AnonymousCharles

"I was scared to come here."

His eyebrow went up, "Why?"

"I freaked out last time and ran away. I got jealous. I just couldn't lay there listening to something I wanted."

"She got mad at me for doing that. I was stupid."

"We already dealt with it, I just felt nervous that we weren't really done dealing with it."

"You could've kept texting me."

I took a deep breath, "Ahh, I just... Feel... Really needy and I just wanted things to go back... To... Just... I shouldn't take this so seriously... I don't... I don't know... I told myself I wasnt going to have this fucking conversation and here I am doing it... I'm scared you... I don't know..."

"Oh my god, I've never seen you speechless. You don't have the words?" He laughed and it made me blush. He was right. I don't often struggle to tell him what I'm thinking or feeling.

I shook off my embaressment: "You know that I'm in love with you?"

"Yeah."

"Not just love you. In love with you."

He grinned and nodded.

"Well, I think I should tone it down. I think it's going to bother you sooner or later."

Suddenly, he was indignant. "You don't bother me!" burst from his chest. "God, you are so down on yourself! You want to text me? Text me. Call me? Do it. I like hearing from you."

I leaned back and just let the next tear happen. I was searching my mind for a nicer way to say it. I settled on, "You don't love me like I love you."

"Yes. I do." Once he said it, I looked away. He wasn't having it. "Look at me. I love you more than I love my friends. We're fucking soulmates, dude."

The last time he said that word to me, it felt so good and right. This time, it made the last 2 weeks flash through my mind. The jealousy, the stupid messages, the way he just immediately forgave me. I begged him, "Stop saying it! Not that word!"

Defiantly, he leaned right up to face. "No. I'm not going to quit saying it. You are my soulmate. I love you deeply. And you need to accept it. Stop fighting it."

"But you don't want me." I meant sex. He knew that.

He said, "It is psychotic to me that no one has seen you how I see you."

I felt the tear roll down my cheek and I looked at my feet.

"Look at me... I can say anything to you."

I nodded, I think. I might have just been shaking.

"You are my best friend. I love you," he grabbed my face with one hand so I couldn't look away, "If I was gay, I would be with you. Why the fuck not? You're irresistible."

I said, "If you were gay, I probably wouldn't be into you." I laughed whioe crying.

He was still holding my face. "I just mean that it doesn't have to be sexual. It can just be Love. You need someone to make you feel that. And I need you in my life so I'm going to try." He wiped away the freshest tear with his thumb.

The next day, hungover and on the way to get food, I blurted out, "You're my best friend, too."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes. You said that to me last night and I never said it back, so..."

"Thank you for telling me sober."

I stopped all of the feelings I could in October of 2015. At that point, I had 5 long-term friends left. I say left because I used to have a lot of friends but things change. The number of people I cared about who also cared for me just... sort of... dwindled. And it didn't stop dwindling. Partly because I was shutting down, and partly that I was choosing the next version of myself with great precision, I kept seeing the number shrink.

By the beginning of 2017, I was down to three. By the middle of 2017, I was down to two. Sometimes, I could pinpoint a moment where I just couldn't be bothered with a particular person anymore. Most times, it felt like things had just drifted. I went a month without seeing them, and then two, and so on until I knew we weren't mad at each other but we also weren't seeking each other.

At the beginning of August, it hit me that there was just one. One friend who I could talk to any time. And what was I supposed to do if he was busy? By instinct, I spent some time seeking out some people from the past. I started driving out on the weekends and forcing my way back into an old friend's life. Then someone I was just starting to know quit working at my job and I knew I had to put in effort to keep that friendship alive, so I started driving out even further. I had brought the number up to 3. Three friends who wanted to talk to me. Who told me they loved me. I was still real. I was still here.

I kept warning the new friend that I ruin everything -- you'll see -- and he didn't care. I warned him that I fall in love very fast, and he just let me. To my surprise, I became unbearably honest. I told him how I felt, I told him what I wanted, I even told him how even if I got what I wanted it would never be enough. None of it changed his attitude toward me. He just stayed open.

So we drank. We talked for hours and hours every weekend. And then I would come home and have the same kinds of deep conversation with the friend I had re-gained. I was ignoring the one that was left because we had often went months without speaking and it had never made a difference.

Those three people are all I care about right now. And the giant purple elephant in the room is that I don't know what to do in this moment so that I can be sure they keep loving me, keep needing me, and keep telling me. But when I look at the beginning of this year, my "best friends" were three other people. Because time changes things. And that is why time is my biggest fear.

I want to freeze time for a while so that the three men who matter to me tonight will stay in their places in my heart. I don't want this to change. I don't want another moment where it was over, or another slow fade away, no... I just want this to be where it stops. Three friends who only have me in common, who aren't friends with each other. They answer when I call, respond when I text, and look me in the eye when I say something important.

