When I got home, I struggled to recall everything that was today, besides the small episode I had during french, and the thoughts that followed. I just wanted to retain the good parts. The teachers lounge part. And the clouds and the stick figures and the tall woman. All of it. It was an interesting day with a lot of feelings trapped inside every single piece of it, and I just sighed when I came in the door, leaning my head against it. I felt like something directly out of some stupid movie. I was confused and maybe had a very small crush on a ridiculously beautiful and strange and magnificent boy, and I didn't know how to feel.
"Tyler, what's wrong with you?" My mom asked. God, why is she always home before I am? "Move away from the door."
At times like this, I wish I could speak to my mom about something other than grades or making new friends so that people wouldn't see her only son as a loser. But I couldn't. She wouldn't understand. She would blow it off and tell me to go do some homework to 'calm myself' or tell me to stop being ridiculous and go do my homework. Either way, she's not going to be too incredibly concerned about anything regarding my mental health. If she wasn't like this, she would probably know a lot more about me. But she didn't know about my perpetual sadness and the things that went on in my head for a reason.
"How was your day?" She chirped. "What did you learn?"
"It was good, mom," I snapped, purposely avoiding her last question. "My day was great. How was yours?"
Her jaw was clenched, but I didn't really care. Walking over to the fridge, I pulled a can of Pepsi out, despite my lack of hunger or thirst. When I was arguing with her, standing still made me feel helpless. Even though I tended to be.
"What's with the attitude?" She said sharply, narrowing her eyes. "I don't appreciate it, Tyler. Did something happen at school?"
"School was great," I said, leaving out what actually made school great. Honestly, I didn't even know if she knew I was gay, and so going on about some boy would probably give it away. But, did I truly care if she knew? Not really. "Thanks for asking."
The thing about me and my mom, is that our personalities clash more than any other two people I've ever met. She was a nice woman in general, I guess, but we were just so different that we never really got along. She worried about school and was usually upbeat and cheerful. I, on the near opposite side of the spectrum, was neither worried about school or upbeat or cheerful. I was sad and boring and translated my pain into lyrics that she would never read because she didn't really care. But she wouldn't
understand that, either, if she read them. She just didn't understand me in general. It sounds like a teenage thing to say, but it's true.
"I'm going for a walk." I announced coldly.
"You literally just got home," she hissed, making me shrug. "Don't you have homework?"
Ignoring her completely, I went all the way back to the front door, before sighing. "Yeah, mom. But that can wait."
"Tyler, you really should focus-" she started.
Briskly, I cut her off with the sound of the door sealing shut behind my furious body. Crossing my arms, I walked down the driveway, trying not to cry. My anger was usually tied to the production of my tears, and it was unbelievably embrassing. When my dad used to yell at me (on a very rare occasion) I wouldn't cry in front of him, but I would go in my room and break down.
I talk to my mom about my dad like I don't care about him. It's quite the opposite, actually. But we don't know where he is, considering the last time anyone saw him was five years ago. He didn't abandon us or anything, because he never packed his things up. Even his clothes were left behind. And all of the paper cranes he used to make. He made a lot of origami, and I have most of it that he didn't take to wherever he went. I wanted a small piece of him. It made no difference as to if it was paper or not.
The further away from my house I got, the more I figured I should uncross my arms. And so I just let them dangle against my sides, and my left arm brushed my ribs. They were poking out so much now, and I absolutely hated it. Besides what I ate with Josh, and the small amount of dinner I consumed, not much went into my body. Eating was always just one of the last things on mind, and I didn't even think about it unless I saw how small I was. I was tiny all the way around. It was a bit scary. So I, for the millionth time, silently reminded myself to eat something when I got home.
After a few more minutes of aimless walking, I thought about the fact that I had no idea where I was, or how to navigate the neighborhood. I don't go outside very often, and never thought of exploring my new area, honestly. It seemed a bit pointless to be out here, but I would only feel worse if I was trapped in that house with my mom.
Sighing deeply, I let the sound of my feet smashing down grass and leaves fill the air. It didn't work as I hoped, wanting it to distract my mind or calm my thoughts, and so I just kept walking. Further and further into some place I wasn't familiar with. Not like it really mattered. Did bears live in Ohio? Even if they did, I wouldn't fight them off or run. I would just stand there, trying to figure out when it was going to kill me.
When people think they want to cease to exist, they tend to say things like, "if someone was going to shoot me, I'd let them," but that is honestly the case for me. I don't care enough about myself to stay alive. But, then again, my desire to live would also be fueled by my love for other people. If I cared about anyone else enough, I would keep living and pushing through this unwelcome feeling. Because even deep down, I was so, so sad. It's a basic, simple, three-letter word, but it's the most accurate for me most times. Nothing, besides Josh and music, had any meaning or color or sounds. He was bursts of mystery and beauty and soft happiness, and makes me feel the same way I feel when I can actually write a happy song: good.
