hi, here I am, interrupting all your New Years festivities with an update... ps help me with my Spanish, it's a mess
[MILO; BEST PART BY DANIEL CEASER]
TRIGGER WARNING: TALK OF SUICIDE CONTEMPLATION
FIFTY: when he's the one in need of saving.
Paul's family home was so welcoming, so family-oriented and he was so right about his mother being amazing at pretty much everything. She could sing, I heard as she moved about in the kitchen humming a tune I wasn't so familiar with... her mango bread was pretty great, I'd tasted it when Paul had snuck a piece before dinner and her decor was beautiful.
The house was beautiful, everything was so vibrant and there was always music playing... always. At some point, their stereo was turned all the way up, Paul and his mom dancing in the living room together, joy surrounding both of them and I sat back watching and thinking about how much this place resembled him, how I could see the little pieces he'd taken with him and how I could see his mother's bright smile in him.
Paul was a reflection of his home: loving, stable, and beautiful. Or, at least, that's what I thought until the music was turned down to barely noticeable a few hours later and dinner was spread out on the table. His mother seemed to be so excited that he came and visit that she made the biggest meal I'd ever seen and the table was spread beautifully. It seemed like a lot of food for just the immediate family but there wasn't just immediate family.
Around the table sat me, my boyfriend, his two brothers... his parents and his grandma as well as two women he called his aunts and a cousin that looked about thirteen and barely talked, dinner was actually my first time seeing him.
It was tense, the air and my boyfriend's body as well. His fingers were wrapped so tightly around his fork and his eyes stayed on his food. All of their eyes were on him and he was just staring at his plate, conversation had really died down since his Abuela had set out the food and I was sure it was weird.
Their family had Sunday dinner much like we did and I mean... The food was amazing but that wasn't the only reason I couldn't stop staring at my plate. Sitting at his dinner table, right across from his older brother, it felt like I was imposing. I'd been having an okay day but with all the food on my plate, I felt a bit too full too early, I also felt a little rude for not having finished anything. It had been quiet for so long, small snippets of conversation and Paul had noticed that my hand was clenching so hard there were marks in my palms.
Almost as if he himself wasn't uncomfortable, he went to comforting me. Grabbing my hand, he massaged my palm in comfort, uncurling my fingers until I was calm enough for him to place his hand in mine.
My heart was in my fucking knees.
A girl that looked around out age was wrestling an eight year old boy to the ground. She was pretty, a point a the tip of her nose, darker-warm skin with one or two moles on the high points of her face.
She had long, thick curly hair tied back in a ponytail, big brown eyes, high cheekbones.
Paul hugged her to his side, turned with a smile to me, "Jules this is my cousin Alexa," she grinned, "and this is Leo."
Leo was running around again, airplane in hand. Alexa tucked loose hair behind her ear. She looked black, actually, that was the first shock.
Paul leant into me, he almost looked confused at the look I gave him.
Thankfully, after a bit of movement, Paul's family had finally sparked up another conversation amongst themselves. It started somewhere about Pete's schoolwork and ended around Paul and I and I wasn't sure how to keep track of the fast words and the way they shifted in and out of Spanish but I was sure I'd heard Milo speak to Paul.
And I was sure that the room went insanely quiet after he'd let out a, "How's art going, Pablo?" You could hear his breathing and Paul's breathing and my breathing I was sure and my stomach tied itself into a knot because I knew how quickly this could all unravel. It was a simple inquiry, innocent really and I knew if any of his other relatives had asked, Paul wouldn't have really been affected.
But this was Milo.
"It's good, Miguel." Paul's voice was sharp, the words so finalized like he wanted that to be the end of that conversation but that, however, wasn't the case. I hadn't really seen him like this before, borderline angry and quiet... he'd never shown me this side of him so, of course, I didn't exactly know how to react and I think that showed in my actions. I was the guy who he was bringing to meet his parents, who knew how many other guys he brought to meet them? Who knew how they could interpret this? I was acting like an awkward house guest not like a boyfriend.
But I didn't know how I was supposed to act like his boyfriend when I didn't know how to react to any of this hostility or any of this animosity.
Paul went back to eating and it got even more awkward when he was sitting there so overzealous and preoccupied with his plate. He seemed to be making a big show of eating almost as if to show how done he was with the conversation but Milo kept pushing. "Still talented?"
"Still a douche bag?"
"Ey!" His father had boomed out at that. Paul got a lot of his looks from his mother but he definitely got his height from his father as did he get his smile but mostly, they both had this tendency of speaking with such authority and such conviction that everyone was invested. Something about him said he was important and I could really tell he was -someone that would be make or break for me- when he didn't even have to yell to cease any and all conversation that had spiked.
