Empathy [Josh Dun - Twenty One Pilots]

Monday, September 9th 2013

Journal,

Today wasn't a great day at all.

Sure, I didn't expect it to be great either, but I certainly didn't imagine everything could go so wrong, so fast. Let me explain.

I wasn't feeling great when I woke up this morning, and the fact that my hand was still painfully throbbing from the punch I gave Ethan wasn't entirely out of fault. Mom assured me that I could stay home for the day, that she'd write a note for school, but I definitely didn't want to miss. I didn't have a perfect attendance record to stand up to, sure, but staying home was like letting Ethan win. Because I was convinced that he wouldn't miss the opportunity to show off his wound to the entire school, hopefully expecting both senior and junior girls to fall for him in the process.

I won't lie to you, journal: I also kind of hoped that after a short while, like, a whole day of silent treatment, Ethan would come to me and apologize, and I'd apologize too for hitting him, and we'd shake hands and everything would go back to normal. But today proved me wrong, and I don't think things will go back to normal. Ever again.

Fucking empathy.

Anyway. Mom dropped me off at school, and my heart dropped as soon as I entered the main building in the direction of my locker. On the other side of the hallway, Ethan was there, strutting about, showing off the weird shades of blue and black and yellow that were now coloring his right eye. But that's not what bothered me the most, no.

Debby was there too. Debby, with her red hair perfectly framing her baby face, her pouty lips shining under the corridor lights. And she was touching his face and whispering and smiling and being all lovey-dovey. Nauseous, I tried to ignore that and pretended to search for a book I didn't even need. But all I could hear, despite the noisy ambiance, was the faint sound of her voice. And I could only imagine what she had to say to him.

Clenching my fists out of rage, I was disgusted. Not only because of Ethan's disturbing hypocrisy - I thought she was a bitch? - but because damn, I knew I still loved her, although I wished I could hate her instead. And for a second there, I wished Ethan had beaten me up. She would have been caressing my cheek then, smiling at me, whispering soft words of recovery to me, promising me sweet kisses on the corner of my mouth as soon as it would stop hurting.

Frustrated, I closed my locker with a loud bang that could have woken up the dead, and as I started walking towards my first class, I realized that the majority of the hallway was staring at me. My eyes stopped on Debby, who had obviously heard my sudden excess of anger, and she greeted me with a wave of her hand, smiling sadly. I looked away. I didn't need her pity anyway.

Ethan, on the other hand, was grinning, that shit-eating grin everyone would hate to see on his so-called best friend's face, especially when directed towards you. He was content. The douchebag. He must have told everyone that I was the one who had punched him, and even if it wasn't the case (although I was pretty sure it was), they could have guessed from my bandaged hand anyway.

Before all that, Ethan and our group of friends used to wait for the last ring to finally head out to class. We'd often get disapproving looks from our teachers for getting to our seat at the last second, but it never really got us into trouble, and it was fun. It gave us - and me - a kind of a sense of belonging that almost every teenager needs in high school. But today, I didn't have that. Instead, I just hurried to my class without looking up from my feet, and the look of surprise I saw in the math teacher's face gave me the feeling that something was clearly wrong. Something was missing. The puzzle pieces didn't fit anymore.

And that's how I felt all day. Like a lost piece of puzzle. Unable to find a way to fit. Unable to turn to another piece that would go along with me, that would make me feel less alone, that woud make me realize that I wasn't useless on my own. And for the first time since the beginning of high school, I ate lunch alone. I had already seen people eating alone, but to this day, I had never realized how sad it actually was, and how hurt the person was probably feeling. Had I known that before, I would have made sure that none of them actually had to endure that for one more day. But as I was experiencing loneliness for the first time, and looking at those few other lonely people scattered across the room, I couldn't bring myself to get up and join one of them.

Loneliness has a way of closing doors in your mind that you wouldn't normally have. Like, I was a pretty social guy. I didn't have any problem interacting with new people, and I loved getting to know strangers. But as soon as I experienced being alone, even for a single day, something in me switched, and suddenly, I wasn't able to look people in the eye. Loneliness calls for loneliness, and once you're in, it's so hard to get out.

"Hey, Josh?"

Mark's voice brought me out of my thoughts. I looked up at the clock over the blackboard, and realized it was time to go home already. My feet had brought me from lunch to class without me really noticing. I guess loneliness can also make you lose control of reality. I finally turned to Mark, expecting some kind of joke. He was still friends with Ethan after all, and I saw them laughing at lunch. Maybe he was trying to prank me or something.

"What?" I replied agressively.

Mark held both of his hands up in surrender. "Wow, chill," he said, looking nervously at the door, and from the look on his face and how he bent over to whisper, I knew he was about to tell me something he didn't want Ethan to hear about. "I just wanted to let you know that um... We're still friends right?"

I raised my eyebrows. My heart banged in my chest, and I wanted to say yes, but my mouth was reluctant to open up.

"Anyway, like, I don't think you're crazy, okay?" he added like that was supposed to make me feel better. But honestly, it just confused me more.

"I mean, I'm sorry, I know that's what Ethan has spread all over the school. That you're crazy, I mean. He's telling everyone what happened and how you talked about stuff you shouldn't know about and like, everybody probably thinks you're a loony or something but I don't. It's just... What happened was so weird man. What was that all about?"

I bit my lips. What was I supposed to say? Did he expect the truth? Should I have told him that, ever since my birthday, I felt things I wasn't suppose to, like other people's feelings? Wouldn't that have made me look crazier than he probably thought I was, no matter how much he denied it? I shrugged, still unable to come up with words.

"I mean... If you want to talk about it, I'm here okay?" Mark said, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was entering the classroom.

"Yeah, you're here only if Ethan doesn't see, right?" I spat, regretting my words as soon as they came out. Stupid mouth. Stupid brain. I don't know why I snapped at him like that, because Mark was probably the guy that deserved it the least.

He seemed hurt for a second - which I can honestly understand, the poor guy reached out to me and I just pushed him away - but forced a sad smile. "Whatever, man. Just know that I'm here if you change your mind," he said before turning around and walking out.

So here's the situation now: I'm alone. My girlfriend broke up with me out of the blue, and I don't seem to have friends anymore. The only one that still wanted anything to do with me, I pushed away, and although I regret it, I know there's no way to turn back time, and I'm too proud to go back and apologize when I know I'm the one at fault.

What does that leave me?

Nothing.

It's quite funny, when you think of it. I had problems, for sure, like every teenager. But I also had everything. And because of this accentuated empathy, I end up with nothing. Maybe it's a punishment. Maybe I deserve it somehow. I wasn't considerate enough. I took everything for granted. I'm a useless piece of crap.

When I lay in bed at night, I just want to close my eyes, and open them anew, with everything going back to normal.

But what is normal?

I guess this is my new normal. And either I put up with it and learn to live with it, or I don't. Time will tell the path I choose to take.