DAY 11 26/03-18

I have come to the conclusion that nobody really is alive just like that. There is just certain people that wants to be, that adapts their life to feel alive. Maybe you're just dead altogether, really.

° ° °

This whole day I have lived in some kind of denial. Sitting, numb in my bed, pen in my hand from the morning, not wanting to write anything more than I already have. What is there more to say? I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I don't know what is reality, I don't know what is and what is not, I don't know which direction the Earth is turning in. In my mind now, left and right doesn't exist to me anymore. There is no difference in anything for me right now.

And now Shiro has entered my room. Somewhere distant I can hear him say that Lance is here. Lance is here, should I send him away? When did the doorbell ring? Is it already that late? Did school already end for them? I'm sending him away, Shiro says, I think, but if I'm not wrong, I hear myself say no. No, let him in. I think that is the first thing I have uttered this whole day. It feels strange to talk. It's like I'm slowly, very slowly, being pulled back into my body, but I'm not quiet there yet. My soul still exists somewhere above. Half of it, at least.

I need something, anything, to keep me alive. I don't want to walk around being dead. I don't care what it is, who it is. I don't care if it works or not, if I hate this person or not. I don't believe in the slightest that Lance can make the numbness go away. Not at all. Maybe he will make it worse, for all I know. It doesn't even hurt in my chest anymore. That's good. Maybe it's good if I stay numb.

Shiro has exited. I need to keep track on everything going on around me because I can't process things fast. There is a malfunction in my brain.

Lance has entered my room. He's standing there, in his plain attire he wore the first day we met, and he has his hands tucked in his pockets, rocking on his heels awkwardly. I have no reaction towards his presence to offer him. He doesn't seem to notice that.

"I'm surprised you even let me in", he laughs uncomfortably, looking down at his feet. Why is he laughing? Why is he laughing when the world is turning the other way?

When he's met with only silence, he looks up at me, meeting my eyes. Seeing my hollow gaze must terrify him. He's instantly moving forward, but then stopping like he's not certain he can do that yet. Like he's unsure as to what to do seeing our current relationship. I give him no sign to move forward or stay in his place. He'll have to figure this out himself. Because I'm not sure myself. I don't know anything anymore.

"Buddy, are you... are you okay?" But then he's like fuck it. He takes two more steps forward until there is just one meter apart from us. Something in his eyes tells me he wants to do more, but he'll have to build up a new kind of courage to do that. It may take a little while.

"Hey man, what's wrong? You're scaring me a little", he admits. But he doesn't move forward again. He's not brave enough to do that yet.

"I lied to you", is what I say. Because, why care about anything now? I see no difference in life anymore. There isn't anything bad and anything good. I can do whatever I want know. I don't care. I can tell him everything, here an now. But I don't. Instead I just say: "I lied to you, Lance."

A dark shadow casts over his face. His whole face is shadowed, like he really didn't get any sleep and stayed up all night, letting every hurtful thing we said to each other play in his head. Like he looked over the movie over and over again, playing those most hurtful scenes like he really wanted to understand the plot better, because he couldn't understand why these two protagonists was arguing. Like he didn't know the meaning behind their fights, and was wondering how their story would end.

"What are you talking about, Keith?" He dared to move a tad closer. He's so close now, just one more step and he will be sitting on my bed. He can then reach for me. The thought comforts me. There is someone that can reach for me. It's something real in that. I can reach or him, and I will feel his touch, because that's a reminder of being alive.

"I lied to you, Lance", I say again and something in my voice must have made him sat down on my bed, one of his legs dangling down and the other placed on top of mine. It gives me more words to utter. "My parents aren't celebrating their anniversary. This isn't where I temporarily live. This is where I have lived since I can remember. I lied, Lance. They say that dad's dead. I can't believe them. He's not. He can't be. He hasn't answered my questions yet." My voice cracks, and I get woozy, like all this thought is making everything spin so fast without me really noticing it. But I still feel nothing at all. "He's alive. I know it. He has to answer my questions. I need to ask him why he left." Lance is gaping at me. "You know, he left. Mom did too. I don't know why. I really don't. It's killing me. Aren't they realizing that? I need to ask them why... I need to know why... I..."

My words get muffled by a shoulder. Lance is shaking. No. I am. I didn't realize that. I shaking against him, and he presses our chest together hard, and I feel his heart beat. He is alive. He's reminding me that he is. I don't know if I am. I wonder if Lance can tell me if I am or not. I can't feel it but I hear that I'm breathing. Harshly, against his shoulder, letting his hands snake up against my back. The touch, that is a sign of aliveness. We have reached each other, after all. It soothes me.