Nodding his head to the woman on his right, Paul's dad gave him a look that made him crumble and fall back into his seat.
"Lo siento, Abuela."
It was silent, Paul's father going back to his food and my hands had started to sweat at how nervous I was. This wasn't going well at all despite the wonderful meal his mother had prepared.
"Are you from Michigan?" That was Alexa, sat on the opposite side of me.
I nodded.
She nodded.
"So, Julian, is it?" His mother's voice was as sweet as her mango bread and it made me more anxious than anyone would believe. Just the thought of her being so nice made me worry that I'd be the one person she wouldn't like.
It was weird, just thinking of her not liking me made me so scared. What if she saw that I wasn't enough? Dinner had been going so awkwardly and my boyfriend was so visibly upset yet I hadn't done anything to help and I had been sitting right beside the entire conversation. He was sulking then, chewing on his food. I wasn't quite sure what it was but I think it was some kind of soup with corn and beans, a bread on the side and the soup had been kind of spicy but I seemed to be the only one that thought that.
It was good though, unlike anything I'd every tasted and his mother was a great cook... unlike mine, my mother could only cook essentials and my father could burn a pot just by boiling water.
"Yes, Ma'am." I tried to sound confident but my voice was kind of shaky.
She smiled at that though, her eyes crinkling at the sides and making me feel more comfortable, she had hospitality and unrivaled joy in that smile. "So, how did you meet?" And that was an awkward conversation to have since although we were a same-sex couple, it was already being an issue with his brother and our first meeting heavily involved my sexuality.
"At the mall." There was no way to tip toe around that and the clinking of cutlery on plates spiked my nerves. "I-I met him while he was filming."
"The 'Free Hugs' video." Paul spoke up, saving me when I wasn't quite sure what to say next, there was a wide smile on his face and he spoke calmly. "He looked like he needed one."
"That's sweet." Looking down, I tried to keep the smile from spreading too wide, a blush inching up my face and I sat back trying to stop myself from having an anxiety attack.
"He's cuter than Italy."
Italy must've been Nic.
"Look, I'm sorry," Milo had spoken up when I'd somewhat made a dent in my black-bean soup, his eyes were studying the side of Paul's head as he looked at me and only me. I hated the feeling of his whole family looking at me at that point, as if trying to figure out what was so interesting that he had to stare.
In a laugh, my boyfriend turned to his brother almost unbothered and went back to squeezing my hand under the table. "Whatever." It was a loose grip that he had although it tightened every so often, he always made sure not to hurt me.
"I'm really trying, Paul."
Rolling his eyes, he leaned back more, "Yeah, don't, matter of fact, stop talking to me. I really don't care about anything you say."
"Mijo, lead the prayer." Prayer? He was religious, I mean, I had a feeling that he believed in something but I wasn't exactly sure and the cross tattoo behind his ear was a hint but... so many people got cross tattoos and cross clothing when they had absolutely no religious attachments.
"Our Heavenly Father, we thank you for the nourishment you have blessed us with this evening. We thank you for allowing us to consume what you have provided, for bringing us all together and allowing me to spend this meal with my wonderful family and my beautiful boyfriend. And thank you for removing any negative energy that may consume me." This dinner was not going to go well and Paul made sure to remind with a snide comment on the end of his speech, "With your grace and presence, I wake every morning and I will continue to thank you for all the blessings that may come. Gracias, Amen."
"Amen." Everyone spoke in unison, awkwardness creeping up my spine, I hadn't said a prayer in so long and guilt was eating at me. My mother would hate me (more than she already did, that is).
"Paul, I haven't seen you in the church lately." I wasn't sure why I almost flinched at that. Paul was raised in a church home as well? We never talked about his religion, if we were being honest, and that might've been because of the fact that religion was such a sore topic for me. That wasn't fair to him especially hearing him talk to his father about it and being sincere.
"Life has been a bit hectic." He sheepishly smiled, his dad shaking his head disapprovingly. "I miss it."
Coughing, Milo spoke up. "Davie sure misses you." Milo was spitefully grinning when he brought that up, maybe Paul's snide comment had gotten to him because there was an underlying meaning to that, Paul glaring at him.
Why didn't he tell me about Davie? He seemed... important, "Davie?"
And Milo shrugged as if he didn't think it was something big, "Paul used to see the pastor's kid when no one was looking." It was silent, Paul turning to look at me and then at his parents, he crumbled under his dad's sharp gaze.
"I didn't date him." So he had a thing for pastor's kids? Nic wasn't the only person he was with? Nic wasn't his only serious relationship? Was there a reason for him to not tell me about the pastor's kid? I mean, I want exactly jealous but the thought of my boyfriend keeping so much from me made me a little upset. He didn't say much about his life, I was noticing, and if Davie wasn't a big thing, it would make me even more upset.
