worst ; gawsten

eight

so um. this one's a lot. trigger warnings for anxiety and panic attacks. 

He buys a journal.

It's a shitty tiny one from a local bookstore in the next town they stop at. The cover is smooth, not leather like Patty's is, but still nice to run his fingers across. There's a band attached to the back he can stretch over the book to keep it closed. The pages are lined and the spine doesn't break when he opens it all the way and it may not be the prettiest of journals but it'll get the job done.

He's always had noise in his head – even moreso after the breakup – but the main source of noise is Twitter and Instagram and people texting him asking if he's okay no I'm not fucking okay my girlfriend cheated on me three times and has a new boyfriend and doesn't seem to give a shit about everything we had and maybe I wanted to marry her and was planning our future together but that doesn't matter now none of it matters she cheated she's gone it's over. Oh, and my bandmate, my best friend for almost eight years, drunkenly told me he loved me. But it's fine everything's fine I'm fine.

And Patty's point about sitting and listening to music and writing may not have been the worst idea. He's used to writing on his phone - his notes app is a journey and a half to scroll through – and sometimes he turns on Do Not Disturb and airplane mode to try and get rid of the notifications but maybe the solution is to get rid of the temptation entirely.

So he plops down on the grass against a tree the next time they stop. Patty joins him, sits on the other side of the tree and writes too, the silence so deafening he wouldn't know Patty was even there if not for the soft breathing he hears when one song ends, waiting for the next to begin.

His pen scratches across the paper messily. Once he starts he can't stop. The lyrics need to be polished reread and edited but the skeleton, the backbone, the basic structure, is all there. It's jagged edges and unhappy endings the boy always gets fucked over in the end the sadness is always too much he's always too much he thinks he's found someone who'll listen to him and comfort him on bad days and let him cry and then she tells him he's too much and too dark and his depression is too much and he's blindsided by all of it because he thought she was okay with it she said she was okay with it how long was he bothering her how long did he not know.

How long has he been blind how long has Geoff loved him how long has she not how long has his life been happening in front of him while he's been sitting in the passenger's seat on autopilot how long has he been letting people make decisions for him how long has he ignored his feelings why are they all spilling out now he didn't mean for this to happen hedidn'twantthishedidn'twantithedidn'tfuckingwantit.

He doesn't realize he's crying until one of the tears drips onto the page, splashing and mixing with the freshly drying ink. He slams his head back against the tree trunk and closes his eyes. The silent tears slip down his cheeks and cling to his neck and he bites his lip to keep the sob in because he can't explain this to Patty right now.

He's a mess and he knows it.

...

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can."

"He won't understand."

"Yes he will."

"Oh my god I'm gonna puke I can't do this..."

"Geoff." Otto grips his shoulders and forces him to look at him. Geoff wobbles on his feet. If Otto weren't holding him he probably would've fallen. "It's going to be fine. You needa breathe, alright? You're gonna have another panic attack."