But, see, I am writing this because I think I'm already too late. I think last Friday was the day to freeze. That was the day when one of them told me I was too good to be alone, one of them told me I deserved to be happy, and one of them asked me if we were soulmates. All in a fucking day. It turned out to be more than I could feel at once. The slimy sexual wall that surrounds my heart had grown 10 feet overnight. When I woke up, my eyes were gunked up and matted together. My mouth was empty. My soul was starving.

This week just feels different. I'm sick, trapped at home, washing my hands 15 times a day so I don't spread the virus in my eyes. I think I messed up. I think I said too much. I was honest in a way that crossed a line. I haven't been showing up where I was needed. Or when.

And I think that when my eyes are healed next week, it will be just in time to see that I ruined everything. So I wait, holding my breath, hoping that I'm wrong, that I'm real, that I'm here, and that all three of them still care. I hope I matter.

Seven years ago, a boy I loved was trying to combine words to make me laugh. I responded with Chocolapple Pie and we laughed way too hard, for way too long, and were still bringing the word up the next day. Maybe that sounds really good to you, a chocolate-covered apple pie, or an apple pie made with chocolate crust, or a chocolate chip apple pie, or whatever you imagine. Maybe it sounds like a tasty treat in your world,  but to me it sounds terrible. A sweet apple pie, golden crust flaking just the way I like it, when suddenly appears a dark and thick taste that sucks the sweet sunshine of fruit flavor from my lips, which stick together now. Absolutely destroying my warm baked gooey desert, ruining the good feeling and sticking like mud in my mouth. The boy I loved, like the one before him, and the two after, are slices of chocolapple pie. How did something so inherently delicious make me feel I couldn't talk. Too busy chewing. Chocolapple pie doesn't melt in your mouth.

So, when Joseph skipped my birthday to go out of town, plans he made after I mentioned my birthday, I was really angry. I bought him Wilfred, threw him a surprise party. It just didn't make sense to me that I could've been caring about someone who doesn't really give a shit about me. But at the behest of our mutual friends, I succumbed, buried by anger, and tried to fix it. On the day after my birthday, the 18th, at the gas station, he was saying how he went to Johnny's and the moment they tried to skate, it started raining. I couldn't help myself and, "Karma" just popped out of my mouth. He heard me and said, "I didn't really want to skate anyway, so it's not really karma..."

We dropped everyone off and went to his house so he could eat. There, he said, "Me and Johnny watched the first season of Wilfred." And I said, "Yeah? Wasn't that your birthday present?" and we didn't talk for another ten minutes. In his car, on the way back to my place, he goes, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to miss your birthday." And I was honest, I didn't just pretend everything was fine, I said, "I don't really know what to say to that, man. I've already decided to be over it." I asked him, "So, did you get me anything and I just got mad before you could give it to me?" and he said, "No." So I said, "I don't how to say this any clearer, Christmas matters to me. Don't skip Christmas." And he fucking nodded. And so we spent the week trying to act normal and then on Christmas Eve he fucking comes to my house, tells me Johnny's coming over, too.

Once again, we have to swing by a gas station. I asked him before we parked at the pump, "So, you coming over to smoke. Was that for Christmas?" and he says, "What?" like he has no idea what I'm talking about. I don't answer him. I get out, pump the gas, pay, get back in the car and say, "So, where's my Christmas present?" And he says, AND I QUOTE, "I told you! Um, no... I didn't get you anything... Yet." And by the way, if you had heard that Yet, you'd have known like I did that it was total bullshit. I think I was so mad, I just stopped feeling it. It wasn't like my birthday, where we argued three times in a day over the phone. Instead, it just settled instantly and I was numb.

At my house, Johnny showed up, and Joseph spent the entire time in my room texting, trying to get a plan together to ditch me on Christmas for the same slut who has been not putting out and teasing him for three months. I just talked to Johnny and played games and then I watched the first episode of Dexter's latest season with Johnny cause he hadn't seen it yet and he's just as into it as I am. And after that went off, they left. So I went to my room and turned off all the lights.

I could not sleep... I was furious, sad, disappointed that my best friend is such a selfish prick. So I finally texted him...

4:38am 12/25 from CHARLES:
I have laid awake for four hours because I'm fucking stunned that you actually didn't get me a gift. I mean, I really should've seen it coming. But I thought after I bought you Wilfred and threw you a party and then you got me nothing and left town, that when we talked about it and I said TO YOUR FACE that Christmas matteres, don't skip Christmas, and I bought you a fucking awesome pipe, that there was no way you would... And then you did it anyway. You could've so easily picked up a giftcard or anything when you were out spending $100 on XXXXX. But that would mean you considered how I might feel, and it turns out you're allergic to giving a fuck... Yeah, can I just get that shit back? How about your Christmas present to me this year is Wilfred and that pipe and then we call it quits? Yep.

