You won’t get an answer from me, you know this. It’s not that I don’t have the answers but what will it do for you? I’ve got my reasons and convincing me otherwise is a fruitless task. I make decisions for everyone, good or bad I can live with it. I can be the villain in every story, we all need one or maybe two.

I’ve learnt being a villain isn’t always a bad thing. I wanted to be batman but I’ve learnt to understand the villain’s truth. That’s the way you stay the hero in your own story by saving yourself the best way you know how.

Your realities won’t allow you to accept my reasoning because it goes against your truth. I don’t blame you as in the world we live you have to protect your truth and tell your own story. Regret is never too far away from the surface. I can regret without wanting to change things. I can regret what’s lost but I can’t regret the outcome of the process, it’s shown me things about me and all of you.

You don’t know this but I’ve seen the alternative and it’s a darker place. You’re all gone but the light remains, maybe one day you can coexist with the light instead of the darkness to me.

My truth is not important as it doesn’t change what you think of me. That bridge is going down in flames and I feel comforted watching it burn. The extinguisher is nearby but I’ll wait to see how far it burns because I enjoy the smouldering heat nearing my skin. The pain is addictive and I have to hold my breath as breathing is becoming more and more difficult. Everything has changed.

The story is better this way, your stories are better and my story is darker when told. This is life I guess, you make your choices and face the consequences of other people’s truths but it doesn’t determine yours.

You have to make peace with the fact you are the villain in somebody else’s story. You don’t get to tell them how to narrate their experience and you’ve all got your own stories.

Do I miss it? Maybe? Is the bridge gone? Maybe? Like I said you won’t get an answer from me, you know this.

I wander off as I sit on this train home knowing it’ll be the last time I see you. I’m not old enough to understand love but this feels like my heart is being ripped apart.

You spent last night crying on the phone to me. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life but in reality, it’s been 3 months.

The journey up here never seems as long as the journey back. I’ve spent my last coins on the bus I had to take to meet you at the bus stop, gaze into your hazel eyes and take the bus back. You snuck out to see me and I snuck my last coins to meet you. The smile on my face is bigger when I see you, my face starts to hurt after I see you but I don’t mind.

I get lost in your gaze, I’ve never met a soul so pure and open, you’re very transparent, I know exactly where I stand, it’s bliss. I remember when you came to mine, everyone loved you, that’s why I feel like I’ve known you forever.

When you told me you had to leave, my heart sunk. I don’t like what I think you have to go back to, I feel for you more than you do yourself. You knew this was coming, I didn’t want to know. I preferred living in bliss imagining our future together.

Maybe I can stop you from leaving, maybe I can be your hero. That would be great, for me. I haven’t thought about you, you tell me you want to stay but this isn’t home for you. I imagine all the ill I could save you from and how much love we’d have between us but is that what you want?

I continue to wrestle with these thoughts as I gaze out of the window at the forestry darkness. I’ll know I’m almost home when the leaves fade away.

You’ll be back, I’m sure of it, your sister told me so, I’ll see you again. I’m young and naive but she’s older so she must be right.

The tearing of the skin, the opening of the flow, I didn’t feel any of that. As I lay here underneath the cubicle, it’s hard to block out the smell of the urine now pressed up against the tip of my nose. “I can’t find his mum’s number in his phone” I hear a soft trembling voice call out from the doorway entrance of the toilet. I don’t save her number because of occasions like this, she can’t be the first one people call, I can’t risk it happening again.

“We are going to have to take off his shoes”. Wondering about which socks I put on before leaving the house took my mind off the stinging pain I was now finally beginning to feel. The adrenaline had worn off and my body was beginning to let go of the numbness, a world of pain was awoken whilst I waited, face pressed against the drying ground now.

Thinking back now why didn’t I just let my pride go, after all, I didn’t pay for the watch. The little voice in my head wasn’t saying if you can’t have it then no one can, quite the opposite. It was saying if they take it then so be it but you need to be able to look yourself in the mirror tomorrow and be able to believe you are who you think you are. That’s the thing with pride, it’s not a part of who you are, it’s the battle with who you want to believe you are. I read somewhere that we make attachments to people who see us the way we want to be perceived.

I didn’t see the rest of them approaching before I felt what I believed was their fists. I know better now. The blows hurt a lot more than usual, I’ve been rushed before but this was different, there was pain behind the rush of adrenaline. I didn’t feel anything until I heard her scream, I remember it to this day, shame I don’t remember her. “Oh my God look at his back.” I clutched my back and my hands came back to me a-washed in red, it came back with the pain that made it feel like more than fists.

