I've constantly wondered exactly where I went wrong when it came to my behavior. Whether it was all my fault for being incredibly ignorant, that things turned out the way they did with the people I knew, just like Danny always told me. I also couldn't help but think what could've happened had I just accepted Danny's feelings instead of ignoring them like I did. I couldn't help but think that the outcome would've been better.
That's the thought that keeps torturing me.
I always said that everything was his fault. But back then, if I had just had a conversation...no, if I had given him the benefit of the doubt and half the grace he had shown me, if I hadn't done what I did...at the very least, things would've turn out better than this and Danny would be with me right now. He would've considered it a miscommunication and we would've solved it together like everything else we did. Even if it meant no one else would speak to him, he still would've chosen me and had my back.
So this is all my fault.
From the beginning of high school, people tended to be scared of me and avoid me. When Danny, someone who had no fear and knew me so well started to do the same, my interest in him grew to explosive new heights. I ended up forcing my interests on him and making him do whatever I wanted, but if I really think about it, we probably didn't have much in common. From the start, Danny was never interested in any of the shit I got up to. I was just someone that forced him to give up on having his own life to wait on me. And that was it.
Once in a while I'd pick on him for real and he'd snap back at me with some smart remark and look at me as though I was pathetic. I understood why back then, after all, he knew real delinquents that could make some real trouble. Compared to them, Martin and I were absolutely nothing. But even knowing that, I still picked on him, like a kid putting on a show for a bit of attention. Of course he'd tell me to fuck off as it was likely I had done something to anger him on purpose.
In sophomore year, my dad had accidentally hit me in the face while aiming for another part of my body leaving a bruise. While everyone whispered to no end about what could've possibly happened, Danny didn't ask about it at all and treated me with his usual disdain. I remember feeling upset about that for some reason. Even though I was frustrated with the un breakable hold he had over my mood, I still wanted him to hug me and tell me that everything was going to be alright for me.
He didn't, instead he lectured me on skipping class and being nicer to Giacomo. Funnily enough, his nagging made me feel a lot better, and it made my obsession flourish. It was when I was at the height of thinking that Danny was my salvation, so I had to keep him only with me. At the time I didn't even care if he was taking care of me out of pity or not and it didn't matter since I wanted him to stick to me.
Danny was my first friend ever. My friendships with other kids always felt incredibly hollow, but Danny was different from everyone else. That's why I kept thinking I needed to try harder to make him feel comfortable, but I only ended up forcing him to do everything I wanted without any regard for him. That, and things don't always go the way I want.
Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one who knew how kind and great Danny was. Wherever he went, people liked him and questioned their sexuality when they see how fuckable he can unintentionally be. Whenever I saw this, it made me feel lonely and it scared the shit out of me. And whenever I felt this way, I would go completely off the rails, sabotaging any connections and spreading rumors to make people ostracize him. I knew I was acting like a kid throwing a tantrum, but it was my weird fucked up way of venting my frustration.
Regardless of what happened, being the nice person he was, Danny would get concerned about me and come rescue me anytime I was about to fall off the deep end.
Ugh, I never meant for any of this to happen. Sabotaging every potential friendship he had, getting the entire school to turn against him, hitting him when he called me out, forcing him to do things he didn't like, stressing him to the point of sickness, almost killing him multiple times and the years of verbal abuse wasn't a great strategy either. Even if it came from a misunderstanding caused by my mother, I did all of this.
If I was Danny, I'd hate the person I had turned into as well. I couldn't imagine my best friend, the only person I'd ever trusted, pulling that shit on me. I would probably try to quit school and be scared of meeting people. Dammit, we shared so many good memories when we were younger, and that just makes it more difficult for me to accept what ended up happening.
I regret everything.
I wanted to go back to a time where him and I could just sit down and talk. When Danny could speak to me honestly and it was easy to tell if he was happy or angry. I feel I like I knew what true happiness was. When I look back now, I've always been trying so hard to become who everyone else and my parents thought I was. For people who had never loved me. For people who would drop me without a second thought if I lost any perceived value they thought I had. I was lost to the reason I was so desperate to please them the way I did back then.