Thinking that it wasn't just big things, it was small stuff, I tried my best not to be upset but every single day I was sharing with him... he knew everything about me and the more I got to know his family, the more time I spent with them, the less confident I felt in our relationship.
"You didn't?" Milo seemed amused and it kind of bugged me, more so, it bugged Paul and I was slightly happy that he was getting confronted because that meant he had to talk about it at least, a little. "So I didn't catch you making out with him?"
"Miguel."
But despite how angry I was, Paul's dad was more angry and his voice had such bass to it, I was slightly scared. "Is that true, Pablo?" his voice was gravely, the look on his face was unreadable to me but everyone else at the table seemed to understand.
I think I was the only one that didn't really get the anger... that is, until I realized how angry my mother was with Jade when she ended up dating a guy that was the son of one of her friends, who knows how upset she'd be if I were dating someone from the church? "I made a lot of bad decisions, Dad," Paul defended, his voice a little exhausted, "We kissed, once, it wasn't anything." And I believed that but he still didn't tell me.
"What happened with Nico?" Milo asked, fork in mouth to hide what I could see as a smile.
"Nic."
"Yeah, whatever."
"Oh do you want the story of him destroying three of my pieces when I went to Spain or how he cheated on me for six months with his best friend?" Paul joked but there was only anger in his eyes.
"Damn." That was his cousin.
"He ghosted me while we lived together, just— just didn't come home for a week and then left me for a girl."
Silence.
His father eased back into conversation while passing potatoes my way. "Well. Julian," he started, nodding over at me, "you seem to have a good head on your shoulders."
Fuck. Was I supposed to say something?
"Thank you, sir."
"Pablito, your new boyfriend is nice. Nice and-and age appropriate."
":..Dad."
Giving him a look that indicated that they'd be talking about it later, his father turned his attention to me, almost as if he wanted some easy conversation. "Julian? Do you go to church?" And, I mean, that wasn't the best topic to talk about especially for easiness of a conversation but hoping that it would get Paul's parents to like me, I opened up.
"Not lately." Maybe if he saw that I was trying, he would trust me to tell me more.
His dad seemed interested and even if I didn't feel completely comfortable, I wasn't that affected, I could get through it. "Are you Christian?" and Paul's eyes widened, him almost choking on the food in his mouth.
"Dad, that's personal." And he looked slightly worried, it was understandable, my boyfriend understood that I might've been overwhelmed by that question. My stomach was churning and I didn't know how exactly to react but I knew that I wanted some dialogue -other than my boyfriend and his brother making snide comments- would be pretty beneficial.
"No, it's fine." I sighed, attempting to calm down enough to open up, "I-" coughing, I tried to talk clear enough. "I-I'm not really sure right now." I didn't give it much thought recently, my mom didn't make it easy to go back.
"Oh?"
"I grew up in a church home but I guess I've kind of been lost lately." Scratching my neck, I tried not to pay attention to how Paul that move was. Whenever he got nervous or became anxious, he scratched the back of his neck and started to stutter every once in a while.
"Nothing more forgiving than the lord."
And I used to believe that but when my mother didn't seem to care so much about me being apart of the family let alone me being apart of the church... my faith had been one of the only things that I could turn to but now, even though I had been pulled back together by more comfortable things in my life, I had been so lost. "Yeah." Doing things I loved, thankfully, had done a lot to console me but none of that was a replacement for my religion. "My mom doesn't really think that."
"Oh?"
And again, caring too much about how I'd react, Paul attempted to avert the conversation. "Jules, you don't have to."
I couldn't look his dad in the eyes, my eyes almost watering at the thought but, before I could overreact, I looked back up at him. "She's a pastor," trying to keep my mouth from becoming dry and my throat from closing up, I held tighter onto my boyfriend's hand. He wasn't reacting much, keeping calm and collected and I couldn't have been more thankful for that. "That's why I don't really go, she disagrees with my sexuality and it's the only church I've ever known."
He looked slightly in thought, eyes catching mine and he shrugged. "Well you go to worship." Paul's dad made a lot of sense and he stayed very nonchalant about the topic, it did help me refrain from any strain on myself mentally. "You go for your relationship with God, not her."
"My father says that too."
HIs father nodded, "he sounds like a wise man."
Coughing, Milo looked over at me, attempting to strike up another conversation despite how much his brother had been glaring at him. "So, are you in college?"
"In the fall, yes."
That seemed to confuse his mother, her turning towards me with a smile on her face that was nothing short of friendly. "Oh?" Her voice had a grin in it as she smoothed a cloth over her lap, "Are you doing a gap year like Paul?" how old did they assume I was? Did he not tell them?
