Saviour. 》 g.d.

13; Filming

"So, your mind is powerful. I think we both know that." he began, a feeling of intimacy filling the room. Not in a creepy way, but in a nice, comfortable way. "For example, how do you honestly feel, right now, in general." He asked me, trying to make a point. I didn't quite understand what he meant, and said the first thing that came to mind. "Uhm, sad?" I looked at him sheepishly. He sat up straight and shook his head. "No, I mean.. What do you feel like? Like... put it as an action?" He suggested, squinting his eyes as he waited for another response. I thought about it, and scoffed sadly. "Honestly?" I asked him. "Honestly." He nodded his head, his lips curling into a comforting smile at the same time I felt his hand hold mine a little tighter.

"Like.. I failed everyone." I sighed, looking down at my lap, and at our hands. "Okay, so you think you're a failure, then." He said, and I nodded stupidly. "And if you think you're a failure, you'll feel like a failure. And then you'll act like a failure, which reinforces your belief that you must be a failure." He spoke, tilting his head and making sure I understood. I gave him a reassuring nod, so he could continue. "So, in short, your thoughts influence the way you feel and the way you behave." I kept nodding, following his train of thoughts. "That means then, that the way you think becomes your reality. Still following?" Ethan smiled at me. "Yeah. Makes sense." I said softly.

"Good. So, once you believe in something, yeah? You're gonna start looking for evidence, to reinforce your belief, but you're also gonna discount anything that runs contrary to your belief. Every single mistake you make, you view as proof that you're a failure, and every time you succed at something, you blame luck for it. Stop me if I'm wrong." I didn't stop him.

"Again, I'm not blaming you for anything. We all do this. Did it myself too, that's how I figured all this out." He emphasized reassuringly. I nodded in understanding. "So, I mean, all you have to do is believe you're a frickin' legend and all is right in the world again." He said sarcastically, sitting back. We both laughed at how easy he made it sound. "And how do I do that?" I asked him, earning a chuckle.

"I guess that's the hard part." He said, leaning to one side of his chair. He gave me a sad look.

"How do you do it?" I asked him softly, fiddling the sleeve of my dress.

Ethan took a deep breath, thinking about it for a minute. "Well, usually, when Grayson's feeling down, I'm down too. I guess it's a twin thing," he chuckled. "So we book a vacation somewhere far away, or hang with our family. Go on a social media break. Do what makes us feel good, hang with people that make us feel good. I guess it's just all about creating good, positive vibes. Working on yourself in a toxic environment is... nearly impossible. I mean, if you're sensitive to that." He said, finishing with a smile. I nodded, as it grew silent between us, both of our minds drifiting off.

Somewhere I knew and felt that he was right. But it was just hard to accept the fact that I was in my own way. And to quit loathing myself and act happy and motivated, that was even harder. But then I remembered, that was what life was all about. Falling down and getting back up, fighting for your happiness and fighting for what you stand for.

"..and you dont stop trying." Ethan spoke again, turning his head back to me. "You never stop trying, because.." he quickly pulled a face. "..there's always a light at the end of the tunnel." He said cheesily, and we both laughed. Ethan ran his fingers through his dark hair, and gave me a smirk. "I think I've made enough cheesy remarks today." He said, picking his cup off the nightstand beside the hospital bed, and swallowing the last sip of water in it. "I'm gonna get some more water." He said. "Alright." I said, but just before he was about to stand up and walk out of the room, he sat back down and looked at me.

"You feelin' a little better?" He asked me, and I carefully nodded my head. "Yeah. A little." I smiled up at him, only to have him return the act. "Still want to tell me what's on your mind?" He asked me. I gave him a long, hard look, but then decided it would be best, for myself, to talk to someone.