But, it was because I'm terrified of being alone. I mean, I had someone who genuinely like me for the person that I was and would stay by my side no matter what. The extra precautions I took were just all unnecessary because I already had the unconditional love from Danny. He had become my reason to endure and live on.
But I feel I'd lost my reason to live. Actually, I don't even know why I'm still living anymore. But, at least I've been given hope that I can find a new reason to continue on. Now that I know such a love that could hurt this badly can exist, it comforts and motivates me to go on.
Shit, Martin was a prime example of there being something out there for me. Without him, I'd still be getting beat up by my father and eventually thrown out. Then where would I have gone? No matter where I go, nobody will ever genuinely welcome me. I had no idea where I belonged in society either.
And I've had enough of trying to figure it out.
St. Thomas's Hospital loomed on the opposite side of the road, and I stood on the bridge leading to it for a few moments, looking across at the therapy clinic attached to it, and had worked so hard so many times to understand myself. Then, I turned away, and walked, slowly and deliberately, to the busiest part of the road, and stood there, waiting on the pavement. It was seven thirty in the morning – the traffic was starting to going to get busy, without being jammed to a standstill. I took a couple of deep breaths, and waited for the oncoming cars to pass so I could cross the road. Then I stepped out into the road hearing a loud screeching noise followed by a force launching me through the air.
I knew only one thing before I was rendered unconscious, pain.
I knew that time had passed, I didn't know how much time but I knew it was at least a few seconds before I woke next. The first thing I regained was my hearing, I could hear the muffled sound of a bunch of people freaking the fuck out. And a constant annoying ringing.
The next thing that came to me was the realization that breathing was becoming hard. I felt as though I had some massive weight pressing down on my lungs.
What came to me next was unlike anything else, the pain. It was so all encompassing that I couldn't believe it wasn't the first thing that I had noticed. A strangled howl escaped me at the sudden unrelenting and unbearable pain that assaulted me. My head, my abdomen, my leg.
I forced myself to open my eyes and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the nearly two inch wide tree limb that had ripped through the wheel well of the car on my side and went straight through my midsection on my right side below my ribs. I let out a shuddering sob as I reached down to touch my bloody body as if to make sure that it was real.
Holy shit! I got impaled by a branch!
My body was being propped up by some concerned driver who seemed to be trying to speak to me in the commotion. From this position I had a perfect view of my legs
My right leg was mangled badly. My right side had taken the full brunt of the car. The place where my thigh should have been....the sight in front of me was a twisted amalgamation of metal and bone, plastic and flesh.
I was done. Someone from the ambulance finally arrived and moved closer and I glanced up to see the figure crouch a little, the body angled toward me. Closer and closer it came, finally kneeling a foot away. I met bright worried eyes.
"Please." I choked on the word, new tears falling from my eyes, and she paused, her own eyes widening in surprise. "Please...help me." I begged, crying in pain as I pleaded with her before everything started to sound like rushing water and day quickly turned into night.
The next time I came around, the radio sounds were gone. They'd been replaced by the steady beeps that my mind quickly categorized thanks to many past ER memories with Danny. I was in a hospital. Keeping my eyes closed, I tried burrowing deeper into the blanket that covered me. I wasn't feeling cold anymore thankfully, and my head felt little less fuzzy. My entire leg felt tight and stiff, and when I tried to move it I realized it was fully wrapped in some kind of bandage. I finally managed to open my eyes, glancing around the room and confirming my suspicion that I was in the hospital and not some kind of slow torture room. As soon as I acknowledged that, my brain supplied the memories, and I realized that I was struck by car because I wasn't paying attention. A tree branch had impaled me below my ribs and my leg had been mangled. Unable to stop the sob, to stop picturing people's faces staring at me from the ground, I brought my hands up to cover my face and cried, biting my lip to keep quiet and ignoring the building headache and the way the needle in my arm pulled.
"Vincenzo? Vincenzo are you alright?" The voice coming from the doorway was familiar but I didn't bother looking toward it. It was the last man I want to see. If my father and had taught me anything, it was that men were uncomfortable with tears and would probably leave if I pretended they weren't there. So that's what I did. Turning a little, I leaned back against the slightly elevated bed and cried; wishing he would just go away.
