Disconnected ; Lashton

28. There For You

Today might be the worst day of my life. I’ve felt sick since the very moment I woke up this morning, which was way too early for a Sunday. I guess it just means I’ve got more time to prepare myself and collect my thoughts. Yesterday I decided that I would tell my mum about… everything. I didn't know if I would wait a few days but now that I realize I have to do it, I want to get it over with as soon as possible. But I’ve been pacing around my room for an hour now so I’d better hurry up and get this day started.

I don’t bother getting out of my pajamas before walking out of my room and down the stairs, every step feeling like I’m closer to doom. It’s like I weigh a thousand pounds- or like I’m walking on eggshells. Either way, my nerves are through the roof and all I want to do is run back into my room and hide under my blankets then call Ashton and ask him to sing me a song. That always makes me feel better, but now is not the time. I’ve done enough running these past months. Now it's time for it to end.

As soon as I step into the kitchen where I can hear my mum at work, my nose is filled with the smell of french toast. She turns around to glance at me where I’m standing in the doorway and smiles brightly, just like she does every morning. She’s always been a morning person, happy and full of life. My stomach turns. What if she can never smile at me like that again? After what I’m about to tell her, what if there's no happiness left?

I step on my bare foot with my lone sock-covered foot to try and push myself the rest of the way forward. I need to calm down. It’s not like she’ll just stop smiling forever… I hope. I’ll still be her son, she’ll still love me. Even if I’m damaged goods. I suppose I’ve been damaged goods since the day I was born, though. She’s always loved me regardless of all of my flaws, I pray this one won't be any different.

“Good morning, you’re up early! It’s a good thing too because I know how much you love my french toast and I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to bring myself to wake you up. Grab a plate!” She chirps. I smile nervously and try to hide how jumpy I am. I grab a plate out of the cabinet and she spatulas a pile of french toast onto it which I douse in maple syrup. Despite how sick I feel, there is not a single bone in my body that can say no to my mums french toast. We sit across from each other at the kitchen table and start cutting up our food.

“So, how was band practice yesterday? Any new songs?” She asks. I just shrug with a smile and take a bite of my (heavenly) breakfast. Despite my usual lack of a good answer, she continues talking to me like normal. She just loves to have conversations with me, even if they're one-sided. I do my best to nod accordingly to all of the random topics she brings up and I almost forget what I even came down here to do. I'm down here with intent.

“And how are things with Ashton?” She asks, raising her eyebrows suggestively. Usually, I’d roll my eyes and blush, but today is much different.

I swallow and lick my lips a few times as if it’ll warm me up for speaking, although I know that’s not how it works at all. My eyes dart to every corner of her face- the face that belongs to the very first memory of mine that I can recall. I was three years old, it was Christmas time, just like it is now. I know this because her face in the memory was illuminated by our old Christmas lights. I was wearing my favorite pajamas. They were my favorite because they were a certain kind of soft that made me feel safe. She made me feel safe.

I don’t feel unsafe now. I sort of feel like I’ve slipped back into that memory somehow, except now… instead of talking to my mum like I did so freely back then, I’m held back by the way my brain is so disconnected.

I’m disconnected. From my mum. From life. I have been for a while now, but I’m slowly coming back. I’m reanimating. My mum, to who I owe everything, has been in the dark for much too long. And if I had been open in the first place, I believe it wouldn't have been such a daunting task for me to speak to her.