Of course, the pussy had no balls and never wrote back. Instead, he tried to call me twice that night and I rejected both calls. So he finally sends me a text:

11:36pm 12/25 from JOSEPH:
I heard you have Kyle. I'm coming over to give him his beer. You don't want me there? I'll leave as soon as I give it to him.

CHARLES: K

And then Kyle gets a text and goes outside. A couple minutes later, I walk out there and - I can't fucking believe it - I actually told him, "Look. You can come in if you want. I'm a better friend than you, is all. I'll live." And I walked away. He said he was going to pick up Sean and Cay, which pissed me off because they were supposed to be hanging with me. But then, when I walk inside, Kyle says, "He said he hasn't cried over a gift since he was five." I was like, "What? When?" and Kyle says, "Just now at his car." And that was it for me.

Couple of points... I didn't cry. It's not the gift, it's the emotional negligence that infuriated me. Chris and Brit got me a poster, you know? And I don't care if it was three bucks or fifteen. They took a second out of their day to show me they give a fuck. And I completely appreciate that kind of thing. In fact, to ignore Christmas, especially when warned five days ago that it's not gonna turn out great, and to just fucking do it anyway... I felt the ultimate disrespect. I felt stupid for caring so much about him, for doing anything for him ever.

11:49 12/25 from CHARLES:
Last time I cried over a gift, huh? Fuck you. Stay the fuck away from me. You're a pussy, a piece of shit, and we aren't friends.

JOSEPH:
My brother didn't get me anything for Xmas today, you think I hate him for it? Nah. Because that would be stupid. If that's the way you want it, then so be it. I guess I'm better off.

CHARLES:
Your brother sounds like a douche. Must run in the family.

JOSEPH: Haha, have fun being angry for a week.

CHARLES: You ruin everything. No wonder you chase that skank. Good luck not getting laid for the next three weeks.

JOSEPH: LOL

CHARLES: Hey, if you wanna fight, I'm dying to draw blood.

(I was very drunk at this point, but I totally would've brawled in my driveway, though no one at my house would've let me. I'm peace-loving when sober, so...)

JOSEPH: Go for it.

12:08am 12/26 from CHARLES:
K.

Then a few minutes go by before Sean tells me that Joseph was going to break the $40 glass pipe I bought him for Christmas. I'm sure the remainder of the story was that Sean actually took it so we couldn't break it. But I missed it, being drunk and angry and already sending this message...

12:15am 12/26 from CHARLES:
You break that pipe, you owe me forty. Just give it back and stay the fuck away after that.

JOSEPH: I actually wouldn't owe you anything cause it was a gift. But oh, how I wanted to shatter it. Sean and Cay have it. Same with Wilfred. I'd like my pipe and the ash tray I made you back since we're stopping to this level.

And all the weed I've smoked with you, too! JK on that one.

(Yeah, you better JK that one. Considering the way I funded out whole group of friends until Micah got a job and even after that, too. Like there's an amount of weed out there that would possible make up for the two years I carried his ass.)

And money for all the times I've bought you food. JK on that one, too.

(I assumed these JKs were legit, because he literally has no argument against his actions. He was a selfish prick. There's no way to see it but that way. And even he knows that. And the same comment applies -- I carried him for two years, including meals.)

CHARLES: Awww, if only your words mattered. Fail.

JOSEPH: Whatevs, dude. You brought this all on yourself.

CHARLES: Yes, I choose pricks to love, that's true. You fucked up.

JOSEPH: How can this be my fault? And don't even say it's because I didn't get you anything for Christmas.

(This comment confused the fuck out of me. And now that I'm sober and caught up on sleep, it still makes no sense. I mean, what ELSE is there? Of course it's about Christmas. And my birthday. And all the times we talk and he nods like he understands and then goes right back to doing whatever he wants at all times as though we never even talked. It's a lot of shit, sure, but there ain't no way around the Christmas thing. I told him... days ago... don't do this... and he did it anyway. It is all his fault. So I said...)

CHARLES: Boring. Fuck off.

JOSEPH: Seriously, though. I want shit back just as I gave you your shit back.

CHARLES: Everything you gave me is already in a bag from that dumb shit you pulled last month.

(This has been a long time coming... Last month, he got mad at me and quit talking to me for a week. That was really the beginning of the end, I think. But I'm the one that does the walking away. Not the other person. So I let it get fixed because I wanted the power position. Judge me all you want for that, but I wouldn't go toe to toe with me if I were you.)

JOSEPH: Sean and Cay have your stuff. I'll be there shortly to get my stuff.