My dad sighed softly and I managed to be grateful for his inherent inability to deal with crying teenagers for about two seconds before a hand touched my shoulder. I stiffened in surprise...I hadn't heard him approach the bed or...sit down on the edge as he was doing now.
Was he mad at me? It wasn't like I got hit by a car on purpose!
"I-I didn't mean to-"
"That's not why I'm here!" He snapped at me.
Silence.
"Why do you look like shit?" I asked to break the ice.
"You get hit by car and the first thing you say is...Oh mio Dio, perché proprio a me!?" My dad sighed heavily and put his head in his hand. "The doctor said you're lucky not to have suffered any brain damage. Do you even know how much I....ah...."
"I remember everything that happened and I'm fine. I feel like I woke up after a good nap. It's kind of...refreshing," I said now feeling uncomfortable with seeing my dad look sad for the first time ever. I never before could've imagined him being upset or even sad that something happened to me, let alone caring enough to come see me in the hospital.
"Why are you so calm? Do you know how your mother and I felt?! Why would you do that?!" He snapped at me.
"I didn't get hit on purpose," I said. "I'm sorry!"
"You walked right into oncoming traffic and you tell me it wasn't on purpose?!" He looked angry as usually did, so I decided not to argue with him. The last thing I needed was an extended stay at this hospital.
"Then I guess I acted subconsciously and felt that I just didn't want to live anymore," I shrugged.
"You left the house, and now this happens? Did you leave because you wanted to kill yourself? I don't want to even think about what could've happened had I not woken up to take the hospitals call," he ranted. "You were out cold and you wouldn't answer no matter how much your mother called you. Ay, I can't even cry anymore....."
Cry? "How many hours have I been out?" I asked. Surely a few hours isn't too worrisome.
"Hours? It's been two days! You.....forget it, you should just focus on recovering," I noticed the dead look on my dads face. His usual clean shave was replaced by a thin beard and mustache coming in, indicating that he hadn't been home. His hair was greasier than normal showing that he hasn't even taken a shower yet either. The bags under his eyes looked heavier than they ever had before, and his red swollen eyes show that he had truly been crying profusely.
"Dad-"
"You know, I thought it didn't matter if you were miserable or not, as long as I kept you in line and doing what you're supposed to be doing. I genuinely thought everything I was doing was just to help you out because life isn't fair or easy," he confessed. "But not anymore, I can't do this with you anymore. I can't get the image of your mangled bloody body out of my head. I can't forget hearing about how you almost bled out. Now that I look at you, I'm reminded of your face when you stoped breathing. I'm exhausted."
"I didn't mean for this to happen-"
"I'm sorry, Vincenzo. I shouldn't have tried venting to you, you're in no state to hear me complain about my own feelings. I'll call Martin back up," dad stood up and turned his back to me. Even like this he acted as if he was disgusted with me.
"I didn't try to kill myself," I stated to him clearly. "It was purely an accident. I used to think that there was no reason to live anymore, but now that I'm awake after almost dying, I'm happy to be alive. Thanks for visiting."
Dad froze but didn't turn around. "Y-your leg. It was badly broken and the doctors were worried about crush syndrome being an issue but the fluid loading worked well and they were able to salvage your leg. You're in the ICU so you can be monitored properly for any complications but with physical therapy and proper rest and care you should gain most, if not all, sensation and function."
"I'm sorry, it's my fault."
"It's not your fault, Vincenzo. It's mine."
I had to admit that i didn't know what most of my dad's actions meant but i understood the gist of it. That my leg was going to be okay and that my dad was making an effort to care.
I wasn't sure what the hell to say. "Thank you?"
He nodded. "You're welcome."
"Since you're here, can I ask you something?" I boldened myself up to say. Luckily instead of leaving the room like he intended, he lingered by the door without turning back to me. "D-did you think that I'm a burden on you as well?"
"I'd be lying if I said no," dad confessed with his back still turned to me. Was it so bad that he couldn't even face me?
