wasting time » lh ; mc

eighteen

"My Pop-Pop found her. Three hours before I caught the bus to their house." Michael remembers the day much clearer than he admitted to anyone. That week was supposed to be his week--they had an alternating schedule on where he spent his time. He only got to see her at bed-time the night before and when she woke him up the morning she left him forever. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours he'd spent with her. Michael was still full of so much anger and sadness and regret.

"Michael, who did he find?"

"My mom. He found my mom. Six years ago, on November 4th."

"That's today, Michael," Luke gasped. "Oh, my God."

"November 4th was also the day my father started believing mental illnesses were the person's fault," Michael admitted. His parents loved each other, they did. They were each other's first loves and forever will be. Even after their divorce. But, that doesn't mean Michael's dad didn't process the grief in an irrational way that made him hate anyone who was 'like his ex-wife.'

Michael hasn't been diagnosed. He hasn't been to a doctor or a therapist to talk about what's going on but that's because he's afraid. He's afraid of his father's own grief even after six years. But, Michael understands. They both don't want to face the truth; his father doesn't want to believe a chemical imbalances caused such a horrific thing and he doesn't want to believe he's taken after his mom.

Even if he hasn't been diagnosed, and self-diagnosis isn't exactly a good thing, he knows. There's so much sense behind the mindset he's been in for all this time when you bring the explanation of depression. His mother's incapability to handle her own depression just caused him a lot more problems, too.

"Why's that?"

"He told me she caused her own problems because she did bad things." He never let his dad push those beliefs into his mind. He didn't want to think of his mother as a bad person, because she was Michael's best friend. She was not, is not, and never will be a bad person.

"To you? To others?"

"To herself."

It was quiet. Both appreciated it but for very different reasons. Michael because he didn't want to talk about it; Luke because he wanted to process it. The static over the phone and Michael's staggered sniffles and uneven breaths were becoming the unfortunate soundtrack to Luke's night.

"Was she a good person?"

"Yes. She was my favorite person in the world. I wish you knew her, Luke," Michael smiled sadly; they would've liked each other. Neither tolerated the shit Michael gave them, but they both tolerated Michael.

"You could take me to her grave one day, if you'd like to indulge in friendly activities that include tasteful hints of gloom." And he laughed. It was a snot-filled, cracked laugh, but still a sound that unknowingly made Luke's face light up.

"We had her cremated," Michael said, "and then we sprinkled her ashes at her favorite place."

Anything to get Michael thinking about joyful memories was Luke's plan. "Where was that?" he wondered.

"The beach. Key West, Florida."

"That's a lovely place."

"I hated the beach. Mom always dragged me to it when we went on vacation," Michael had a sad, reminiscent smile. "Now I wish I spent all that time enjoying it instead of being a grump."

"You spent all the time you possibly could've with her." Luke, over the course of this hour they'd been talking, has realized one thing: he takes his parents' existence in his life for granted. He always complained about Andrew, but at least he still had both of his parents. At least they didn't invalidate his feelings.

"Not enough to make her stay," Michael cried. The tears that had dried made his face sticky and the fresh ones were rolling onto his hand and he could feel them on his phone. "Not enough to make her so proud of me that I was a reason to stay. She was my reason."

"I think she'd be extremely proud of you," assured a smiling Luke, looking absentmindedly at the cracks in his ceiling. "Look at everything you've accomplished; is that not enough to prove it?"

"I try to prove it to her every day. Every game."

Then, it hit Luke. It was the smallest of details but he could pick it out any day if you asked him to: Michael never stopped for anything, he beat himself up both physically and mentally. At what price? He just wanted to be good enough. Not for himself, or the people around him--his mother.

"That--she's why you're so..."

"If you're going to say something degrading, now would not be a good time." Luke could tell Michael was trying to lighten the mood by being sarcastic, which he shouldn't feel the obligation to do. Forcing yourself not to feel things is never good.

"So set on doing everything right and doing it perfectly," Luke finished.

Michael sighed, "I wish I wasn't like this."

"I like the way you are."

"You like Penelope." Michael's voice was straining again. Luke didn't know why.

"That's different..." Luke said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's different because friendship is what you want with me but not with her, in the same way I don't want it with you," Michael admitted, and why the hell did he say that. It happened before he thought to stop it and now there's no taking it back.

"Are you saying--"

Then, in a quiet, fragile voice, Michael says, "Thanks for listening to me, Luke. I'm going now." The static rang in his ears before Luke finally pulled the phone away slowly, letting it drop to his lap as he stared ahead. He was so confused and worried and what just happened because everything was fine yesterday--

The room seems to shrink and his thoughts seem to bloom as his mind wracked with everything that led up to Michael's breakdown. Based on the way he acts, Luke understands now. The signs were all there, really. Every bit of Michael's personality was shaped by all aspects of what had happened earlier in his life. This is probably why Luke was so quick to feel annoyed and clung to: because he didn't know truly know Michael. He never figured out the core reasons for why he was the way he was.

Michael Clifford was good enough, dammit. Michael Clifford was incredibly flawed, but just as much as anyone else. Michael Clifford had so much more going on inside of that stubborn head of his and Luke was getting one step closer to figuring it all out.

• • •

someone asked in chapter 14 about Michael's mom leaving him and you have your answer im just so sorry you had to figure it out this way oops ://

we're getting somewhere. a sad somewhere, but hey. that's what im good at