They were faceless, my mind couldn’t begin to put together an image of even one face, maybe it was for the best. We can’t make stupid dangerous decisions based on what we cannot see. It didn’t stop us from trying because we had to become the man we want to see in the mirror.

The ambulance arrived, I was right to be worried as I look down at my big toe hanging out of the bottom of the blanket, making its appearance through the hole I wondered about.

I remember everything. I remember what was said in the heat of the moment, I remember what was said whilst intoxicated, I remember what was said when we weren’t together. It’s a curse, I wish I didn’t have. I remember when the inclination in your voice changed along with my momentary happiness.

I need a blank canvass, it’d make things easier. It’s not a gift but it definitely has curse like vibrations. I wish I could forget the things that make me doubt your love. Maybe not your love but your desire to be in love with the person you claim to love.

Lie to me once and I won’t forget. I won’t confront you about it either but do it over and over again you’ll lose me. I’ll lie too. We’ll lay in this bed of lies as our love grows on rocky soil that is a moment in time from giving way to the abyss.

The soil wouldn’t be so rocky if I didn’t overthink it, let it affect my interaction with you, cause me to compete with memories I cannot erase and replace with ours.

I ask questions to give you the opportunity to come clean with me so I can do the same to you and we can repair this soil. You dodge, you want me to ask direct but I can’t sum up the courage, I fear your response and what it will do to the moment I’m currently enjoying with you.

I get real accountable when I’m alone and blame myself but I can never admit this to you. Why did I even ask the question and give you the opportunity to lie to me? It shouldn’t matter. I need you to admire me so I can’t show you my flaws, I need to be perfect for you so I can’t come across jealous. Is it jealousy to want to know the truth considering I’ve spotted the lie.

I’ve got it, the soil wouldn’t be so rocky if I simply didn’t remember what you say.

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What is love? Does it exist? Is it eternal? Is it compatible?

I have a no for every one of those questions as I sit here a picture of total anarchy. I have let love go, I believe in it but I don’t subscribe to it.

It was making me weak, irrational and fearful. Something beautiful shouldn’t bring all of this, is what I told her. She responded “that’s not good”, you see love had us paralysed and everyone could see it but us. It’s not normal to want to spend every minute of every day with someone for such a long period of time. It’s not normal to collide about the gaps in the continuous-time we spend together. Together in all forms, you’re the only reason I look at this device.

Now compatibility that’s something I can subscribe to, it’s no thrills, it has room for steady growth and elevation. It’s not a car crash after a winter joy ride, it’s a summer cruise in the countryside. I want that I’m sure I do and it’s what I should want. Right? No risks.

But I’m drawn to the crash, I love the thrill of the ride, I convince myself I don’t but my heart beats, I feel alive. How long can it keep beating before it’s torn apart? It’ll leave now or show the scars forever, it’s already scarred, your typical Cat D.

Everyone is right, we need to move on, pain after pain isn’t going to bring compatibility, but it will bring the fire. Will we burn together? Will I mind as long as I’m with you? Will I ever forget you?

I won’t know anytime soon.

What am I? What do I want to be? I’m a walking contradiction, an accountant that hates numbers, a politician that hates sharing his views. Or does that depend on who I’m with and what I’m doing?

We struggle between the darkness and the light. I struggle between darkness and pitch black. I fall to pitch black when you look into my soul, what do you see? Or more importantly what do I see?

I don’t see me, I don’t know me. You’re allowed to not know what you are when you aren’t a man like me, but when you are there’s no excuse. No excuse for being unsure or for making wrong decisions based on your gut. Am I bad at judging risk and reward or am I just bad at appearing vulnerable whilst doing so?

Every day I wish I could start again, go back, stop making unnecessary mistakes. I could’ve handled it different, I could’ve handled you different, all of you. But I can’t dwell on it, the guilt can’t show, the fear can’t show, the regret can’t show.

Wrong decisions don’t scare me as long as it only affects me, I get scared for you. I don’t believe in wrong decisions, it’s not a science but it’s also not the light, it’s dark. I can be sorry and do it again therefore I can let who i am become the sum of my decisions. So much for that number-crunching schpeal earlier, maybe that is who I am. A walking contradiction.

I can be whoever and whatever at any point in time, I can change, my views can change, I can grow, my mind can grow. Now it’s up to you if that’s a positive or a negative and surprisingly as it may be it doesn’t matter to me at all.

My next promise that day shaped the rest of my early secondary years. I ended up in the school my mother desired, where they competed in chess, fencing and rugby. The latter of which I wasn’t too bad at, pure athleticism and drive always managed to get me through the clamour of Ifey’s metal studs raised as he headed towards me. Ifey was built like a brick with broad shoulders and muscular thighs, now in year 8 it was frightening to see the veins pulsating out of his neck and thigh tissues. It was hit time and my body tightened, I was determined to make this count I had timed it perfectly to avoid the moment his studs were raised as much as the glare of the sun against his metal studs would allow me, that was the first part of my fear gone now time to deal with the second.