I never asked for this life. I never asked to be born the way I am. And I certainly never asked for the responsibility placed before me. It's inconceivable to even imagine that this is my life. I can't even begin to count the number of times I have wished to be someone else – someone normal. I hate it. I hate all of it. Why me? Why not someone else? I know for a fact there is someone out there aching for my life. Every day I hear comments about how wonderful it must be to be me and have people basically worshipping me. Oh sure, I'm really lucky to be able to get by on a handsome face. I'm really lucky to be able to hear conversations no one else could had the privilege to. And even if I had been the biggest bully in school, no bully could have ever done anything to me.
I just wanted to live and grow and love, not in the way he dictates to me, but in the way I choose. I want my life to be my own, not his. Besides, I could never live up to his expectations in the first place. I've tried...and I've always failed.
He made the choice not to be a father to me. He had his chance to be a real part of my life, and yet he chose to stay distant. No amount of lectures or abuse in the middle of the night could ever make up for the neglect I felt when I was younger – when I needed him there to guide me. That duty fell on the shoulders of another man – a more deserving man – the man I betrayed because, as much as I wanted to deny it, I was the same as my father.
"It was because everything I knew was wrong with myself, is reflected back at me through you. I know it's my fault for making you this way, and I'm sorry," he said plainly.
"Dad, do you love me?" I asked.
"Hm." I didn't know if that was a yes or a no, but I didn't think he was going to elaborate on what he meant. And it wasn't like I was going to ask him to answer clearly when I knew his answer myself.
"How's mom doing?"
"She wants you back at home where you belong."
"That's not going to happen," I told him flat out. Dad exhaled heavily before leaving the room. He didn't even attempt to look at me as he left. Not a peek. But despite all of this, i felt nothing.
Perhaps it was because I had nothing else to lose. I turned to the mirror on the side table so I could get a good look at my face. My skin was nearly as white as the sheets I was curled up in which made me almost look transparent, like a ghost. The only ounce of color that stood out on me now was my overly grown black brown hair, which had lost all of its shine from lack of nourishment, and my green eyes which were now a bit swollen and surrounded by dark circles. My body felt very weak, terribly frail, as if all of my bones were prominent as my muscles had gone through six years of decay. Luckily boxing with Martin had hade my body hard again.
I look like I've been to hell, but my face is mostly unharmed.
Going back to school was going to be a pain in the ass. I've always hated the insistent chattering of people around me. If it were a few, I would not have minded much. But when I'm crowded like I usually am at school, it's like a buzzing noise in my ear. Never stopping, never ending, and always just buzzing. It was annoying. And it bothers me immensely. I'm not even sure why I've been putting up with it for so long.
The tiny space of the hospital room, slowly started to upset my sense of focus without a distraction. I don't like closed spaces much. They remind me a little of the times my dad locked me in the closet to teach me whatever lesson he was trying to teach me. I always had troubles breathing for days after that happened. And the panic attacks had begun to appear then. Martin and Danny usually were there to distract me so I had become a master at hiding it.
But they weren't here right now.
And no one else knew about my fear of closed spaces, not even Martin. Though i suspected that maybe he had a hunch about it, but other than that, I made sure to never reveal it to anyone. And the only time I accidentally did, was when I told Giacomo. I didn't tell him I was claustrophobic, just that I wasn't comfortable with tight spaces, because of breathing problems that occur when one stays in such a place.
Of course I had gotten better over time. Until it was too quiet, too hard to breathe, too painful, too much of a reminder of everything i'd ever lost. I hated the reminders of the past. I hated them a bit too much. But I can't help the dislike that grew from within me. How could I? They only reminded me of everything i'd never get back and made me more depressed.
I realized recently what's fucked up about being a bully. The respect and admiration you get from others for being shitty and looking down on people.
Its crazy how people adore you when you become popular for being a source of misery and pain to peaceful people. You get high off of real respect, while your victims get a sort of fake pity and blame from others, and then they get treated as whinny bitches when they hit rock bottom and become desperate. Never in my life have I seen someone playing hero and standing against a bully in defense of others to break the social order.
