https://youtu.be/fxhv3M8p2Y4

Underrated song. Apt.

The sky slowly camouflaged into hues of yellow and red as dusk descended, gently beckoning the earth towards night. I gazed silently at the window while I lay on my stomach on my bed. My chest felt like an icy tundra, a raging blizzard wrecking my heart.

I was drowning and I didn't know how to save myself. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had gone and made a fool of myself. How dumb could I be? Why had I blurted out like an unstoppable moron? 

But my words had been true. 

What about his?

Arfie whined softly from the foot of the bed. He jumped onto the mattress and lay down beside me, placing his head on his paws and gazing at me. His dark eyes glistened under the dim light of the room as I looked at him silently, unseeing.

I could still envision them standing around me, him among them. Whatever he had said, was it true? Was I really that much of an idiot? But it had all felt so damn real. My lips could still feel his. My skin still tingled from his touch. My heart still fluttered at the memories, as if they were the only things keeping it alive. Had it all been a lie? How could it be? If it had been a dream, how had it felt so tangible?

And knowing about his pathetic crush, I went along with it.

Was that all my feelings were to him? That he didn't think for a second before ridiculing them in front of everyone like that? The thought made my heart twist in anguish. How was it possible? How could everything be a facade? 

But maybe it was true. Marien had been the one talking to me at Kendra's party. Brad knew she was interested in me and hence sent Wilder after me. It didn't make sense. Everyone knew I was not into girls. Or at least, had an inkling since I hadn't really come out explicitly. Why then would Brad be so insecure?

Wilder was just upset after the match, and like a moron, I had decided to confess at the worst possible time. But I had honestly thought that it would set things right. 

"Honey," my mom called from the doorway. I realized with a jolt that my room had turned dark, the solitary source of light was the single stream of moon's silver streaming in through the window. When had night fallen?

I curled into a ball, hoping she would leave me alone. I didn't want to talk or move or breathe too loud. I wanted to disappear into oblivion. To rid of the familiar pain.

"Honey," she repeated. I cursed under my breath when my mom entered my room and walked over to me. I turned my face, half hiding in the pillow. She gently nudged Arfie so he obediently climbed down the bed. Much to my dismay, my mom took his spot on the mattress and gazed down at me, her brows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong honey?" 

She reached for my forehead and gently stroked the hair off it. I sighed softly and buried my face childishly in the pillow as she spoke again, "Ni-"

"What's wrong with me, mom?" I asked, my muffled voice breaking. "Why...there has to be something wrong, right?"

My mom took in a sharp breath and gently stroked my head. "Everyone has flaws, honey. It's what makes us ourselves."

I sighed, burying my face deeper into the pillow. I didn't want to talk to her. Or to anyone. I knew nobody could say anything to make me feel better. There was no way I could tell her anything anyway. Not without lying even more. Although my entire existence was basically a lie in her eyes. Which hardly made sense to me. My sexuality was just a part of me, but having to hide it made me feel suffocated as if it was all that I was. I was more 'gay' than I was 'Nico.' When had things gone so wrong?

I wasn't the only one lying in this family anyway. My father was. Even my mom had lied to me, or at least, concealed information which was basically a fancy term for lying. 

"Did you...did you have an argument with Marien? Did the boys bully you again?"

"She's not my girlfriend, mom," I snapped. Anger flaring at my insides at her blatant heteronormativity. 

She sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I just-"

I turned my face away from her and shut my eyes, seething. I suddenly wished she would leave me alone. I wished everyone would leave me alone.

"Honey, I made you dinner. Come, eat som-"

"I'm not hungry."

"Nico-"

"I'm not hungry." I enunciated each word with as much firmness as I could muster. She was quiet for a while. I shut my eyes, feeling my eyelids burn. My stomach clenched with guilt. I knew I was being unfair to her, but this wasn't something I wanted her to partake in. For a moment, I wondered if I should just get it over with and tell her. But what was the point?

I was terrified of her reaction. I imagined her crestfallen face and wondered if she would think I was having a 'phase'. Maybe even try to 'fix' me somehow. I realized I didn't want to find that out.

She rose to her feet after a while, kissing the top of my head gently. My heart lurched in pain. Would she be as kind if she knew? I was terrified of finding out.

"Honey, I'll be downstairs. I'll leave your dinner in the fridge. Okay? Eat whenever you want." I strained my ears as her footsteps receded. I heard the tiny click of the clock which meant that the door was shut and sighed deeply. Even if she didn't have an issue with my sexuality, she definitely would with Wilder. It was hopeless.

Both of us were fighting our own battles. Somehow, my stupid heart refused to believe his words. I hated the way I had confessed to him. It wasn't anything like I had imagined. It had felt like a terrifying nightmare. His cold eyes. His cruel face. It didn't suit him. It didn't suit the kind, gentle, caring Wilder I had fallen in love with. But maybe he wasn't ever mine, to begin with.

Or perhaps it was the wrong time. Or the wrong day. Or the wrong hearts. 