"Oh my God, Keith..." Lance voice sounds pained. Is he in pain? Why? I nuzzle my face farther into him without even being fully aware of it. I breathe in. It smells like a cheap laundry detergent mixed with something more salty. I decide that I love that smell. "Keith... It's not fair. It's not fair that you're the one suffering this much. I'm so incredibly sorry for that."

I realize, there is a difference in life after all. A difference in death and aliveness. I think Lance just reminded me of that.

° ° °

I can't keep track of time anymore. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't really matter for how long we have been laying like this for. With Lance hugging my side, his long leg thrown over my legs, the other tangled in mine, his arm over my chest, hugging me like he finally caught the bird, and it didn't try to fly away this time. It was happy to stay in his hands, to let him take care of it. There is no counter in my head to keep track of how many times our breathes get in sync. All I know is that we are breathing. In sync. Filling the space of my room with possibilities and thoughts.

I know that this is a moment of vulnerability. We're both so vulnerable right now, but that's okay. I think it's only now that I realize that it's okay to be vulnerable. It's makes you real, right?

"Sometimes I wonder what your smell would be like", Lance says, tracing his finger over my chest, drawing those shapes again, creating a new kind of pattern. I try to figure out what pattern he has created now as I look up at the ceiling. "Now I know, and I can't get enough of it."

I focus on his fingers, on the tingling feeling inside my stomach; so foreign, so strange, but not bad. I welcome it. He has managed to make me feel something. Something this entire day. I scoot closer to him and he stops breathing for a second. I look down at him because he stopped creating shapes and he managed to break the sync. He looks up at me and our eyes lock. The stars on his nose are blinking. It lights up the universe again, and I see it. It lights his eyes a bright blue.

"Keith...", he says, but stops there. We just look at each other, and I notice that I stopped breathing too. But that doesn't matter anymore. Because something is happening, whatever it is. It's washing a heat wave over me, laying itself like a blanket over me. It's warm all around me, like a fire in the pit of my stomach, spreading its heat to every possible place in my body.

"Keith", he says again and his voice is husky, low. It does things to my feelings that shouldn't be allowed. "I think I have a crush on you. And it terrifies me."

I gasp. The fire is expanding. It burns all my insides. It burns any sign of oxygen in my body until I can't breathe, but it's a good kind of burn. It makes me so alive. In this moment nothing really matters except the fire in my stomach and the galaxy on Lance's face. Because the stars gave me possibilities. They failed to shine up some of the most darkest moments of my life, but now they're here, offering me possibilities as an apology. I take them.

"W-why?" I stutter out. "Why... does it t-terrify you?"

I watch Lance take an experimental breath, like he's testing if he can. "Because... Because you're so goddamn real. And that's what terrifies me."

Something explodes in my stomach, like the fire just got too big. It turned into a whole forest fire, burning all the trees to aches. I feel my lips part, letting some of the smoke get out. It warms my face, painting it red with emotions. Lance blinks up at me, and if I'm not mistaken, his face is even redder. Does he have that fire in his stomach too?

"You... You act so real, you look so real... I want you so bad to be real, Keith."

And I decide; I love that sentence. I love it so, so, much. I want to capture it in my hands just to look at it and remind myself that it's there. That I really got to hear that sentence. I stare at Lance and he looks scared of the feelings he feels, like it's new to him too. It's new to the both of us. That's what terrified the both of us. We weren't familiar with the feelings we experienced, so we denied them. Denied them to a point where everything just burst. A crush is a crush, is what Shiro once told me. I didn't really pay much attention to that because I kept telling myself that I didn't get crushes. It was ridiculous to me. But now I take that in consideration. A crush is a crush after all. It just happens naturally. And even though it may terrify you, and you try to deny it, it's still there. Just like with Shiro. He kept denying his crush for Matt, but it was still there. No phone calls to Allura could change that.

It's the same with me and Lance. I pushed him away, but it's just a natural habit for me. I push everyone away, crush or not. But this time I kept denying to myself that it was something more to that. Something new. A crush. Yes, I have a crush on Lance. I'm not afraid to tell myself that anymore. Because I see Lance, and the expression he's holding; he's just as scared as I am. And that tells me that it's normal to be scared. It's nothing wrong with that. It's human to be scared.

Lance moves, and we both seem to hold our breaths. He's trying to get even closer to me now, as if he wants to make sure I'll stay. It's like he wants to tell me to don't leave this time. Please don't leave, is what his eyes pleads. Even if I could, I wouldn't go anywhere. I want him to understand that. I won't leave, I want to tell him but I think my eyes says it all, because Lance relaxes, breathing out in some kind of relief. I won't leave. Absolutely not. Not when Lance is right here, right here in the best way, dispelling all the toxic thoughts in my mind, clearing it from the haze that have laid there. Not when this fire is burning in my stomach and his stars are blinking at me.

"I'm real", I say, not just to him, but to myself too. "I'm real. I'm here."