"No, ma'am," I spoke, trying to be as polite as possible, hopefully, they wouldn't be disappointed at the age difference. "I graduate next weekend." Even saying that, it felt unreal, I was really graduating... smiling wide, I chewed my lip to keep calm but I couldn't stop the excitement I felt and neither could Paul. There was a look on his face that made my heart shake in my chest.
Continuing to eat, his father started the interrogation, the questions started with a simple: "What do you wanna do with your life?" and I was already sweating.
"He's amazing at soccer."
"How long have you guys been dating?"
"Around six months."
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
And Milo snorted, and under his breath, he commented. "Young."
"He's not that young," Paul defended, "Not even two years, you dated Bethany and she was three years older than you. And isn't your new girlfriend the same age?" The silence in the room was almost scary and I could really feel my hands becoming clammy at the things they were saying. There was such aggressiveness in their tones, it became extremely awkward for everyone around and his whole family seemed to feel the same as I did.
"She's legal." I was legal too.
Rolling his eyes, my boyfriend laughed, "She's eighteen and you're twenty-three. Wow a homophobe and a hypocrite." Sitting back, he crossed his arms and it only made me tense up more.
"Still live with your parents?" Raking a hand through his hair, Paul's oldest brother's laugh was even more condescending than his, "Talia doesn't live with her parents."
Coughing, I tried not to speak up and defend myself, I didn't want to seem confrontational but really, what was the problem still living at home? I had a job, I was sure that if I didn't move out right after graduation, I would contribute to the bills while building my own finances. My father made sure to let me know that I didn't have to grow up and move out as quick as I thought.
It made me uncomfortable to think about what his brother was saying, I didn't think he had a problem with me but bringing up my age and comparing me to some girl didn't sit right with me. Maybe he was aiming to insult Paul but it made me look bad to his family and that wasn't okay.
Paul understood that and chose to take a less... mature approach. "Talia can kiss my-"
"Paul."
Shutting his mouth before finishing, Paul locked eyes with Milo as his mom gave me a tight smile as if waiting for an explanation.
"As of right now..." that wasn't good enough, "I mean, I plan to move out after gra-graduation but I-I live with my dad right now, yeah."
She nodded then, "parents divorced?" His family was blunt, they didn't seem to take any precautions when talking about things that others would deem inappropriate and at that point, I wasn't sure if that was good or not.
"Mama."
I could talk about it though, it wasn't too far out of my comfortable zone. I needed to show him that I was willing to open up and show his family that I wasn't perfect at all but maybe I was good enough for Paul. "It's fine, y-yes they're separated." swallowing thickly, I spoke clearer than I expected, it wasn't going that bad yet, we were all having civilized conversations, Milo wasn't throwing cheap shots and Paul wasn't retaliating. I wondered when the last time they had dinner together was.
"You said you're going to college. Where?"
"He got into Michigan State on a scholarship." And I got accepted into UC Santa Barbara, my dream school, but I hadn't told him that yet.
That made me blush, I wasn't sure if it was the embarrassment of keeping it from him or the sweet smile he'd given me. "Yeah." Michigan State wasn't a bad school, at all, I was sure that Paul was proud and really, I was kind of proud of myself even if I didn't intend to go there.
"Your grades must be great." His father had complimented, nodding as if he were impressed, that was a good sign.
"They're okay."
But my boyfriend had more to say and he didn't take lightly to me down talking my achievements, I did Wouk hard, extremely hard on what I did and although I didn't have many self-deprecative thoughts anymore, I still found myself having to push to accept compliments and to compliment myself at times. "3.8 GPA and a great writer, he's really intelligent."
"Paul..."
And he shook his head at my attempt to stop him, his parents didn't need to think I was arrogant. "You are."
Attempting to steer the conversation away from me, I turned towards his mother, giving her the compliments that I had been thinking. Compliments about her home, asking her how long she'd been cooking, bonding with her and she seemed so open to it. I loved this time, talking to her and getting to know her, this was the reason that I wanted to come here in the first place and although it was a fight that led up to it, I was happy that I was here.
Even if him and Milo kept sneaking snide remarks.
At some point in a conversation about soccer with his dad, Milo had made his presence known again. It had been a solid ten minutes without any confrontation and I wasn't expecting any more... that is, until, he'd asked a blunt question that warranted a reply. "Are you really gay?"
"Excuse me?" I'd asked, trying to find humor in what he was saying, my sexuality was something that I had a tough time with and I didn't expect for him to doubt it. Did I give off signs that I wasn't 100% gay? Was that where Paul's speculations and uncertainty came from in certain aspects of our relationship? I wasn't quite sure how to answer questions like this.