It was now contact time, I could hear his breath loud and clear now, they became shorter as time froze. We had been this close before this feeling wasn’t new and maybe that made it worse, the last time didn’t end well for me but I gained his respect but that was out of the window now as my bony skeleton locked into his body, this was definitely new, I felt a shift, a slight but significant shift, I knew this wasn’t enough to win this latest dual, he would eventually push back as he strode forward, I dipped to generate more power from my bum, it had to be useful for something right, I felt his foot raise as he attempted to stride forward, it was now or never I had him off balance. At that moment came the cloud of red and moisture around my face.

“I’m fine” I’ve become addicted to saying it, addicted to making everything appear okay and put together… but it’s not.

I’ve lived through the storm I can carry on, all I have to do is carry on. This is the recovery stage, right? I can deal with this it’ll make me a stronger man for the next time these feelings come. I’m feeling lonely in rooms full of people but I keep inviting these people. Escapism? Coping? Validation? I don’t know because I don’t understand what’s missing.

Whatever you’re going through keep it to yourself because no one wants to hear it, everyone needs the best version of you. Don’t put yourself above all the people depending on you. Ever thought you can’t be there for them with this emptiness in you? No, because you can push through right? You can oppress this until next time.

Get away from all these quiet moments, fill your time with things, fill your time with any thing, fill it with other people’s things, increase the stress and take on their burdens. Do you give to give or do you give for the dopamine to mask the empty space? 

Will someone allow you to take a second to explain your battles? Probably not because this spirit doesn’t sleep and you’ll need more than a second. Stop, stop, do something and keep doing it, keep getting that dopamine and wasting your life because time is endless so you cannot waste it but you can try. You’re perishable but you will not perish because you have to be something, you have no choice but to succeed.

Find something to stand for, look for someone to be their for. Who’s there for you? Are they not there or are you not allowing them to be? They think you’re fine because you said so. You said so, so go be fine. 

So I sit here asking God to deliver me from my closest friend.

The walls are grey in colour with mould growing in between the many cracks, but I would rather be in here than out there. They say the police force is the greatest gang around, well they must run a close second. The small window above the slab of stone which has been my bed for the past two days is my only link to the rest of society, yet I am not a prisoner, well at least not a prisoner to the pigs. This brings me back to my best friend in this world. I’ve known this brother from that first day at nursery; we went from kiss chase to the paper chase together. Now my only wish is to go back to the prior to get away from the latter. The funny thing about this is despite asking for deliverance I feel I know him more now than ever. They say desperation brings the true man out of a boy.

Every now and again I sit here picking the thorns out of my arms and legs to take my mind off the situation but never for too long as it begins to serve as a starch reminder. You’re probably confused right now but all will become clear. I’m also confused; I’m wondering how my closest friend became my archest enemy. We’ve been through our whole lives together now one has to deprive the other of the right to live. I can’t bring myself to believe that I have to be the one, it’s got nothing to do with the taking of life for that I could do without so much as shedding a tear drop for the life taken. I guess you become immune to the human implications of taking a life after so much experience. It suddenly strikes me, would it be best if we both died for one of us is no better than the other, you would think two Christian homes shouldn’t spawn such devils. Come to think of it what is a devil, well the religious definition of devil is the major personified spirit of evil. But I also read in a dictionary once that a devil is an energetic, mischievous, daring, or clever person. I will let you choose which definition to use to describe us after you hear our story. I almost feel like my brain is about to implode sitting in here, a lobe filled with what if thoughts; what if I hadn’t agreed to move that package out country although at that time it seemed like an effortless hour and a half drive. I can almost feel the cold sinking in between my flesh and skeleton from the draft in this room, or maybe it’s the fact I haven’t eaten for the past two days. Maybe I’m destined to rot to my carcass in here in fear of what’s outside but somehow I don’t believe that devil inside me will allow destiny to have its way with me.

Every now and again I drop to my knees to offer a prayer to the man upstairs, in the hope that the faith of the seasons of people I’ve come across throughout my life will be enough to grant me a hint of mercy. Throughout all those years of accompanying my mother to church this is the one thing that stuck with me till this day, the belief that if you kneel before God no man can stand against you. Actually make that two things as I’ve been searching for an answer to this one question from the first time I came face to face with adversity; Does God listen to the prayers of a child who chooses times like this to build a relationship with him, for my sake I hope he does. Come to think of it the amount of adversity I’ve been through in my life to this point it could be a very strong bond.