Not In That Way

t h e n

6 years ago

I was in sixth grade when I got curious about my body. If it was not for the boys in my school then I wouldn't know what masturbation was. It was probably an afternoon when we were having lunch at the cafeteria. Atlas and other boys my age were engrossed on that subject.

I was grossed out by the idea of it. The boys had told me that it felt good and that I should try it. And yep, including Atlas. He had tried it.

Atlas was twelve and was growing rapidly, my head reached his his ears, so he was slightly taller than me. But he was growing so fast.

I spent the summer with my family at my grandparents' house in the Philippines. Summer 2011 was a blur, because I did not get to spend it with Atlas.

We called each other a lot of times and talked about a lot of things. He told me that he grew tall and that he was ready to go to school already. I wanted August to come near too, with a different reason.

One time, in the middle of our conversation I blurted something out;

"What does it feel like to.... umm... masturbate?" I probably stuttered. I regretted the question as soon as it came out.

"Umm... it feels good..." he probably stuttered as well. He told me that already that it felt good, he didn't press on. I'm glad he didn't. I wanted it detailed though.

So I tried it. And tried it. And tried it. And they're right.

There was a time back then when I accidentally saw Atlas about to do it. It was like any usual day. I walk down the road to get to his house. I knock at the door and his mom would then open it, greeting me and welcoming me as if I was a stranger. I then would ask, where he was even though I knew where he was when he was not in the leaving room. And his mom would say where he was. And I would reach the second floor, and I would not bother knock on his door. And then there he was, his hands in his jeans.

I ran away after that, it felt as though I was not allowed to see what I saw. We were awkward after that. But then, he told me about it and he said something with an 'r' and I was laughing and so was he, and we could not stop.

He always had a way of making things not-awkward. And I did not.

We were so different. And that has made all the difference.

He was and will always have a 'name'. No one forgot about him. Nobody forgot about me too. I was, well I was his 'pal'. 'Pal' was the best word that ever came out from the mouths of the kids at school to describe me.

"Hey Atlas! Hey... you!" The pronoun was indicating me. The fact that Tony Banks never knew my name was sad, because we were neighbors before.

"You are invited to my birthday party tomorrow, please do come and bring me gifts." It was okay though, because, I never really liked Tonton that much, he was a bully sometimes and he used to talk to birds.

We went to his birthday party, and Tonton was literally Atlas' tail. He was where Atlas was. And I realized I was where Atlas was. The difference is that Atlas was where I was too. And it had always been like that. Just until...

Our families were so close, people would mistake us for relatives. But we were not. By skin and by ethnicity. My family was Filipino-American. While Atlas's was mixed, Arabian- ish, caucasian-ish, and two other more ethnicities that I forgot. That's why he looked too beautifully different.

I started having these butterflies moving in my stomach when Atlas hugged me one time and I felt his thing on my leg. After that everything changed. Maybe it was there just even before the finding-him-jerking-off.

I never saw him as a friend anymore. I wanted him to touch me there. I wanted to touch him too. I was too young to feel such emotions. And I knew nothing was going to be the same anymore. I knew the secret was going to come out and I knew I was not ready.

And there I was, lived a life of holding back. It all felt like I stopped breathing and all there was to do was to hide in a closet.

I started wishing I was born a girl so that he would actually consider liking me. I felt pathetic. Bluer than his eyes.

I eventually stopped spending my time with him. The gap kept increasing.

We were not the only ones falling apart. I knew my parents were too. They kept fighting. They still do the turns-silent-when-I-arrive. They were bad at hiding and pretending everything was okay.

One time, I was asleep, I heard them shouting. I did not go down. After the silence, mom went to myroom. I felt her sadness. I heard the sadness in her voice. Her sadness filled the room and I just wanted to hug her and I should have, but I did not.

"I love you." She said sadly. I was awake, but I was good at pretending. So I pretended that I was asleep. I knew she was crying. After kissing my forehead and whispering 'good night', I had wished I never pretended that I was asleep that very night. After kissing my forehead whispering 'good night', she left my life. I should have known that 'good night' meant 'goobye'.

I never thought she could actually do that. I was only 11, and that never crossed my mind. All I was thinking that time was ice cream, family days, and happy things. Such sad thoughts never had crossed my mind.

I woke up without a mother anymore. It was like any other mornings, I prepared for school, ate breakfast and waited for mom to tie my shoe laces and drive me to school. But it was getting late and I shouted my mom's name and she would not just go down and so I went to my parents room. And dad was there and he was looking outside, but my mom was not there.

"Daddy, where's mom?" I was there clutching at my backpack, impatient.

"She left." He said it like he said it a lot of times. He did not take his eyes off of something outside.

She came back one year later. And everything was chaotic.

🌻sorry for the late update🌻