A Walk Through Hell (Boyxboy)

Chapter 27- Gotta Let It Happen

"You did that? Last night?" I looked up. I nodded, as another fat tear escaped my eye. I wiped it away ferociously. My face stung whenever I cried because I had scratched it last night. It wasn't that bad, not that much blood. I had fallen asleep on the ground and I was sore and I left a little blood on the tile. They had talked about giving me solitary with a straight jacket.

"Yeah," The man frowned deeply. "Really?" I nodded. "Why?" I had to think. "My sweatshirt." I whispered. He raised his eye brows. "It was Shane's and...I...I just needed it. To sleep. Just because. I needed it and I couldn't keep it."

"Why do you want to keep it?" I shrugged. "Just in case." He frowned. "In case of what?" Another tear fell. I let out a whimper and buried my face in a throw pillow on the couch. "In case he wants me back. I want him back so badly I'd do anything. I'd fucking do anything for him. I miss him and I want him and that sweatshirt is the closest thing I have to him. I love him so fucking much. I love him, I love him, I love him." I could hear my own ugly cry above everything. I just couldn't stop talking for the life of me. It was like I held so much in I couldn't contain anything anymore.

"I feel like he was the only thing pushing me forward. I'm fucking stuck in this nightmare now. I want to be a better person. I want to become more than this. But I can't without him."

"Hey kid, look. If you want change, you'll get it. I know it hurts to feel something like this, but maybe that's because you're afraid of this feeling. You're afraid to hurt and you don't want to be alone. You need to let things happen. Let it happen. Let yourself heal. That's the thing about depression. You get normal feelings, they just seem ten times worse. I went through a breakup just recently. We were together for five years. I got over it in three days. You...because of your depression are having a hard time even processing that. You are single now. You're still in love, but its over. And he won't be coming back."

"But he told me he loves me," I whined desperately. "And I bet he does. But sometimes love is not enough." I frowned. "Enough for what? If we love each other then we should be together. Its fucking simple." He sighed. "No. I'm afraid it isn't. Life gets in the way, emotions get in the way, past mistakes, time. It all gets in the way and soon you have two people who love each other who lead different lives and until they fit into each others lives, they aren't together."

"So you're telling me I'll always love him, but I won't ever have him?" The therapist was about to say something else, but I didn't let him. "That's bullshit! He's mine. He's been mine since the day I met him. We have nothing better to do than be together, I'm just an idiot and he's just coming to his senses."

"Coming to his senses?" I nodded "I'm not worth the effort. I make him smile. Just a little. I make him happy, almost never. The only thing I had to offer was a good fuck."

"Don't say that," he mumbled disapprovingly. "Say what? I have enough flaws to pinpoint the places I excel, and that happens to be in bed."

"I'm sure you're good at a lot of stuff, Zander. Stop degrading yourself." I sat back and let out a frustrated breath. "Yeah. At fucking up." I mumbled.

***

"Guess what came in the mail today?" Max said. I was too busy eating the burger he picked up for me. They food here was gross and I knew this was fattening but it was better that anything anyone else had to offer at the moment. "An acceptance letter. From the state of Illinois." He was excited. I smiled. "Yay," I muttered. "You're the first of us to get into a university."

It had been a week since I got here. I was at my wits end. Boredom and utter sadness were my two prized emotions. Followed by hunger, yes, it had become an emotion, and disgust. I was stuck in that tiny room with Fred, the star nose picker. That's all he knew how to do. He couldn't feed himself, wash himself, go to the bathroom. One of the other inmates (what I resorted to calling the lot of us,) told me he had tried offing himself in a way I was cringing at. Shooting himself in the head. He'd been bullied, and he was sick of it, so I guess he got a bright idea to steal a gun. Too bad he had terrible aim and took off some pretty important brain tissue. He was quite literally brain dead. He disgusted me. How could one have so many boogers?

"You want to read it?" He asked. I took the paper from him and read it. "I was thinking I'd frame it. Hang it in the house." I snorted. "Why so I could not see it?" He took it back from me. "No. So I can see it." I felt a pang of guilt. He was proud of me and I was being an ass. "That would be cool, you know. If you hung it." I took another bite awkwardly. "Have you heard from Shane?" I asked. He shook his head. "No. I'm sorry." I shrugged, even though I felt like dying on the inside.

"Are they nice here?" He asked. I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, they didn't let me keep the sweatshirt but I guess." Max rolled his eyes. "I bet their washing it for the first time in months. Lord knows it needs it." I laughed with him, but then said, "I hope not. It smells like him." Max patted my shoulder. "We miss you at home." It felt incredibly good to hear that. That they missed me. They thought about me and missed me. What if Shane missed me too? My heart sped up just thinking about that.

"I miss you guys too. How come Lizzie isn't here?"

"AP tests all day. And she's taking another important test. Taking an advanced college math class next year."

"Oh." I said, focusing on eating the burger. "You've been working on your first bite for about an hour." I finished chewing. "Have not. If I don't take small bites I'll get full faster." He raised his hands. "Alright I believe you. You're not the slowest eater known to man." I laughed at that one because I really was slow at eating. Yesterday we had chicken, and one of the men sent in to observe me eating had to cut it up. Just like the spaghetti. They broke the noodles up before cooking it so they were just tiny pieces. I would be grateful if their food were any good. Their kindness only gave me no excuse for not eating. It always took me more than 45 minutes.

We chatted a little more about college and then he had to go. I was sad. So sad, I cried a little. They brought me back to my shared room and I sat on my bed and tried to calm myself. I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry.

I would not be that scrawny guy who had no backbone anymore. I had to want to change. And I really had the change.

~ I got a lot of inspiration forcthe second half of this book from one of Paramore's better songs off of their last album called Last Hope. its a 5 minute long inspiration and so this is named after a lyric from that song because its perf and whenever I'm sad I listen to it.