I live for her

Chapter 8: Surprise

I've been awake and the thoughts... they still haunt me (poets need a certain amount of courage that I don't have). I just want to lie in bed and sleep. I can't face the world, I can't face life. I'm too exhausted - mentally - for that, I lack the willpower to write and the willpower to fight. I just want to lie in bed while my thoughts incise the walls of my sanity like a dead gazelle with their lion claws. I don't feel like crying right now... I just feel like... I'm stuck. I'm stuck. The solution to all my problems quickly morph into something too complicated to attempt. And the meaning of my life lies in that solution. Confused yet? So am I. Why is an introvert gifted with a talent that is best utilized to help people only when he talks to them. I'm... the socially anxious introvert, the one constantly feeling sorry for the strangers he interrupts on their walk of life - because they have to talk to a sorry excuse of a human being... That is him - that is me. How can I convince people that I can help them with my poetry? How can I convince people to hear me out, when they can sniff fear from my posture and perceive it in the petrified pupils of my eyes? How can I be who I need to be? Do you see why I just wanna fucking sleep? I can't crack the code, don't know the metaphorical numbers I need to unlock the lock that has my self-confidence locked in. My heart says I can do this, but every other organ says, realistically, there's no way in hell I will develop the guts to share my poetry with people who actually need it. You see, proving others wrong is one thing... but proving yourself wrong, is another thing - the difference is, one voice comes from the mouths of others and the other... You can't silence with a suckerpunch because its lips are intangible, they are in your brain whispering doubt-rich thoughts through megaphones. I sigh... a heavy unheard sigh... A sigh to halt the thinking that keeps going in circles like a dog chasing it's own tail - It will never catch the tail. So I exhale and stare with a blank mind at the ceiling until my phone rings and I see Emily's picture: my heart stings.

"Roy"

"Yeah?"

"You know, you've got to visit your mum today, right?"

I turn my head towards the clock on my wall... I'm supposed to be there in 15 minutes. I... don't feel surges of anxiety from realizing I'll be late - I'm... not going. Last thing I can handle at my state is the sight of a mother in excruciating pain wearing a mask of optimism and resilience.

I clear my throat... to amplify my speech with assertiveness because I know Em is going to argue with me about it. "I can't make it today, I'll reschedule or something... But I can't make it today."

"Leroy Emmanuel Williams," she cleared her throat and I knew it was to make her rage more audible, "If you don't get your fucking ass to the hospital... I'm going to make you regret it!" Hearing her outburst made me smile... She sounds cute when she's mad. But I'm stuck in this apathetic state, I couldn't care less if she assaults me on Monday... I can't care. I'm just tired and not in the mood for emotions.

I sat up and dragged my undead legs to the kitchen. "Emily Josephine Grey, I'm really tired." I made sure to emphasize and drag the "really".

"Huh?" she said before she explained to her mother that I'd changed my mind as I scanned a near-empty fridge for something edible like an abandoned soul in a desert.

"Leroy, what's wrong?" Her worried voice asked.

"I'm hungry."

"You're... hungry?"

"Yes! I'm really hungry."

"Is that all?"

There was a long pause over the phone call as I thought about it, I thought long and hard about her question... about confiding in her. However, the only word my mouth could utter was, "Yup!".

"Alright, bye." She said in a haste and rudely cut the call before I could say bye back! I dropped my phone on the kitchen's marble counter top and ate some yogurt as I tried my utmost best to think of nothing.

After managing to drag my limbs to the couch closest to the TV, I started watching a double bill of "How I met your mother".

I heard the sound of an engine - one dissimilar from my dad's car's. Before I could peek out the window Emily called.

"Babe."

"Yeah?"

"Open up."

"What do you mean?" I asked as I unlocked the front door and tried to lull my newly-birthed fears to sleep. The ones that say Emily knows I'm hiding things from her and she wants to know of the scars I've shown no living being.

A chilly wind slapped my face like a block of ice as I opened the door and Emily smiled at me with a burger king bag in one hand and ice cream in the other. I tried my best not to express signs of disapproval of Emily's visit because I could see her bruised-faced mum from the window of her Toyota. I grabbed the food and hugged Em, waved her mum goodbye and walked her into my dad's house.

A/N: So, Emily showed up with food... What do you think will happen? Will she soften him up and make him confess his dark secrets? Or will he keep everything to himself again?

🚉 Choo-Choo. We went for a pitstop after all that emotional stuff. I hope you dig it.

Thanks for stopping by :)