to use a memory of how something should feel or what use to make him happy. He would pull up the memory and go off what he sees.

School really did not bother him; the teachers did not even bother him. Student did not bully him nor did he bully any of the other students. There was a silent understanding between the student body and him. Leave him alone and he will leave you alone. A simple concept that occasionally needed to be summon up. A student would become brave in challenging him with words or actions. There was one acceptation to the rule, his best friend Tommy. No rules applied to him.

The knucklehead best friend from childhood still held the position. Tommy could show their peers a thing or two when it came to loyalty to a friend. No matter what, Tommy had his back through everything in life. Being his best friend since they were little he had learned that Tommy was a person who grabbed life by the horns. Played dirty and road it hard. Knew where all the good parties were and who how to talk any girl into the bedroom. The next morning knew how to get her out of the bedroom before she thought she was the new girlfriend.

Tommy was the classic party man and player with morals and loyalty leaking out of his pours. When his life began to fall downhill, he was half expecting Tommy to hit the road. Instead, the man stayed true to the best friend name. Had his back through all the mess the doctors did and his own mind or body was doing.