Please Just Let Me Stay

Chapter 9

Tre went home after a few hours of cuddling and watching TV. I know that he was scared to leave me, which made me feel guilty. It's not fair to him to always have to worry about me.
After he left, I laid in the bed for awhile. The left side of my face was pressed against the cool pillowcase as I held all the covers up to my chin. The TV was off, leaving the only sound to be the fan.
When I was a little boy and my dad died, I used to lay like this. The covers would be bunched up around my chin and they would catch all the tears that fell.
I've always wondered why blankets make people feel so safe.
It's like after watching a scary movie and you turn off the lights in the bedroom. You're so terrified that you hurry and run to the bed, and as soon as you get under the covers everything seems to be okay.
Last night, when Tre was on top of me, I thought about him the same way.
He was my blanket last night. And this morning. He protected me from the darkness which has become a part within myself.
So I laid there in my bed for what seemed like 1,000 hours. I stood up, and my pants began to fall down a bit. I looked down and really noticed my how much weight I had lost.
My hipbones stood out. There were little cuts scattered on them, which made them stand out even more. How could Tre love me with a body like this?
How can I expect someone to love me, when I can't even love myself?
It sounds like such an incredibly cliche thing to say. But my mind constantly asks itself that very same question.
So I stood there. I'm still standing here. Looking down at my cut up bones.
My phone rang. This was the fifth time now. But I just couldn't move.
I shut my eyes. Everything was dark, everything was quiet. Time continued to pass but I just stood still.
The air from the fan was making my bare torso cold. I had chill bumps but my body just wouldn't move to get back under those tear-soaked blankets.
My phone rang again. And again.
But it's like I couldn't hear it.
I couldn't hear or feel anything.
My entire body was numb until I felt a pair of arms wrap around me from behind. They pulled me closer to them and placed their chin on the crook of my neck.
I turned myself around and dove into Tre's arms. He smelled like fabric softener and orange soda. I could feel the heat from his skin coming through his thin t shirt.
"It's okay." He whispered to me, "I'm here now."
He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me down the hallway and down the stairs to the living room.
I figured he was just going to set me on the couch and try to distract me with more Lifetime movies. But, instead, he put me down in front of the couch.
After taking an seat himself, he grabbed the two of my hands and interlocked his fingers with mine.
I felt so very naked in front of him. He was fully clothed while all I had on was a pair of briefs and loose pajama pants.
He smiled up at me. I couldn't help but smile back.
Tre then stood up hisself and unlocked our hands.
He grabbed the hem of his own shirt and pulled it off. I gulped as he revealed his beautiful tattoos and bare skin to me.
"Billie, do you see this right here?"
I looked to where his finger pointed.
He was signaling to a scar just below the end of his rib cage.
"Yes." I gulped, "I do."
"When I was about eight years old, there was this kid that moved in near me." He took a pause to capture a breath. "We were friends at first, you know. We were little boys and we didn't see how our differences should really matter."
He licked his lips and took another breath before he continued.
"When we got older, we saw our differences more and more. I learned to accept them, and I came to terms with the fact that just because I was different from him, didn't mean that I was different from everyone else. There were people like me, and people like him too."
I nodded my head, unsure of where this was going.
"But he, well he just didn't get it. He was so angry that we had differences now. He didn't understand that they didn't define us and didn't mean that something was wrong. He kept clinging onto the idea that we had to be friends. One day, I was out with another boy from school. Long story short- he got mad and ended up hurting me bad enough to leave a scar."
Tre grabbed both of my hands again.
"Billie, this situation is within you. When you were a young boy, you were the same person that you are now. As a little kid, you were able to feel such a pure and wholesome love for yourself, even with your quirks. But as you got older, there was this side of you that grew to be unable of accepting that. This other side is hurting you. Billie Joe, you've managed to convince yourself that this other side is completely you. Just like him with me, you think you have to tolerate this side. But you don't. Yes, it's always going to be a part of you. Some days you're going to look in a mirror and see darkness staring back. But just because you see darkness, it doesn't mean there isn't light behind it."
Tre's words seemed to be tangled up. But somehow I knew what he meant. I understood just what he meant.
"What happened to him? The kid, I mean." I asked.
"Well, Billie Joe... I don't know. I wish I could tell you that he learned to love himself and we became good ole friends but that's not what happens. Society has a way of making it seem like every scenario ends in a happy ending. So when yours doesn't, it seems like you're the only one whose life is ending in shambles."
After he spoke, we stood there holding hands for a bit. My brain was gasping in the resonating messages from his speech.
It's okay to be quiet sometimes. Not everything has to have an abrupt ending. Sometimes you can just fade out.
So Tre stood there with me for awhile. He's always been so good about that. He's willing to wait for me to reach my own conclusions about things.
So for now, I need this time. Cutting myself may seem like a dramatic fall. The scars that stay behind are not battle scars like everyone likes to call them.
The real battle is bouncing back from this endless pit of darkness.