Empathy [Josh Dun - Twenty One Pilots]

Sunday, September 8th 2013

Journal,

School started again a few weeks ago. And things happened. Besides the fact that I got dumped by my girlfriend, which already makes me as sad as a teenage boy can be, nothing seems to fall right back into place. Literally nothing. But first, let me tell you about what happened with my friends.

It was around a week before the end of summer holidays. Before I broke into the Ryan's house and broke down in front of her father. Before she actually broke up with me. I was hanging out with the dudes at our usual spot: the empty parking lot of the abandoned swimming pool facility. No one ever went there besides us, and we took pride in having that secret place to call home when nowhere else seemed to make it okay for us. No need to say that home disappeared for me.

"I'm glad you're here, bro," Ethan started out of the blue, once we were finally settled, several bags of chips and cans of Coke open before every one of us. "Means you're finally getting that she's been leading you on."

I frowned, breaking up the smile that had started to creep up on my face. I thought Ethan was glad just to see me, because I kind of had been avoiding him and the rest of our group all summer. The fact that Debby had been so distant with me was indeed part of the reasons I'd spent the major part of the holidays locked up in my room, but it wasn't the only reason, and I liked to think that my friends didn't immediately assumed that I was that kind of guy to get all depressed on a love story that wasn't exactly working - although I am that kind of guy, but that's not my point. I thought... I don't know, I thought they'd at least ask what was behind my need to be alone. Instead of that, they all just assumed I was heartbroken.

I could have let that go, though, because Ethan was my best friend. We'd known each other since kindergarten, and he'd always been by my side, so much that I took it for granted that he'd always be that friend, the one that came before any other friend. Yes, I could have let it go, if it weren't for that second sentence that came out of his mouth. "What?" I said, giving him a chance to explain what he meant by Debby leading me on. Instead of that, he kept going down that steep and dangerous hill.

"I mean, for all we know, she could have spent all summer getting laid with another dude in Florida or that super exotic place she goes on holiday to," he kept on. "I never trusted her. She has that bitchy look in her face that..."

I got up at that point, my fists clenched. He stopped talking, almost surprised that I would look so pissed off. Let me make it clear that Debby and I hadn't officially broken up at that time. This would have happened after the dumping, I probably would have waved his words away, although the "bitch" part would still have made me cringe hard, because I felt nothing but disgust and disappointment for the girl. But in that moment, I still had hope that the distance between Debby and me was just a misunderstanding that we would get over soon, and hearing those insulting words coming from my best friend's mouth was enough to wake the boiling anger that had been hiding inside of me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked a little more agressively, still hoping that Ethan was just pranking me and we would all break into a good laugh that would set a nice atmosphere for the end of the night. But Ethan just got up from that wooden box that had been laying there since who knows when and that he had immediately took as his official personal seat the first time we came over here. He let out a mocking laugh, eyebrows shotting up.

"Man, don't tell me you're still hooked? Let her go, dude, she's over you!" he exclaimed.

I took a step towards him, my heart beating hard against my ribcage, hurting me, my lungs filled with rage. "How would you know?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer to that. Briefly, I scanned my surroundings, searching for some kind of support. Mark had stood up as well, looking at Ethan and me with a worried look that told me he would pass out if we started to fight, but Jake and Alex, our two other friends, were still on the ground, a set of cards in their hands, and I wasn't sure if the look of impatience in their eyes made them excited for a fist fight, or just for the possibility of keeping on with their stupid game.