I think to myself, how funny this turned out. It's so funny how the world can just turn drastically so suddenly, giving you the most unexpected things, making you wonder, how did this happen? Starting from somewhere but ending up in the complete opposite way. Sometimes I just love the world's games. It's life educational, giving you so many things you wouldn't expect receiving.

Lance laughs, a breathless laugh. A short one, too, and he bites his lips as to hide the big smile trying to show itself. I want to tell him to let himself smile, I want to see him smile, but I'm too speechless to do so. The words in my mouth comes and goes. So I can't do much than just stay quiet, studying every little freckle on his nose.

"Wow", he breathes like he can't really believe what's happening. "How interesting everything turned out, huh?"

I lean my head back against the pillow, and I have no idea when my hand gripped his shirt but now it is, gripping it so hard, soaking it with sweat. Lance doesn't seem to mind, though.

"I don't know how you did it", I say because the words came to my mouth now. I can finally use them. "I don't know how you managed to make me distracted. But it worked, and I'm very thankful for that."

"Keith", Lance says, and suddenly his fingers have trailed up to my cheek, cupping it lightly. I have never been without oxygen for this long. My head starts to get dizzy, and I look at him like in a haze, not daring to move. The close contact is so new to me, it scares me. Just as the feelings I'm currently feeling. "Let me stay here tonight. I want to stay. I want to comfort you. Please let me stay."

"Stop... stop talking like t-that", I press out through my quivering lips.

"Why?" Lance's fingers have now trailed up to my hair, pushing my bangs out of my face. It burns, everywhere. It's starting to get unbearable.

"Because... Because it scares me. So much."

He looks at me like he understands completely, and he presses his fingers softly against my scalp, as if to massage it. My eyelids falls without me controlling it, and my body goes through a hard shiver. I don't have to look to see that he's grinning. Even in this circumstance he has this jokey and flirty persona. I love it.

"I'm scared too, Keith."

My eyes flies open. I have this new energy inside of me. Nothing really matter anymore, except for his face this close to me, smiling down at me like he really finds this moment ironic, but so beautiful at the same time.

I reach for him, pulling him down towards me, against me. He gasps when his head hits the pillow, and I snake my arms around his torso, trying this new thing called comfort and closeness. I really like it. I should have experience it earlier. At least this kind of closeness. Not the one I have with Shiro.

I press my face into his chest, hugging him tightly, not wanting to let go. Both of us doesn't seem to mind what will come tomorrow. We choose to not see into the future. The school is closed tomorrow, I remember now. Lance must have thought of that before making up his mind. He can stay here, with me, and how we will feel tomorrow morning, is a thing to care about later.

"God, I love your smell", Lance mumbles into my hair and he inhales deeply, sighing afterwards. There is feelings doing somersaults in my stomach now, as if the fire wasn't enough. I'm glad my face is hidden because it sure is red now. "You'll have to stop smelling so good, or else I won't be able to keep myself away from you."

I wonder when the hell we decided to talk this openly to each other. Don't get me wrong, I sure like it, but it just surprises me. Can a relationship just change that fast? Can you go from hating someone's guts to start spilling dark thoughts and saying how good the other smells? Is it normal for us two to suddenly go through this teenage fever? Two teenagers, hopelessly crushing on the other, laying this close to each other.

"Then don't keep yourself away from me", I say against his chest.

"Oh my God, Keith, that is the most romantic thing I have ever hear you say", Lance chuckles, but suddenly he's burning, and I know I got him to blush. I smile ridiculously widely.

"Look who's making the other blush now", I joke, looking up at him, and sure enough, his face is darker in a reddish way, and his eyebrows is all the way up on his forehead. "And I didn't even need a pickup line for it. Just a statement."

Lance gapes at me when he realizes the way I got back at him, and for a second he looks like fish, opening and closing his mouth. "Dios mio."

I like it when you talk Spanish, is what I don't say. I don't think I can handle more fire, more somersaults in my body. It's enough as it is. I got to blush real hard, I don't need to do it more. I got to feel alive, at least the rest of this day. Lance helped with that. And he'll stay here for the night, too. Everything will turn out fine.

And what surprises me is that for a second, I really believe it will. Funny, huh?

° ° °

I broke a promise to myself, but I love that I did. I won't regret that. Never. Here I am, Lance in my mind, Lance on the paper, Lance brushing his teeth in our bathroom with out spare toothbrush after asking his mom if he could sleep over here, Lance's smell everywhere in my room.

I saviour it. I really should do. I can't help saviour it. Smelling the pillow just a little too much, brining the blanket up close to my face , thinking: there is differences, in everything. Differences is what's making everything so real. Differences in us, in the directions Earth is turning to, in life and death. Differences in everything and nothing at all.

° ° °

:)