When he got to my driveway, I gave him his bag of junk and told him right there in my driveway... How can you be such a liar? How can you tell me I'm your best friend and you love me and then pull this shit? It's because you're a pussy. I have given you every fucking opportunity to tell me you wanted distance or needed space and you don't. You say, 'No, it's not that.' and pretend everything's cool. But you're a fucking liar. You don't have the balls to say shit to my face. You don't give a fuck about your friends.

And he tried to start laughing. Like that was ridiculous, of course he cares about his friends. So I continued, angrier, louder. Oh, you think money and weed makes people care about you? I tried that shit for years. Doesn't work. Nobody gives a fuck about you. You take away the drugs and see what you have left.

And then I'm sure Brittany and Sean sat out there convincing him they care. I don't really know. I didn't ask. Now, I was starting to feel sick. And as I start throwing up, I watch as the rest of my supposed friends leave. No, no one stayed to take care of me, or make sure I didn't choke on vomit. They left. And I assume they went to Joseph's, but that's just cause he has drugs and money. No surprises there.

So I've decided, now that this is the state of things in my life, I'm un-enrolling from school. I'm packing my shit. I'm driving away. I got an invite to move in with some friends in Washington state. I'm leaving Kentucky at the end of the year, maybe as late as February so I can use my tax refund to pad my savings account. But I don't want to be here anymore. I don't need to push anyone else away. And I don't need to have friends who make me translate their actions. Yes, I realize that Joseph wanting to shatter the pipe is actually fueled by the opposite of what it looks like. If he didn't care, he wouldn't feel the need to clear my gifts from his life. God knows I'm doing that same thing because of how much I care. But it's not enough for me to just have to know. What? Every single time Joseph ignores something important to me, with or without a specific warning from me not to ignore it, I have to let it all go? I have to be the bigger man, right? Let him be a dumbfuck 19yo idiot and just pretend he doesn't hurt my feelings every four days? Friends are supposed to make you feel good and he's been making feel like shit for going on a year now. So, yeah. Fuck that shit. Running away sounds way better than that shit.

I'm the only one who talked to you the whole time you were gone. Am I missing something? Have I imagined all of this? Didn't you cry over Skype because your best friends ignored your messages. "I can see where it says they've seen my message, but they never write back." And it drove you crazy. It drove you to tears. But not me -- I didn't do that to you. And, somehow, when you get here, you still devote yourself to the friends who, I thought, had proven their lack of interest. And you don't say Happy Birthday, you don't say Merry Christmas, you don't say anything when he makes me furious and I leave you two alone in the theater. You don't fucking say anything.

I mean, fuck! He was right. That's the whole reason it pissed me off so much, he was right. And you didn't stop him, you didn't disagree with him. You didn't try to comfort me or tell me it was fine. You just left his words there to rip this new hole into our new friendship. And you know why? Because you're a pussy, really. On the inside, you're soft. And you might be really hard, tough, deadly even, but all of that is on the surface. It's not who you are...

OH, WHO AM I KIDDING?

I don't fucking know you anymore. And you never get to know me, you never care enough to ask. My soul mate, I called you. Because I was stupid, desperate, pathetic. And the more I can't be those things anymore, the more I watch people distancing themselves from me. I'm getting better in my head. I'm finally seeing what I really want... and it means you need to go. You need to take your exit from my life. We will never be friends, I will always want you, and you will never fail to disappoint me. What's done is done. I'm sorry if talking to you online this whole time was misleading. Because, in person, I hate how you make me feel. And I won't willingly go back to that feeling.

I can sit Joseph down anytime I need to and say everything I'm thinking and even if he didn't want or need to hear it, it doesn't break us. Our friendship endures and that's simply because we have a friendship. But with you, I can't do that. Every time I've tried, we were drunk, and you can't really dig under the surface when all those alcohol feelings are floating around in your brain. And you don't want to dig under the surface, anyway. I shouldn't blame you for not wanting to deal with your shitty childhood, but I totally do. You're only prolonging the inevitable. You don't wanna be 40 and never have been to therapy, never talked about how you actually feel inside. You don't want that, but it's what's coming.

As for me, I just wanted to believe in something... You were supposed to come into town and resume being my sole focus, my sole target for my sexual thoughts. You were supposed to take the heat off Joseph, man. But then you don't. You fucking sit there, fully aware that I wanted my life to be with you, and you talk about all the girls you've been sleeping with. I know I've done some fucked up shit to you, but all in pursuit of the truth. I know I hacked your email and saw what you were doing, who you were talking to, the pictures you were sending. And I'm supposed to un-see that how? I'm expected to pretend (read: LIE) that I don't know the truth. I should let you just slide right by every time you say words that sting in my chest, right? I'd rather just be done, really done. But I know as long as I feel the need to explain this to you, I'm not done. When I go, it'll be without a word, no goodbyes. I'll just become one of those supposed friends of yours who never writes you back. Maybe that'll get your attention. Seems like it worked for everyone else.