Hypocrisy (Austlan Cashby)

Chapter 22

One thing (along with the many others) that I hate about myself is my reaction towards sensitive or touchy subjects. I shut down and all of the useful things that I could have said, don't come out. Or, if they do it's broken and all in all, a big stuttery mess. I trip over my words and all of the meaning that was there, disappears with every word I try to say. Having an ability to comfort someone in a time of sadness would be helpful in so many ways.

Including this one.

Austin is having a break down. You know, the ones where you shut down? I've had them so many times and have even mastered a way to get through one without killing yourself. It's obvious that this is Austin's first breakdown. Considering the way he's reacting to such sad feelings. I can almost tell what he's thinking, because I've been there too. Now, if I could muster up an encouraging speech to help him, he would feel better. But, I can't so I've resorted to touching him to show that I'm still here. He doesn't want that, but it's all I can do.

"I hate myself," Austin finally says. The silence was dangerous because I know what is going on inside Austin's mind.

"I love you," I say, placing my hand on his hip and looking him into his tear filled eyes. "I love you with all of my existence and just because you don't like yourself right now doesn't stop me from loving you."

I think I'm getting a hang of this.

"Do you really?" There was something in his voice; desperation. Choosing to stay silent at a time like this would be a terrible decision on my part.

"Of course," I pushed his tear soaked hair away from his eyes, "with all of my heart."

With that, he smiled. The smile was somewhat genuine. Or, as genuine as it could be at a time like this. Oh, how I wish I could have led him into the past so he could see my first breakdown. I don't really think you can tell if a breakdown is a breakdown when you're experiencing it, you're to caught up with you're scary thoughts to put a name on anything. But, to an outsider with experience like me, it was easy to say what this was.

I wrapped my arms around his thin frame. Taking in the smell of tears and sweat. Is it possible to be smell biased? Does that even make sense?

Like, if I were to smell something like that on any other person but him, I'd back away. But, to me this smells like safety. I can't smell this on any other person and think of safety. No one brings me as much safety as Austin does. I don't think anyone ever will. Safety was designed to be with Austin, somehow. I couldn't ask for anything more than to be safe. But, to be safe and in love too. Well, I'm living the high life.

But why can't I be as grateful for the bad thoughts to stop. So many people ask to be in love. It's something you wait for as a kid. Although, boys did have cooties. Wether you were gay or not.

"Why do you stay?" I found myself asking. It didn't even take strength to ask it because it's s reasonable question. All I do is take and take. What does he get out of this? Sex, one time? No. There is something more and I want him to tell me.

"What?" He was shocked, not a reaction I was expecting.

"Out of this relationship. What's in it for you?" He shook his head. Although, this wasn't my low self esteem talking. But, my curiosity getting the best of me. I guess I've always wondered this.

"Everything and nothing." He didn't have to think about this and rushed it out. "You make me happy when I'm sad. You make me smile. You make me love. You make me, well, me. Without you, I'm no longer completely Austin." He smiled at me, "on the other hand, we have someone who doesn't love themselves, but I don't either. So, I can't judge. We're both broken." He looked in my eyes to make sure I was still paying attention before continuing, "Therefore, our relationship is so cracked. Like, beyond fucking recognition cracked. But the difference between a seriously broken relationship and ours is that we are both willing to get better, but in order to do that we've found out we have to do it together."

I let his words sink in to a point where they made sense. They did make sense. Total sense. I need him to get better and same for him. This feeling is mutual.

But, it's impossible for both of the people in a relationship to love each other the same amount. There is always greater amounts of love in one person and less in the other.

The real question is, who is more in love? Who is putting in more effort in this relationship?

It's me. It has to be.