If you stay ignorant of things, you never feel bad. But what does it feel like when it hits you close to your heart? When you're responsible for helping almost kill someone? It feels like war: if you let your guard down then you're fucked, and there's no comeback from being at the bottom of the social pyramid. I've seen bullies become the bullied in a matter of seconds. It's times like that when you realize it was all for nothing, a zero-sum game meant only to keep your head above the water, and the sad fact is that some of the people you bullied could have been good friends that would hear your problems out, unlike the pack of assholes that were the popular kids cheering you on like sadistic fucks. I often saw the kids who liked to talk about space and joined them in conversation, but I was the reason they had to disband because I lied to someone to save face and said they pissed me off.
I didn't want to participate in it anymore. It sucks. I've learned my lesson. Until recently, I didn't realize I was being that cruel; rather, I thought I was just getting annoying people out of the way, and at the same time, improving my own reputation in the eyes of other people I have no respect for. It's very powerful and satisfying in the short run, but it never fills the empty hollow feeling inside.
This must be just the beginning of my karma.
"Hello?" Sam popped his head in suddenly snapping me out of my thoughts. "Are you really looking in a mirror after waking up?"
"I was just checking my face. Come in."
"Okay, but I'm not the one coming in," he said before disappearing from the door. A few seconds later Danny entered the room by himself looking like he was alive again. "Call me if you need help and make it quick."
"Hi," he said. I could tell that he was keeping a safe distance from me. One where i couldn't reach him at all. It makes a lot of sense to me. After all, I wouldn't have even showed up if I were him.
"Hey. I guess Sam-"
"You didn't do this on purpose did you?" He immediately asked. I could've gotten mad at the implication but he had every right to question me about this. He had more than reason to think that this was all just a ploy for attention.
"No, it was an accident. I thought I had time to cross and I wasn't actually paying attention," I explained. Danny gave me a surprised but cautious look. I guess if there was anytime to ever have a normal conversation, it would be now. It was the thing I've owed him for the longest time.
"I'm sorry about everything I did and I'm not saying it to get anything, I should've just accepted your decision from the beginning. I'm not asking for forgiveness, I'm just sorry I went crazy like that," I said quickly. "I shouldn't have done all of that because I liked you. Ah, I don't mean anything by that-"
"Vincenzo." Danny said sternly cutting me off. What the hell was he doing here anyway? If Ashton found out, who knows what he might do. "I just want to know....you could've had anyone you wanted. Why did it have to be me?"
"Why? Even I have that question sometimes," even though I knew the reason, I didn't want to sound like I was fishing for sympathy, but I still had to tell him something. "Probably because I was envious of you."
"You envy me?"
"Before I even knew I was perusing you, I was already pursuing you. You always were weak, but you still had all the strength I didn't have. Even after we started to grow apart, you were the only one with enough strength to move forward without me even though you were alone. It's also because of you that I was able to be strong myself a few times, like when I moved from my parents home," I'm rambling. "What am I saying? Anyway, the fact that I like you hasn't changed."
"Well then, I'm glad you're ok." He said awkwardly looking at my leg. The dynamic of this felt weird in the reverse order for me. Usually I was the one fighting back pitiful looks while looking down on him in a hospital bed. Now I knew the humiliation of being absolutely powerless in a hospital bed while people tried to show sympathy. It just made me wonder why Danny wasn't telling me that I had this coming. Why wasn't he laughing and telling me I deserved it. "Well, I'm glad you're mostly ok."
"I'm honestly just remembering a lot, but if I were to speak on it, it would all come off as excuses or something. Listen, I know you hate me, and if I were you, I wouldn't choose to ever forgive me in this lifetime. In fact, thinking back, I must've been delirious when I was saying those things before-"
"Don't talk about the past, Vincenzo. It's meaningless and it keeps holding you back."
"Dan, I just want to tell you that I've liked you ever since we met all those years ago. It's a big favor to ask for your forgiveness after being shitty to you for so long, but I don't want to lie anymore. I don't know why it had to be you, all I know is that I'm selfish and I wanted you to only love me and be mine alone and I would've done anything to make it happen. It was my obsession. That's all." I finished what I was saying as vaguely as possible.
"These things don't matter anymore," Danny sighed. How does me helping to give him a heart attack not matter? How does me making his life hell and effecting his health not matter? Why was he being so merciful towards me? He should at least take this chance to kick me in the neck or something! Or at least punch me.