Milo looked a little taken back maybe because he hadn't expected me to have a follow up question, he didn't seem to want to repeat himself as Paul's eyes glared daggers into his forehead. "I'm sorry, you just seem so masculine and-"
Seeing that Paul had something to say in retaliation, Paul's dad went to speak up, "In Milo's defense, Paul's last boyfriend was-"
And I knew id get compared to Paul's exes, I was okay with it, "Julian isn't like that." He wasn't though, maybe because it had been a problem between us before, I knew that they were looking out for him but maybe he didn't understand that. Turning towards his older brother, he tilted his head as if daring him to challenge that. "And, really, its none of your business anyways."
"It's okay," trying to settle this before it became a big thing, I spoke up and instantly regretted it, not knowing what to say. "I, uh, I'm uh-" And it felt wrong to tell them I was fully gay, even if it wasn't any of their business, "I'm bisexual." Instantly, I wanted to scream at the judgmental gaze his father had tried to hide and the way Paul's hand stuttered in mine.
That wasn't the thing to say, it really wasn't and I hated how much that opened the conversation to doubt in our relationship. His ex was 'bisexual' and his ex cheated on him, I ruined any chance of them fully trusting me with their son.
"You're okay with that?" His dad had questioned and I saw where that was coming from even if it did make me feel bad.
Paul nodded, stone-faced and I knew we had some things to talk about. "We communicate more than Nic and I ever did and I trust him."
And trying to save this from turning into an awkward dinner where they'd warn him about me afterwards, I tried to vocalize how much I did care about him and us. "He's a great guy." That caught Paul's attention and I wanted to make sure they knew I meant it so I took a breath and used all my strength to speak clearly. "Always there for me, especially when things were hard and he's understanding. We're understanding and patient with each other, we have... trust in our relationship and I know I'm not perfect but I would never treat him like that."
Nodding, Paul bit his lip, speaking up to further defend me. "He's never been disrespectful, he's showed interest in us lasting a long time, he cares about me and-"
"And I love you." And I did, I loved him so much.
"Really?" Milo questioned, "Love's a strong word." And I feel like I was the only one who understood where Paul's frustration was coming from. The rest of his family paid no mind to what was said and it irritated me slightly.
Trying not to sound too annoyed, I furrowed my brows, "You really don't wanna see him happy?" Cause normal people wouldn't be questioning my love for someone when they weren't even in the relationship.
"I wanna see him in a stable relationship."
Paul rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on my hand, not once had he let go throughout this dinner and I wasn't sure what would happen if I did. "Stop acting like you actually care about anything that has to do with me."
And milo shrugged, "We need to hang out more." As if he weren't just doubting our relationship, comparing it to his, and acting like he wasn't sure why Paul was getting upset. I could see my boyfriend becoming more and more irritated as the night progressed.
"You know why we don't."
"I've changed."
Paul laughed, "Really?" I could kind of tell why he didn't want to stay the night before and why he didn't want Milo to talk to me, I could see it now. There was so much bad blood between them and he didn't want me to be involved. I didn't want to be involved."Cause you hated me."
As if that were absurd, Milo shrugged it off, reaching for more bread that was in the middle of the table. "I didn't hate you." And he was stopped by Paul's hand shooting out and grabbing his wrist, forcing him to look back at him.
"You did." At the way I tensed up, my boyfriend pushed his brother's arm away, throwing it back at him and I tried not to react too much. "And I hated you too."
His father scoffed, looking in between them as if he were disappointed with what he was seeing. "Stop acting like this, you guys haven't seen each other in a year." A year? They hadn't seen each other in a year? Is that why Paul was so closed off on arrival, when he'd seen Milo? He didn't expect him to be there at all, they hadn't seen each other in a year.
"I was trying to make it two." He spoke under his breath, hostility in his voice as he pulled his hand out my grasp and crossed his arms, looking off to the side and sinking into his chair in embarrassment of being called out by his dad.
"Don't make a scene, no en frente de la abuela"
And that made him upset as he looked at his brother with a look of disgust. "You didn't have a problem making a scene before." Shrugging, he smacked his teeth. "Not in front of Pete."
"Paul..."
"The coffee table? Does that ring a bell."
It didn't ring any bells for me but it made so much sense in Milo's eyes, I could tell. Almost instantly his face distorted in a look I hadn't seen before, I was sure it was remorse when a sullen, "I'm sorry," left his lips.
But Paul was stubborn, unforgiving and his brown eyes were so hard and cold, I could slowly see his joy slipping. "You're not." And in a language I wasn't familiar with, he started to speak nonchalantly. I hadn't heard Paul speak much Spanish before but it fit perfectly with his tongue, "Sé que me odias, simplemente detente."
Shaking his head Milo stood his ground, leaning forward as if that would give his argument more conviction. "I don't, it was an accident."