But besides him, there's no one worth staying around for. It's a terrible, ridiculous thing for me to think, but it's true. And people will tell you that you don't care about them if you just want everything to end, and that, that is not true. Because, like I said earlier, it's a matter of caring enough. For example, I love my mom, but I don't like her all the much. If it came down to it, I could leave her here. She'd be fine. I know she would be. She's got friends and a decent job and all of the basic things that (1) I don't have, besides, again, Josh and (2) I don't need.
But I do care about my mom. I'm thankful for her. She raised me and all that. Taught me how to make cookies and still pays for my clothing. As far as mothers go, it could've been a lot worse.
In order to distract myself even more, I attempted to memorize every inch of every tree and every leaf. It was hard, but I stared at everything deeply, biting my lip and furrowing my eyebrows. There was cracks in some of the bigger trees, and some of the leaves were dead. But I still looked. They deserved to be seen, too.
Then, though, the smell of smoke starting to circulate the air over and over. It wasn't enough for me to be afraid of a possible wildfire, but it was still smoke. Some of it burned my eyes gently, and it smelled good. Like smoke should.
"Oh, hey, Tyler."
How the heck?
"Hey, Josh."
There he was, sitting on a log with a metal trashcan in front of him. It had fire inside of it, and something was most definitely burning. His eyes reflected the flames, and my heart wouldn't stop jumping at the sight of him. He was in blue skinny jeans, and a tank top that exposed his slight muscles gorgeously. My eyes raked them, and I felt like I was gonna start drooling. He had changed since we left school, and I realized that we hadn't gotten out that long ago.
"What're you doing?" I asked, walking over to him cautiously. I didn't know if he only wanted to talk to me during school, but I desperately hoped that wasn't the case.
"Burning stuff," he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. "It's fun. And I'm bored," he continued, standing. "Wanna help? I'm gonna roast marshmallows after I get rid of more stuff."
"Like what?" I asked curiously, following him as he walked back to his little barrel. There was already paper in it, and he grabbed some more from the stack next to his makeshift seat. Handing it to me with a small smile, he put his hands on that gorgeous hip of his, and I tried not to focus on his body as much as his words. But how could I? When he looked like that?
"Old worksheets and stuff that belongs to my old best friend." He said bluntly, and I nodded.
"Yeah, I'll help." I agreed. "What happened to you and your friend, by the way?"
"Another thing you have to earn the right to," he said, but kept smiling at me. His eyes kind of dulled a bit, and I felt bad for bringing something he didn't want to talk about up. It wasn't my place to ask that. At all. "Stick the paper in."
Listening to him, I reached my hand over the red and orange flames, before letting the white paper flutter down into them. The heat made me want to just drop it, but I just stopped to look at it be. Almost immediately, it was eaten up, and then progressed to pure disintegration. It had that yellow feeling about it, and ash sprouted through the air and towards us, making me move back a little.
"Why did you move to Ohio?" He asked me suddenly, his eyes locked in front of us. We were sitting now, and his legs were crossed in front of him.
Biting my lip, I contemplated some lie or some answer that made a bit of sense. But, instead, I stuck with the truth. "I have no idea."
Laughing, he rolled his eyes. "You don't know?"
"No."
"How do you not know?" Not letting me answer, he asked another question. "Where did you move from?"
"Seattle."
"You'd think I'd know this. I've know you for two days. I'm totally slacking," he joked, picking up a jacket from the ground. It wasn't his, because the shoulders on it were too small when he held it up.
"Is that his?" I asked, ignoring myself completely as far as not asking Josh about his past went.
"Yeah."
"What was his name?"
"Justin."
"I'm sorry I keep asking about it, I was just curious."
"Nothing wrong with curiosity," he said huskily, before walking over and staring at the normal black jacket with holes in it. Something in me thought he wasn't telling me something, but he usually never did. Hesitantly, he threw it in the fire, and stared after it for a couple seconds before rejoining me.
"Have you always lived here?" I asked him, my eyebrows raised.
"Actually, yeah. Good old Columbus." He smiled, shaking his head. "Born here, raised here. And I'm still figuring out if I even like it or not. Do you?
"It's okay," I replied, shrugging. "Came out here to explore and stuff."
"That's not true," he said automatically. "You looked upset."
Well, I wasn't expecting to see you. Of course I looked upset.
"I wasn't."
He just looked at me knowingly. "Okay, I was. My mom and I just got in an argument. No big deal."
"So you were taking a walk outside because you were mad?"
"Yep."
"See, that makes more since. If you're exploring a new town, you don't just go in the woods."
"Yeah, but I found you. So it's alright." I laughed, and he rolled his eyes again, but I could see his smile. "I should probably go, though. She's gonna worry."
"I live a couple miles away from here, you know," he said, standing up as I did. "We could hang out again if you wanted. Here, just give me your phone."
How was he always so confident?
Pulling the device from my pocket, I felt my hands start to sweat. He was going to give me his phone number. I was going to be able to talk to Josh outside of school.
"Alright," he said, handing it back to me, and smiling. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"T-tomorrow," I replied, and, because of my severe anxiety, I almost ran away from him. He didn't notice, though.
***
A/N: This is boring and unedited bUT IMPORTANT.