simply tired

chapter fifty three

Michael has been attempting to do the good things about which he thinks. he wants to at least try to enjoy some of the little things, even if they're stupid or if it's hard. it's raining and he kind of wants to sit in it; so he does.

the concrete of the sidewalk is cold and damp even through his worn jeans. his soft, indigo sweater is doing nothing to keep him warm; constantly falling down to hug his arm and leave his shoulder bare,  but he loves it. he knows there's probably some hair color trickling down his sore neck by now, and that his skin must have reddened from the cold droplets pouring down upon him. it was somehow invigorating. he loved feeling like the wind around him was passing to deal with it's own pain.

Luke said his rushed goodbyes a few hours before the rain started, his Mom needing him back at the house. Michael is trying to do things right. he lets the gloomy thoughts flood him like the summer rain is doing the streets and then he takes a deep breath and thinks.

Michael needs Luke; it's a known fact. he also is now aware that Luke loves him, and that Luke is convinced that he needs Michael too. so maybe, somehow, Michael can fix this. maybe he can mend what he has torn.

it's been on Michael's mind for a while now; finding a way to fill the void that was Michael's only moments of stress relief. he's starting to think that yeah, maybe he does need to see a therapist like Luke had briefly mentioned in one of his 'I'm just worried about you' rants. maybe that could help.

however, Michael's brain despises him and makes it's mission to chop up the positive aspects of Michael's mind. his brain makes him feel as if seeing a therapist would make things worse. he has nothing against the field of work, and he knows that they have saved countless people. however, opening up the dam of memories and tears would break him even more, wouldn't it?

at least when he's sad, he has something valuable to lose. it's awful how much he values the pestilence that is his depression. if he loses this constant pain and anger that pokes him with thoughts like knives. if he w would be completely different and blinding and too much. he hated change; in fact, he can't handle change very well. true happiness is nonexistent and unheard of to him at this point.

Michael remembers what being happy was; he knows that he was happy at one point. the only problem is that now Michael can't remember how happiness really felt- the flame in his soul was blown out with the incarceration of his father and the death of his best friend. all he's got is dusted ice in his chest, that only melts with Luke's embrace.

now he knows that Luke is determined to prove that he's staying. yet, Michael is worried that Luke just wants to prove it to him. maybe Luke is so worried about making Michael okay, that he isn't worried about himself. when Michael thinks about that possibility; he realizes that he might be doing that exact thing.

cars race by and Michael briefly wonders what they think of a sad, pale boy sitting it out in the rain, but then he realizes that they probably don't care. everybody's got their own shit with which to deal. he's aware that a lot of people don't have to worry about those small details in life; they're busy and doing okay. Michael just wants to watch people and avoid the things in his life. it's kind of awful.

a bike rider passes behind Michael in a flash, puddles splashing his shoes. it makes Michael wonder if she even saw him there, did she see him crying?

Michael didn't know why the fuck he was crying- however, wasn't he always crying?

it's just difficult to keep calm when Michael knows that Luke exists. he is breathing and warm and Michael has memorized the curves of Luke's broad shoulders and how they drop when he's worried. Michael loves Luke, shouldn't it be as simple as that?

author's note:

sorry it took so long. I promise I'm trying to actually go somewhere with this story I'm sorry guys it's been boring lately.

let me know what you think!

-jasmine :)