"You do." Their voices were getting louder, I could see Pete putting his head in his hands in frustration and I wondered how many times they'd argued in front of their entire family. Their parents weren't saying much, letting them get this anger out and I could see how much bottled up frustration was scratching at Paul's surface. "I hate you too, don't worry."
"I don't know what you're talking about, stop."
"Don't lie, Milo." He was starting to shake, a sardonic smile on his face and I knew he'd loose it any minute.
Trying to make him relax a bit, I pulled his hand back into mine only for him to shake me off. "Baby..."
Milo stood at that, "I'm gonna go and let you calm down." And he was retreating, almost out the room when Paul spoke clear and loud, eyes shut and the room silent.
"Tell me you hate me because I'm gay. Why don't you tell me all the shit you told me when they weren't there?" No one spoke, it was quiet and my boyfriend kept his trembling hand on his fork, twisting it in his food almost as if he were trying to calm down and I would've believed it wasn't affecting him if he didn't have such a shake in his voice. "How you wished I'd fucking die, how you said you'd kill me if I brought someone home."
"Paul, don't do this." He was trying to diffuse the situation when their parents looked at their eldest son, disbelief on their faces. Paul's stone cold eyes snapped open and he was just staring at nothing in that moment. I didn't know what to do.
"You acting different cause I'm fuckin' stepping to you, bro?"
"Baby—"
"Tell them!" There was anger in his voice then although his stance stayed languid. "Tell them why Pete has anxiety, fucking PTSD, and why I have that scar and why I really moved out. Don't feed them lies about how we're on good terms now and don't smile in my face like nothing happened!" He was trying not to cry, that much I could tell but the reasoning was space and hazy and I wasn't sure what they were talking about, "I-I hate you, I hate what you did to me and us, I hate that I felt so ashamed of myself for so long-"
And he dropped a bomb, "I almost killed myself... Do you hear me? I almost killed myself and you were the reason! You were always the fucking reason and I wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for someone who stepped in your place as a brother."
I couldn't breathe, I couldn't believe it, I was stuck, speechless. I couldn't imagine Paul going though anything like that and my air was knocked out of my lungs. I couldn't breathe.
"You know what happened when I moved out? I was outed a-and I stopped respecting myself and..." He was yelling then, tripping over his words as he lurched out of his seat, turning to meet eyes with his brother and I could feel heat radiating off of him, body moving too fast for me to catch. "And I did something really stupid that I really regret but you don't care." I wasn't sure what happened next but he was screaming, tears welling in his eyes and I tried to calm him down, holding his hand to make sure he didn't go too far. "¡Traté de matarme por ti! Te odio, con todo en mí, te odio. ¡Ojalá nunca hubiera nacido en esta maldita familia! "
I didn't understand what they were saying, words in Spanish and way too fast for me to but all I cared about was pulling him back but not touching him too much because last time I did...
Milo shook his head once before closing his eyes and stuttering and then he tried again... and again, I saw the same sincerity he had when we were in the kitchen together. "Usted no quiere decir eso... I-I thought we were past this, I've changed." I regret not paying enough attention because my boyfriend had yanked himself away from me and pushing Milo over, anger fueling him and I couldn't move fast enough. I hadn't seen him this violent, he was so against it but this wasn't that same Paul, this was him when he'd gotten past any breaking point and I didn't know what to do.
"Pablo, calm down!" Pete and Paul's cousin had both stood, pulling the two apart as Paul advanced forward on the boy on the ground and I had never seen him like that, ever. Even meeting Calum, he was calm and collected but there was so much fire in his eyes and his tongue spit acid and words I had never heard him say. He didn't have any intention on hitting Milo, I could see that in the way he stood grounded but I didn't know Milo enough to know whether or not his actions would be violent.
But Paul wouldn't stop despite how much they were trying to diffuse him and the situation. His brother had gotten up then, eyes dark and he moved forward, looming over Paul.
"Fuckyou!" Paul was so angry then, his words colliding and his body was so tense, trying to break out of the hold they had him in and snapping out of my confusion, I stood, trying to make sure he was okay. Pete had let go when Milo came closer, instantly pushing him back into a different room and I had room to slide in his previous space holding Paul's wrist. I could see the aggression disappating, tears streaming down his face and I tried to give him some space to breathe. Gently tugging him towards me, his cousin let go, noticing that I had him and Paul curled into my body, still shaking.
With hushed words, I pulled my boyfriend closer, trying to stop him, it was almost as if he wasn't there, his emotions taking over to a point where he was almost falling over trying to get away. Keeping him in place, I let him calm down a bit, his breathing harsh and everyone was staring at his mother as she cried.
"ay dios, oh dios mio."
