He didn't really know what was wrong. It was either too many things circling through his head, trying to find a place, or just the feeling of being empty and alone. Either way, he couldn't figure it out. That feeling of emptiness when you see something that forces all those memories back that you have tried so hard to push down. One thing. That is all it takes to bring you from who you want to be, to the person you really are. Alone. Sad. Some call it depressed, but to him it's the frustration of knowing that no one really understands what he's feeling. He has friends, and they try to help. They give advice, or try to, offer their time for him to vent, and he wants to. Hell, does he ever want to, but he doesn't. Why? Well, that's easy. Why would anyone want to hear about all the s*it that is happening to him when they have their own problems? It just doesn't work. So he sits. Or reads. Or watches TV. Moving through the days. Some better than others. He sometimes has a good week where nothing can bring him down until all those haunting thoughts come stampeding in like crows spotting a dead animal, and then it's back to square one. Trying to give himself something to look forward to. Most of the time he can find something to smile about, but every now and then it becomes too much. Drives him to stay away from the people he wants to be around the most. Why should he smile when he doesn't want to? Why should he feel any sense of joy when no matter what he always ends up feeling the same way with the same stupid thoughts always waiting for him. Waiting to slowly creep back into his head as he tries to sleep, or when he tries to be social, or even when hes just trying to watch some TV. They always just sit there, at the back of his mind, like shadows waiting to rip the light from whereever it can, whenever it can.
No one really gets it though. He gets frustrated, often. He waits for someone to come along who might have the tiniest clue as to what he's feeling, or what he's been through, but no one ever does. They just nod their heads, say "I'm here for you" and thats it. Thats all. No advice that truly helps. He feels better when he can get things off his chest, but witout a way to truly fix it, without some kind of advice to help him move on from the years of pain and BS he's been through, he always just feels like he's either alone, or just in the way. He has some specific people he turns to. The ones that no matter what can make him smile about something. They're the ones he holds onto. The ones he texts randomly just to talk. About anything. About nothing. It doesn't matter.
Good friends are like drugs. The more you have, and the more they make you feel good, the more you want. He can count on one hand how many people make him feel like people actually care. About him. About his well being. About his future. Five people who aren't his blood relatives, but are family to him. Sometimes even more important than blood lines, because family isn't created because of the blood that runs through someones veins, but is built on trust, and compassion, empathy, and love. To be honest, blood has nothing to do with it. He had a front row seat to witness the truth behind that statement. Blood doesn't stop a father from walking out on his son. Love does. Blood doesn't stop a man who is supposed to be the rock of a family, the one who everyone turns to when their day has gone to s*it, from just walking away. Compassion and empathy does.
His life hasn't gone the way he wanted, but he tries to rebuild it. Kick out the people who bring him down, spend more time with the people who help him flourish. Mom is always there, even when he doesn't want her to be. He searches for a male role model. One who can fill some of the gap that his father left. Correction. He has one. One that is the closest thing he has to a dad after the runaway well, ran away, but of course he ruined that too. He tries to rebuild it now that he can. Now that he's trained enough to swallow down the feeling of abandonment that he can never seem to get over, but he treads carefully. Last time, he ruined it, this time he refuses to. More people have entered his life, too. People who only after a few short months have become his friends. Again, they help. Most of the time without even realizing it. They make him laugh, put a smile on his face, help him catch some of the light back, but that darkness still sits there like a rock is holding it to the bottom of his stomach. Sometimes he has to try and hold back tears at random points in the day. Sometimes a song comes on the radio that is literally about girls twerking in a club, and the tears just fall out, but he just wipes his eyes and keeps going. Afraid to let anyone see him break down. Afraid of ruining his reputation as the happy guy when most of the time he just fakes it until he's alone.
He keeps hoping that one day he won't feel like he does, but who the hell knows when that day will come, so he just repeats in his head what his mom has said to him since he was a kid. "Put a smile on your face, and fake it till you make it, sweetie." So he does. And it works. Sometimes. Sometimes it works just enough to convince everyone else, but it still works. He knows though. Knows that one day, this rut will break, and he'll be able to actually say "Good Morning" and actually feel good. He doesn't know when that will be, but the hope that one day it will happen makes his faking that much easier. He keeps his relationships going. The one's that truly matter. The ties that turn his fake smiles into real ones. They're the ones that will be there when he can be his best self. The person he wants to be. The man that he sees in his head with his mother standing there, who has never left his side, and the man that didn't ask for it, but became someone for him to look up to. The man he created such a bond with that even after years of little to no relationship is still his best friend who he knows will always be there. And of course he sees his friends. Some old. Some new. Young, old, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he sees it. In his head, in his thoughts, and it gives him hope, and sometimes thats all you need.