"Well, I know the past can't be changed, but I still want to try harder to change myself and be a better person," I told him. "It's not to get with you, I know you're with Ashton and I'm not trying to get involved. And even though Ashton told me to never talk to you again, I didn't want to leave things the way they were. I'm very lonely and and I'm scared that I'll never have you in my life again. But even if you hate me, I still wanted to have a normal conversation one last time if possible. I know I have no right to ask for this but.....please talk to me."
Danny looked completely taken aback as he searched for words to say. In the end he just settled on a warm lively gentle smile that I hadn't seen since we were in elementary school. "You've finally changed back to yourself. I'll hear you out again."
My heart fluttered and I suddenly felt bad for playing on the soft spot I knew he would always have for me, but praise from him after all this time felt better than anything I had ever experienced before. "Hear me out, I should've trusted you back then. I ruined everything because I was too anxious. I was too arrogant and I want to have everything. But now that I've lost everything, I'm really only left with regret. I'm not trying to be pathetic and beg you to come back to me or anything. I just really don't know how else to word it."
"Well, at least you're ok, Vincenzo," Danny reached out and ruffled my hair like he used to do when we were kids, making me feel completely flustered.
I removed his hand from my head and started freaked out. "Y-you should go. If Ashton finds out-"
"Ashton doesn't know that I'm here. Sam and I were supposed to go shopping for Soyoung, but then he told me about this and I wanted to see if you're ok."
"Why check on me?"
"I assumed your parents wouldn't show up at all," Danny said honestly. Good old Danny, blunt and to the point. "They don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to you."
"Why would you want to see me?"
"Regardless of what happened, there's still seventeen years of history between us. I know how hard it is to let go by yourself as well, so I can kind of understand why you lashed out. And you being in the hospital is just sad....but let's not talk about the past, Vincenzo." Danny said. "Anything you want to say?"
"I could tell you somethings about how I was living. After telling you the things I've kept hidden, you might be able to forget all about what happened and we might be able to understand each other better, or you might be more disillusioned by me." I offered half heartedly.
"Martin kinda gave me a rundown on you and your dad's relationship anyway. I won't lie, I sort of had an idea after you started showing up with extra bruises at school, but you always bragged about it being football shit so I never asked more questions," he said. "There's nothing else to be disappointed over, anyway, so let's stop dragging it out. Someday, after you've healed, maybe we can start over as friends. Uh, maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. I'm shit at comforting people."
"Yeah, you really do suck at it," my god. I've never felt like a short conversation has given me so much nourishment before. And his apology, though unexpected, felt nice as well as much as I didn't deserve it. "Thanks for letting me talk to you, Dan. I really missed this. You have no idea."
"Hmm, I guess you really do feel sorry, Ah, forget it. I've gotten used to picking fights but nothing good will come of bringing up the past you know," Danny sighed.
"Can you tell me how you felt?" I asked. "I want to hear it."
"Vincenzo, I don't think that's a good topic right now."
"Please. I need to understand it since everyone does."
Danny sighed but reluctantly spoke. "When we were younger, I basically gave up everything and came up to you. However I did genuinely care a lot for you, even if it was probably just an illusion. Good times turned into me feeling like a clown all the time. I got harassed relentlessly for absolutely no reason and I was scared that I was going to die. Honestly, it took me a long time to get over the feeling of wanting to kill you before you killed me, and for a while, I just wanted to end myself. I became twice as wary of you after finding out that you intentionally isolated me and I thought you were just crazy when you tried to push Ashton down the stairs. Then the Attorney General manipulated you into doing what you did."
"Manipulated."
"Don't get me wrong, I still give you some of the blame for that, but that recording was obviously proof of her intimidating a mentally unstable person into doing what she wanted. You were being a bit psychotic so I can't reasonably put all the blame on you at the time. I didn't even feel betrayed by what you did, I just expected terrible things from you all the time. My dad feels awful about what was going on and Uncle Mickey had no idea, but he didn't like you from the start and you're kind of lucky I never told him," Danny said. "It just sucked watching you turn into such a crappy person so quickly. In the end I still choosing to believe that there are no bad people, just bad things scared people do."
