I don't know how I got here.
It's 3AM, I have school tomorrow, and I'm wasting my life away, constantly swapping between two tabs.
Tab #1: A shitty excuse for a flash game that I go to every now and then when I'm feeling stressed. I have no idea what the objective is, I have no idea what the controls are, but something about just smashing random keys and then watching as something random happens is calming.
I feel like it's a pretty good metaphor for my life at the moment. I don't know what the controls are, but sometimes key-smashing is the only thing that gets shit done. Whether or not that shit is good or not is entirely up to my luck, of which I have none. Sometimes when I slam my head against the keyboard, something good happens that leads me closer to the goal (though I have no idea what that goal is) and I'll try to recreate whatever I just did, so that something good can happen again, but I'd already forgotten what key I pressed.
Yeah. This whole situation is just like that.
Tab #2: One of those websites that looked oddly scholarly, focusing on the MBTI personalities, because like I said, any knowledge I had of it was completely down the drain. I've already opened the "INFP" tab so see what the fuck Jeremy is all about, but every time I look at how long the article was I got intimidated and went back to "playing" the shitty flash game.
And honestly, it's stupid. It really is. Figuring out Jeremy's personality was like my number one objective these last few days, and now I have a stupid website that may or may not answer some of my stupid questions, yet here I was, avoiding it as much as possible.
It felt wrong reading about it, if that even made sense. I'd open the article and then I'd feel some sense of wrongness well up in my throat and I'd instantly close it again. I can't place what the feeling is, though. All I know is it makes my stomach churn and it's made me avoid this web page for the last three hours.
So I made a silent deal with myself. I set a timer for five minutes, and said I'd read it without getting distracted for that period of time, and see if I can gather anything from it. If not, then I go to bed, if yes, then I keep reading. Alright, I can do that. Only five minutes, right?
I opened the article and clenched my teeth, the churning stomach feeling coming back. I start the timer and tried to skim read, holding on to any sentences that told me anything.
One of things the website put a lot of emphasis on was the "INFP's are very optimistic!" part, which I could kinda see? i mean, he has cancer and he's dealing with that pretty well. But then again he seemed really pessimistic about the whole us "dating" situation. I mean, if he was optimistic, would he really be assuming I hate him just because I kinda lied about being romantically attracted to him? That's pretty much the opposite of optimistic isn't it?
Then I went to the next paragraph that said that INFP's take things too personally. Oh. Oops. My bad.
Okay, okay, everything seems to line up, so maybe this isn't a total waste and maybe I will get actual knowledge from this stupid website.
One of the points were: "....they are difficult to get to know." Yeah, you got that right.
Another one, much to my dismay, said: "INFPs are private, reserved and self-conscious." In other words: What the fuck did I get myself into?
After reading through the entire article, (completely ignoring the timer, I might add) I felt like I had at least a tiny bit more information on Jeremy. That's something, right? I'm not clueless anymore.
I was so upset with the guy for being so closed off, but now I know it's actually his fucking personality and not just a bad habit. So that made me feel guilty. Maybe Jeremy was opening up to me and I just refused to acknowledge it because it wasn't enough to me for some moronic reason.
I look down at my phone. Would messaging Jake something right now be overboard? Would that be weird? Would that be creepy?
The answer is D) All of the above.
However, I did it anyway because it was 3am and my body was moving without any of my brain's permission. This was beginning to be such a problem to the point that I doubted that I even still had brain.
me: dear god jake i am a mess lord save us all
jakeyd: it is 3am
me: yes i am aware
jakeyd: good because that raises the question of why the fuck u texting me
me: that's a good question you just raised but it cancels out because i have an answer
jakeyd: that answer being?
me: im having boy troubles :((((
jakeyd: his dead body cant fit in your closet kinda troubles or u like him kinda troubles
me: neither
jakeyd: oh no
me: okay i need to tell you about jeremy
jakeyd: chloe told me everything
me: sHE WHAT
me: THAT SLIMY SON OF A BITCH
jakeyd: she was pissed
me: uh yeha and so was i now please listen to me
me: i've made it my mission to be jeremy's friend because he has zero
me: or well i'm sure he has a few but i doubt they're any good with emotional support which is what he needs
jakeyd: why would he need emotional support?
me: ???? he has cancer u knobbin
jakeyd: WHAT
jakeyd: CHLOE DID NOT TELL ME THAT
jakeyd: OH MY GOD MICHAEL YOU MADE A CANCER KID CRY YOU DONE FUCKED
me: shut ur fuckin mouth!!!
me: i already feel bad enough cmon man
me: also dont call him a cancer kid for the love of god
jakeyd: right right sorry
jakeyd: but like this kid has cancer he probably planned his whole life in front of him and now all of thats gone and you made him fuckingg cry whata the fucnk sksksksksksk
Whatever Jake just tried to send me was complete gibberish, but I could still somehow make it out and I actually thought about it for a moment:
He said how much he liked gardening, does that mean he sleeps every night thinking one day soon he'll never be able to garden again? He said he liked stars, so does that mean he keeps on thinking about how he's never going to be able to see them again soon? What about his cat? His cat who, according to him is "a bitch who refuses to climb off the roof." When Jeremy dies what would happen to the cat? What would happen to his dad? What would happen to Chloe? What would happen to me?
jakeyd: you've been quiet
jakeyd: sorry sorry i know it isnt your fault its not like you tried to make him cry
jakeyd: dude breathe
jakeyd: you still with me?
I sighed.
me: sorry just wow
me: dude i really desperately need to make this kid happy before he dies if i don't it's going to drive me fucking insane
me: if i make him cry again it'll follow me to my grave i can't deal with that
jakeyd: jesus fucking christ dude
jakeyd: thats heavy
jakeyd: fucjking hell does jeremy know u refer to him as "the kid i need to make happy before he dies" because i'm pretty sure he wouldn't be happy about that
me: god you're right
jakeyd: cancer can be cured. you know that right? you numpty!!!
jakeyd: there's even a big chance that jeremy wont die i mean he has a lot of treatments and surgeries to his disposable
jakeyd: trust me on this dude he'll be fine
me: maybe he will be
I smile for a minute before it disappeared, realizing what was at stake.
me: but the point is that he isn't right now
me: listen dude thanks for talking to me i feel like this has lifted a mild weight off my shoulders.
jakeyd: dude anytime
jakeyd: please get some sleep though
jakeyd: dont stress about jeremy too much okay like i said he's even been talking about a surgery that the doctors said has like a million percent chance of helping him
jakeyd: okay maybe thats an exaggeration but still! a big chance! maybe you and jeremy can even be normal friends
me: yeah
me: yeah you're right
me: i shouldn't let this guy take over my life or anything
me: i mean its not like i even care about him or anything haha
jakeyd: yeah you keep telling yourself that
I shut off my phone after that, shutting my laptop and lying down on my bed, looking up at the ceiling, acutely aware of every little sound around me.
And my mind wanders back to Jeremy.
He thinks we're friends, and I like to think that I think so too, but I have my doubts. This wasn't meant to happen. My intention was to go to his house once, make him feel a bit better, apologize for the "incident" all those years ago, then I'd go home and that'd be it.
Yet here I am.
It's not like I'm tired of Jeremy. Talking to him made me happy, actually. Like really happy. He talked more than he did when we were kids, and God, I'm really fucking glad he does.
I'm just tired of the emotional baggage that comes with him. Talking to someone and being so aware of the fact that they have a life-threatening illness is fucking terrifying. I'll wake up every morning wondering if he's alive. Hell, I'm wondering that exact thing right now.
But maybe,
Just maybe,
It's worth it.