: : :
His eyes were glassy for what seemed like hours. After getting him into his room, I let him lay down by himself for a while as I ran a shower for him in which he shook his head and told me to take it. Not wanting to argue, I took a shower and let him cool down a bit, entering the room after only to catch him laying by himself under the covers just... spaced out. His eyes were open as he just stared at the wall in front of him and it was worse than before. His yelling was bad but his quiet reserved mood, his shutting down had to be the scariest.
"Paul." I called, watching as that made his shaky breathing hitch, "Baby." Sitting carefully on the bed, I moved closer and placed my hand over his skin, trying to provide comfort in any way. "Hey, baby..." Thankfully, he pushed back into my skin, sitting up to push me to lay back, him cuddling into my chest.
I loved wrapping my arms around him so thats what I did and I was slightly more confident cause he spoke then, his voice came out a bit hoarse but at least he was speaking. I didn't expect the first thing he said to be a query about my state. "You okay?"
"Me?" This wasn't about me, I wasn't the one in pain, I wasn't the one that needed to be comforted. "Paul, you're shaking. Tell me what happened." Why did he always feel the need to be a support system? He was hurting, it was him who was crying so hard earlier and him who cursed out his brother and him who-
"I didn't want that to happen." he was stammering, trying to explain himself and console me, his hands were wiping away tears I didn't even know I was spilling. My boyfriend had actually tried to kill himself. "I didn't mean to do a-any of that."
"I know, baby." But he needed to get that out, he needed to talk about it and I wasn't gonna let him be there for me when it was so selfish of me to cry, he wasn't supposed to feel as if he always needed to be the one together. He could fall apart at times, it was okay for him to be the one in need of a rock, in need of saving. It was okay for him to not always be together.
And he was breaking down, trying to be strong, "I ruined it, they were just supposed to meet you and s-see how much I- they were supposed to understand why I..." He'd stopped himself at that, playing with the collar of my shirt."I wanted to show them that you're amazing and I ruined it. I'm sorry."
"Its okay," pushing a hand through his curly hair, I sat up a bit, letting him settle more in my lap. I wanted him to feel as protected as I did when he held me this way so tightening my grip, I brushed my hand down his arm in that way he did and I kissed his hair the same way he did me and I tried to show him how much I loved him without saying it. His family could meet me again, his mental health was way more important than my feelings.
"Its not, that was a mess."
Shrugging, I tried to let him know that it wasn't as big a deal as he was thinking it was. Who cared how they felt about me? They needed to be thinking about how much came out that night, they needed to pay attention to what Paul had said and they needed to talk about it before they event thought about me and Paul's relationship. "I mean, there's always second impressions." It wasn't about me and I wasn't going to make it about me.
"I'm sorry." He let out again, he'd apologized so many times since and he didn't need to feel so remorseful. I cared about him and I wanted him to tell me.
"Paul... You have to tell me, baby." I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to tell me things like this.
And he told me. "I tried to kill myself." Staying quiet, I tightened my hold, repeating the motions of combing my fingers through his hair and caressing his skin softly before kissing his forehead. I wanted him to feel loved and to feel supported as I gave him time to talk and space to fill in.
"But then again, who hasn't?" He was belittling his experiences then, thinking about others and lessening the blow for me and that wasn't okay. He needed to be okay taking attention for himself, I was horrible at that too but with Paul, it was like he never wanted anything to be about him. He always made it a thing to point out how much worse other people had it, always reverted into a habit of comforting others.
He put everyone above himself and he shrugged, "It's like some unspoken thing in the LGBT+ community that we all go through at some point of realizing your sexuality and coming out and-"
"Paul?"
Smiling stiffly, he met my eyes and I could tell it was hard for him to open up let alone talk about his own experiences. "Yeah?"
"You don't always have to be strong."
And he let out a shaky sigh, breath on my shoulder and tears in my neck as he cried. It was almost as if letting him know that was more than enough to have him cracking again. His words rushed out at that, sick of being suppressed so long and he opened up. "They found out I'm gay and he... H-he hated me for it and the scar is from him punching me and I fell into our coffee table, I have a long scar on the back of my leg and the inside of my arm. Pete was there and I moved out after that and in with the guys a-and I was in a really bad place."
"Paul-"
He shook his head, almost as if he knew once he stopped he wouldn't start again and I knew that but I wanted him to pace himself. "I had problems and I slept with everyone and I made bad decisions, I hurt so many people a-and then-" stopping, he shook his head and I didn't want to diagnose him, he needed to talk to someone and I wanted to be that person. "I'm not depressed, I've never been, I just... I couldn't do it anymore, it hurt so much, Jules. I just-" Broke down.
