Supernovas & Escapism

Chapter Five

     I winced.

     This was an argument I'd heard many times over the past few years. Every time the wording changed slightly, but the point was always the same. It wasn't so much a call for action, as it was a call for trying to get me to see that I was somehow stupid. Stupid for clinging onto the past and cherishing all of those memories.

     It hurt to think that he could easily throw that away. I wanted to know how he felt, but he'd put up these walls that stopped me from talking about her. But I wanted to talk about her; I wanted to let everyone see that she wasn't just a ghost.

     And therein lay the problem. It was superficial and stupid on the outside, but so complexed and deep on the inside.

     I shuffled further into my seat, turning more and more away from him. Houses passed us outside the window in an incomprehensible blur. I'm pretty sure that if we hit a speed-bump, we'd be rocketed up at least five or so feet. I tried not to pay it much mind though.

     Dad sighed, the sounds of his hands gripping the leather wheel tighter filling the air. "You know what you're problem is Xavier," he said in a condescending tone, "It's that you're so quick to throw everything away after a minor setback."

     My nostrils flared with an internal scoff. If he bothered to pay attention to me (and if I was actually turned to face him), he might have seen the generous roll of the eyes that followed. It was funny how he called it a minor set-back. As if all these feelings inside my head were just so miniscule that they couldn't be traced.

     They were small grains of sand in the infinite of the universe, slowly being sucked down into an empty vacuum. My good thoughts were few and far between these days. The good thoughts that I spoke aloud were even fewer. Every time I opened my mouth, it just felt like I was speaking into a void of nothingness. There was zero point of me putting a foot forward, because it was going to get me sucked in sooner or later. Why fight the current when I could just relax and let it take over me.

     And slowly but surely I get it. I have come to the conclusion that I was not made to be saved. I was made to be yet another brick in the wall of destruction. This inevitable tidal wave that will consume me shows no sign of stopping. As much as other people want to pretend that I'm doing fine, surely someone has to see the truth in the madness.

     I am drowning, lost in a sea of my own nihilistic thoughts.

     And I'm sitting here, watching life pass me by, second by second. And my dad is busy ranting at me about how he wishes I was like most other kids. And I'm probably throwing my personal and professional relationships down the drain. And in the end all I can think about are two things.

     'Always be kind' and 'It's to give them a reason... an excuse.'

     As I try to rest my head against the cold glass, these two thoughts seem to cut up through the swamp of my mind. My eyes shutter close for a second as I try to focus on what Garth had said. It didn't make a hell of a lot of sense, but for some reason I just can't stop thinking about it. There's a puzzle there, and my brain is too busy trying to decipher and decode the meaning behind what was said.

     Being there for Mom is out of the question now. The only way I could do her any good would be to live vicariously through her words. We both knew that would amount to nothing if today was anything to go by. The sting in my fists flared up for a second as I thought back to it.

     But Garth is still out there. He's a person who might understand what it's like. It's selfish to try and play off your emotions like that, but he gets it in some way. There's something about him that makes me think he could appreciate what I'm going through. And the more I thought about it, the more attractive the thought was. As much as Dad wanted to ignore my feelings, and Sabrina wanted me to encompass my feelings, what I really needed was someone to just be there regardless of what I had to say. It didn't matter much if it was about the confusing swirl of thoughts, or the constant latch of something that made it impossible to go further.

     But I never dreamed about the chances of meeting someone who was like me; lost, confused, and alone. Not until Garth.