My phone vibrated suddenly and I reached for it feeling wary, wondering what new scandal was up at Northwood high. I saw a bunch of notifications and cleared them without reading. The reason for my phone vibrating was the reminder I had set. With a jolt, I realized that my English assignment was due tomorrow.

I took a deep breath and sat up straight, rubbing my eyes as I gazed around the dark room. I had never turned in any assignment late, and I wasn't going to let my broken heart stand in the way of the grades that I had worked my ass off to get. 

I rose to my feet, even though each step slowed me down and went to my desk, opening the laptop and staring at the screen for a solid ten minutes. I needed to come up with a song and wrest a plot out of it. But that would be someone else's story to tell, and I had my own.

I took a deep breath and opened up Word, shaking my head to try and clear it. My writing had been my refuge anytime that everything had overwhelmed me, and I was going to embrace that again. I would tell my own story.

And I finally let myself feel.

I put so much of me into my poems and passages that I often found myself weeping or euphoric along with it. Like every word I wrote down was a chunk of my soul, a piece of my heart. Like stringing the words together created a melodious symphony just for me. My writing was my means to escape. I was invincible when I wrote. I could make anything happen. I didn't know what would come off me, but when I wrote, I could create a happy ending. The power of words was almost too much.

I remembered everything that had happened, that had led to my downward spiral. I had always been an A grade student, and I fucking earned it. I used to be that kid ever since I was little, the one that people considered 'nerdy' or a pain in the ass because no matter what, he always had his homework. I was often the class monitor, the favourite student of all teachers. But I had one fatal flaw. I was too honest.

And that was what had led to my metaphorical demise.

Even though I had torn the pages of my then physical journal that I had and shred it, I had kept images and scraps of what I felt was important. I had wanted to hold on to the anger and resentment and in the process, destroyed my own self somewhere along the way.

I remembered how everything had gone down. How my friends had suddenly turned on me. Joseph was the guy that used to be my best friend back in elementary school, thankfully, he changed schools later, but not before damaging me permanently.

I still remembered how I had perhaps stretched my ambitions too far. Soon I started entering my classroom only to find my 'friends' suddenly stop talking. I knew something was going on, but I didn't know what. And then one day, while playing on the field Matt had told me that I was too fat to play. It was a train wreck from then on.

I don't know what I had done to deserve their cruelty, except perhaps that they were jealous. Except perhaps that I was proud of my hard work and what I achieved. Even though we were just children, jealousy had taken root in their hearts, watering the seed of pride in mine.

I let the feelings of humiliation, the agony, the terrible fear engulf me. How I had been so scared when they started picking on me. I was too shocked that my own friends were suddenly behaving this way and started spending my time trying to avoid them. Things got worse and worse and worse. I was helpless. Alone. Lost.

And then in fifth grade, Wilder came into my life.

He had arrived when I had been at my lowest. He had cured me, treated me with kindness I had forgotten.

He had tended to all my scars and suddenly I no longer cared for my ex-friends' betrayal. He started meaning the world to me. He was strong, kind, calm. As opposed to my weak, stupid, scatter headedness.

I didn't know where I could've been if Wilder hadn't come to me as he had. I had been the happiest that I ever thought I could be. I felt myself getting attracted to him slowly. My innocent heart had loved being with him, even just spending time. I did have an inkling even then, but I didn't think much of it. I liked Wilder. That was all it had been.

And then he left.

Just like that.

Like I was nothing

My fingers flew across the keyboard, my vision blurry with tears. It was insane how it had been years and still, I remembered every little detail. Every little taunt.

spud
spuddy
planet
sumo
snorlax

I remembered how Wilder had taught me to play football. How he had taught me to cook decently. How he had handled me with kindness in my entire ugliness. The incident in elementary school had left me incapable of loving myself, but Wilder still cared for me and made me think that maybe I was worthy.

I didn't expect anyone to understand why he meant so much to me. He was hot, popular, smart. I could see why everyone would be attracted to him. But for me, he was so much more than that. He had seen and embraced broken Nico even when I myself hadn't been able to. I had simply decided to dissociate from the anguish that came after he had left. It was far too great.

It was disgusting to think people would reduce my feelings for him to something vile and meaningless. My heart was the solitary entity that had taken the pain, it was the solitary entity that knew what Wilder Collins meant to me. He hadn't just been a friend, he had been a lifeboat for me, and like a fool I had let myself cling to him desperately. Perhaps, that was my fault.

I had confessed to him out of desperation a few years ago, effectively ruining our friendship. I had once again confessed to him a while ago, but I didn't think we had anything left to be ruined. I had struggled to keep my feelings hidden from even myself. Burying them under the 'no fucks to give' attitude.

I could still remember the last entry I had ever written. The words written by a trembling hand, seen through teary eyes, originating from a broken soul and echoing in a hollow chest. 

I wish he would come back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'd say all of this was just fiction, but that would be a lie. The feeling of helplessness and loneliness is the reality of millions. To a point that the smallest gesture of kindness makes a difference.
Thank you for reading so far! ❤️