His voice was low then, almost a whisper and I avoided closing my eyes because every time I did, I saw him in pain again. "Brandon found me about to shoot myself with his dad's handgun." I had to hold back how bad that made my heart hurt.
And I wasn't sure if my, "You don't have to," was for his sake or mine but he didn't pay much attention.
"I was gonna kill myself that night, I wanted to so bad." This was something I could relate to partially but I'd only thought of it twice and shut it down, my suicidal thoughts were brief and they terrified me but this man... this beautiful human that I had fallen in love with, he almost went through with it. I was so thankful for Brandon, he didn't even know. "I regretted it and immediately went into counseling that his parents paid for, that's why I get so annoyed when you're jealous of him cause he's like my brother, he was there for me when no one else was, him and Lanny..."
He was crying then, thinking about his friends and I regretted ever saying anything bad about Brandon, ever getting jealous of him. "They mean so much to me, they've done so much for me." I could tell that was true and I owed them, from then on, I wanted to get closer to Brandon, show him that I was grateful.
"I started going to therapy a-and I met Nic at some kickback the guys had and I got better and he cheated on me when I was applying for colleges but I got over it and I got into a really good college and I'm really happy with you, happier than I've ever been."
And I wanted to look him in his pretty brown eyes but they were closed and his head was shoved in my neck so pulling him back, I gave him a small smile. "Why're you hiding?" Giving that cute pout he had, I watched as he covered his face with his hands and wiped away his tears. "Hey, no, don't do that. You've gotta let it out, okay? It's okay if you wanna cry."
"I'm sorry."
He had absolutely nothing to apologize for. "For what?"
"I don't know." Finally looking at me, there were no more tears in his eyes and we were both sitting there staring at each other. "Not telling you? Fucking up dinner?"
"Come here."
And reluctantly, he curled back into me, allowing me to hold him but there was something in his actions that showed that he was somewhat against the way we'd switched roles. "I'm supposed to be the one protecting you." He sighed.
"No, you're my boyfriend, not my bodyguard." That was what was wrong with his thinking, he thought there was something wrong with me taking care of him, he was embarrassed. We were equals, he'd made sure I knew that there was nothing wrong with needing comfort, why didn't he take his own advice? "This is a relationship and in relationships, we help each other, we comfort and we protect each other."
His feelings were way more warranted than he thought and he was deflecting. "I'm being stupid."
Shaking my head, I reminded him of his own words. He'd forgotten them recently, I was sure but a while back he told me that I wasn't selfish for needing to be held every once in a while and he needed to know I took that to heart. Paul was way more shattered than I had thought, he wasn't as put together as everyone assumed, he was human after all. "I promised that I was gonna hold you when you were sad. Tada, you're sad."
And he smiled that Paul smile of his and I knew we were gonna be okay. "I don't think I could've done this without you." He sighed, relaxing further, we had been through so much that day but I couldn't have been happier that it opened a new dialogue for us to have. We were getting closer, "You mean more to me than you know."
"I love you."
Kissing my lips, he held me closer and I could feel him becoming drowsy as I was. "Thank you."
"For?" I wasn't quite sure what I did but I knew I was thankful for his lips on mine, thankful that he had opened up, thankful that he decided to heal beside me.
"Not being upset with me, being patient, caring about me."
"Shut up and come here." There was still so much we needed to talk about, so much I didn't know about him but I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to tell me when he wanted to and he was way too exhausted and drained at that moment. We'd talk about it more when he didn't look so tired with tear tracks on his face. "What are these?" I'd changed the subject when I had him curled into my body, laying his head on my chest and tracing my skin with little circles.
He didn't know what I was pointing to for a while and he smiled sadly when he noticed it was the inside of his wrist. There were exactly seven black lines tattooed up his arm and a small little infinity tattoo at the top. He looked at them, biting his lip and I didn't think he was gonna tell me, that is, until he let out a shaky breath. "Everytime I wanted to hurt myself, I got a tattoo, it's not as dangerous or as painful as actually scarring myself." He sighed, putting his arm back down on my chest, "Didn't wanna hurt my family or myself."
And I didn't know what to say besides, "Thank you." For? I wasn't sure but there was something in me that was so grateful. For him being there, for him staying strong, for him not taking his life, for being here and making a change and just being a positive light in the world.
For allowing me to love him. I would always be grateful for that.
A/N:
I LOVE WRITING SELF REFLECTIVE MOMENTS AND HEALING MOMENTS AND LOVE MOMENTS. THANK YOU FOR STICKING BY ME WITH THIS BOOK AND THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING 2017 HAS BRUNG ME, I LOOK FORWARD TO ENTERING A NEW YEAR WITH YOU GUYS.
HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES.
UPDATED: JANUARY 1ST, 2018.