Getting Wilder ✔️

issue twenty-sixth: broken walls, open wounds

Underrated song. Apt.

The sky slowly camouflaged into hues of yellow and red as dusk descended, gently beckoning the earth towards night. I gazed silently at the window while I lay on my stomach on my bed. My chest felt like an icy tundra, a raging blizzard wrecking my heart.

I was drowning and I didn't know how to save myself. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had gone and made a fool of myself. How dumb could I be? Why had I blurted out like an unstoppable moron? 

But my words had been true. 

What about his?

Arfie whined softly from the foot of the bed. He jumped onto the mattress and lay down beside me, placing his head on his paws and gazing at me. His dark eyes glistened under the dim light of the room as I looked at him silently, unseeing.

I could still envision them standing around me, him among them. Whatever he had said, was it true? Was I really that much of an idiot? But it had all felt so damn real. My lips could still feel his. My skin still tingled from his touch. My heart still fluttered at the memories, as if they were the only things keeping it alive. Had it all been a lie? How could it be? If it had been a dream, how had it felt so tangible?

And knowing about his pathetic crush, I went along with it.

Was that all my feelings were to him? That he didn't think for a second before ridiculing them in front of everyone like that? The thought made my heart twist in anguish. How was it possible? How could everything be a facade? 

But maybe it was true. Marien had been the one talking to me at Kendra's party. Brad knew she was interested in me and hence sent Wilder after me. It didn't make sense. Everyone knew I was not into girls. Or at least, had an inkling since I hadn't really come out explicitly. Why then would Brad be so insecure?

Wilder was just upset after the match, and like a moron, I had decided to confess at the worst possible time. But I had honestly thought that it would set things right. 

"Honey," my mom called from the doorway. I realized with a jolt that my room had turned dark, the solitary source of light was the single stream of moon's silver streaming in through the window. When had night fallen?

I curled into a ball, hoping she would leave me alone. I didn't want to talk or move or breathe too loud. I wanted to disappear into oblivion. To rid of the familiar pain.

"Honey," she repeated. I cursed under my breath when my mom entered my room and walked over to me. I turned my face, half hiding in the pillow. She gently nudged Arfie so he obediently climbed down the bed. Much to my dismay, my mom took his spot on the mattress and gazed down at me, her brows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong honey?" 

She reached for my forehead and gently stroked the hair off it. I sighed softly and buried my face childishly in the pillow as she spoke again, "Ni-"

"What's wrong with me, mom?" I asked, my muffled voice breaking. "Why...there has to be something wrong, right?"

My mom took in a sharp breath and gently stroked my head. "Everyone has flaws, honey. It's what makes us ourselves."

I sighed, burying my face deeper into the pillow. I didn't want to talk to her. Or to anyone. I knew nobody could say anything to make me feel better. There was no way I could tell her anything anyway. Not without lying even more. Although my entire existence was basically a lie in her eyes. Which hardly made sense to me. My sexuality was just a part of me, but having to hide it made me feel suffocated as if it was all that I was. I was more 'gay' than I was 'Nico.' When had things gone so wrong?