Monday, 15 February 2016

the animal eleven

I ended up knocking on Dick’s door in the morning instead of calling my mother as promised and my whole body was running up and down with adrenaline, as I just asked him about his coming out again. He had told me once more, watching me shake as he ran his hands down my back, but no tears were coming out this time, instead all I could feel was pure torture that my mother didn’t love me anymore. That’s how it had felt, it was just a cycle and a constant understanding that now I was truly alone with a trans man running his hands on my back. In that sole moment I had wished that I had gone to Julien, that he had loved me. I wished that Lazarus had loved me. I wished that Dick had loved me. I wished desperately for a family and I felt like praying for anyone at all who would tuck me in at night and I desperately wished that I was young again, that I had told about the boy I had kissed at school, how it had felt to nearly be caught with my skin so tense that I had felt my ears getting pulled apart. How his tongue had felt, how the kiss had ran through my entire body and I wanted more. My pants had gotten tight, but we kept our hands to ourselves. 

When it came to my first girlfriend whom my parents were thrilled of, I had felt truly nothing, I just wanted the kiss to end and that had been it, that’s why such an intense whirlwind had lasted so many years and just confirmed to me that I was gay. I just kept going on kissing more boys and soon enough the first was forgotten as if a dead letter somewhere that I had barely recalled his face. I remembered the lust and all the feeling, and his warmth. 

I didn’t know how to get out of this hole, all I had known was that I felt tortured and I knew that Lazarus didn’t help and neither did Dick. It crossed my mind to have sex with him and images were crawling around in my mind as I put my head on his shoulder, he just patted me, kissing me on the forehead and in that moment I was solely thankful that he had been my friend, just like with Lazarus, I was thankful that I had at least something to fall onto, I had someone to just rely upon, even if I didn’t trust them fully and in years I would forget them as if they were a first kiss, I knew that for now they were family and I had ended up loving them as such. Maybe we’re all wanderers with lost families which detach from us like shooting stars. But then what is the purpose of family if we lose them so quickly over conflicts of the self? 

What was the point in having a blood tie which was worse than the media itself? 

The more I thought about it, the more I seemed to lose the sense of what even was the purpose of a family specifically in this society, where everyone would get blamed for coming out and living their lives. Life didn’t revolve around specifically having children with a partner who could reproduce with you, life didn’t revolve around having cis heterosexual relationships and in Dick’s case staying cis, he didn’t have to do that. Instead he ended up getting kicked out and working alone, making ends meet somehow and found himself a boyfriend who they accused of manipulating their poor child, who they screeched was still a daughter. Dick’s relationship with his parents was non-existent as he claimed but I could hear him call them from time to time with a very dry voice, rubbing his eyes on the phone and they would comment on how deep would his voice got. 

While he was rubbing my back that night, when I knew that I had committed a brutal mistake of even letting my parents know, he told me that he was told that now he would never be pretty, that he’d be just a muscle mass and that was it. Dick told me that parents would say the most hurtful words, just to make sure to convince us somehow to state that we’d do something else, but obviously that fails terribly and we’re left with nothing besides a broken relation and a parent who will never apologize to forever blame. And then when all is settled and forgotten you’re the one left wondering why did you even bother to tell. 

Lazarus was contemplating whether to start putting up the Christmas decorations which he hasn’t even bought yet. I hated going out with him to do the groceries because he would stand reading every single ingredient of the products as if in a week something would’ve changed and he did that wrapped in his big black cloak and the almighty fedora. Lazarus always made me wonder how the fuck was I even friends with him, but now he had traded his hat for a warmer one, but keeping the cape over his fur coat. He kept scratching his stubble as some other fellow walked past with a sword on their back. I got a glare, while Lazarus nodded, continuing to read and started complaining about the peas not being as good as they once used to be. 

The thing was, Dick would explain to me, because nothing would get out of my head for the remaining days of everything, fear would still straddle me and I could feel it, I was terrified of every call because it had included yelling and how wrong I was, the thing was that it wasn’t that they hated or loved me, it was the fact that I was breaking their beliefs of a happy family and that had been it. 

I had started sleeping more than half of the day just to pick up the phone to go into another round of yelling and that had been my days so far. That’s why I’ve barely written and that’s why I just walked to get groceries with Lazarus, because then I had a motive and I would make sure that he’d buy enough sugar for himself, but he’d ask for it anyway but I convinced myself that it had been solely to check up on me. I ended up getting angry at Julien for not checking on me, but he did, but until he did I had been rather pissed for some reason, as if he owed me, as if I knew what turmoils did the other quiet man have. I had no idea what had been going through his head and why specifically was he always so quiet around everyone else, I didn’t know his story besides his lover which I had barely taken out of him and looking back I was even surprised how I had managed to do so. 

Lazarus himself had love stories, but surprisingly they barely contained anything about the friendzone, it was just a couple of girls who he hadn’t worked out on and even one he had cheated on with the second. It surprised me that he had even dated even if it had been quite a few years ago now for him. I kept staring at him as he was telling me while playing an old Battlefield and cursing through the middle of it while he was waiting to be respawned, so I just watched him play as he would tell me of the old girlfriends and I  wondered if everyone cheated by the end of the day, since I had helped Dick doing so. Did cheating make you a really bad person or were we all just trying to judge ourselves somehow for our wrongdoing? What if it wasn’t as bad as we all imagined, but just like hiding secrets was bad, maybe not telling things wasn’t as bad as well. Maybe we just wanted to judge ourselves much more. I told that to Lazarus and he called me a fool saying that cheating was still bad and he understood that he had done it. 

The words still stung from my mother but I tried to concentrate on Lazarus’ words but it was hard, so he ended up repeating each story twice and watching me, as I would just stare into a blank spot. I could barely follow and he had read that after I showed him the notebook and he just suggested that it was better for him to read it to see how I was feeling. The problem truly was that I just couldn’t get out of the loop, I felt as if I was stuck on a skipping rope and it just kept going on and on and there was nothing I could do and I couldn’t move anywhere else, as if the whole room was filled with skipping ropes. My problem was that I couldn’t forgive her because she didn’t even ask to be forgiven. 

Lazarus’ girlfriends were three in total, the first one was solely because she had liked him and he figured to go ahead with it, the second was because he had gotten bored of the first and had decided to date the second one, without telling the second that he was dating someone else. The third ended up with him because he was actually single and that was the only one which wasn’t wrapped up with the first drama of the teenage years. It was odd but because he was the one reading my journal or even asking me all these things, I felt awful writing about his experiences even if he had told me that he didn’t mind while he was waiting for a new Call of Duty mission to restart (he had given up on Battlefield at this point). 


I had an awfully eventful Valentine's this year, so I'm rather knackered and I just want to sleep, but I've been trying to go back to a normal posting schedule, as well as writing in general. Thankfully I've managed to slowly start doing both.

The whole novel's backdrop is coming out to parents, so I keep going over and over it in my head, to be awfully honest. I'm happy that the novel kept me sane.

I end up rereading it and laughing about it, rather than doing some actual backstory. I really don't have much to add, I was depressed and I brainstormed it during playing Sonic and I miss the story dearly. 

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much for your support, it means a lot.



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