Only expected terrible things? It's not like I had ever cared about the effects I had on anyone else, but to be only expected to do bad things hit me right in a vulnerable spot. I stared at the ceiling, hands behind my head as I listened to the Danny's soft breathing.
I could tell Danny had already forgiven me, but I still couldn't forgive himself. I knew deep down the burden of what I have already done. I put a scar on him that could potentially forever. I hurt him more than anyone else. Danny would never again safe with me. In fact, part of the reason why I couldn't let myself let it go was because i didn't want to acknowledge that it was me that created this horrible expectation for myself.
My mind kept wandering back to what he said. 'there are no bad people, just bad things scared people do'. The memory had me let out a dry, humourless chuckle. If only he knew. If only he knew how horrible some people could be, how horrible some monsters could be. If only he knew about...i would never think about hurting Danny directly on purpose.
But that didn't change the fact that I did. Sure I wasn't in the right mindset when it happened, but I still felt like a horrible person.
There are no bad people, just bad things scared people do...
Was dad just a scared person...?
I sat up and rubbed my temples. No. I couldn't think about that. I didn't want to think about the possibility that I was just a shitty person like my dad. At least...not now.
"Am I a burden on you?" I pried.
"Yes," Danny said. "But I'm moving passed that and the long term effects with Ashton's help."
"What do you think of me?" I stupidly asked.
"Everything about you is terrible when it comes to your current personality. Your stammering makes you look like an idiot, you're physically strong but emotionally weak, your determination is non-existent and you have no clue what you're doing most of the time," i looked downwards to the floor as each word hammered into me with startling clarity. At least he could be truthful with me now.
"Does he treat you well?"
"Better than anyone else ever has," Danny seemed to be fighting off a smile for my sake. It used to be only my name that he would light up for, now that Ashton has replaced me, I wasn't sure how else to feel but angry and jealous about it. "We're actually going to same college.... That reminds me, what are you going to do after high school?"
"I'll probably start working or something," I said.
"You can get a scholarship, you know. Your grades aren't that bad," Danny suggested. "You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, so you should at least aim for one."
I can't believe he's worried about my future at all. Why should he even care about what I do after high school? Why did he even want me to keep doing well and succeed? "Are you an Angel?" I asked before I fought the urge to cover my mouth with my hand a second later. I also fought the extreme blush creeping up. I wasn't supposed to say things like that out loud anymore- but it had just come out! Honest! And Ashton wasn't even there to hear it so I don't even know if what I was saying was ok.
Danny looked right at me, surprise lighting his face all the way up. He still smiled at me, and it made his face even more beautiful than usual. Not that I was supposed to think about that. He's not my person, so I'm not allowed to see him that way at all. That made it easier for me I guess. Sometimes.
"An angel?" he asked. I wanted to explain but I probably wasn't supposed to. I felt like it would do more harm than good. I was supposed to tell him that I could help myself with my problem and I'm continuing therapy to I figure myself out more. He could help me- he was good at making me feel better even if he couldn't have been there to help fix me in the past couple years. But, these thoughts were going to send me back into old habits of codependency.
"Never mind," I said, "It's silly." Before I could say something that would make it worse, and before Danny had a chance to think of a response to whatever I had said, i spoke again. "You should go. You never know when Ashton might appear. Plus my dad might be coming back in a few."
Danny looked at his phone, I think for the time and nodded. "Right, I hope you feel better, Vincenzo and heal up quickly. Let's keep this visit a secret, ok?"
"Ok," I nodded in agreement. Danny turned his back to me, bring that lonely feeling back to me. "Um, I'm happy for you and Ashton." I lied. "I hope you guys can make each other happy."
"Even though you're lying, thank you. I hope one day we can meet again and you'll mean it. Good luck moving forward," Danny waved goodbye to me before leaving my room, quite similarly to my dad: no looking back.
I suddenly felt guilty about him leaving that way because I was feeling like shit. I couldn't help it though, because when I thought about it, i could still see a real future with Danny. I see the good times we could've had. I could see us growing older together, doing homework together in college, spending sleepy Sundays on the couch watching tv, adopting kids in Italy and everything in-between. Those damn visuals though kept flying through my brain.
There are no bad people, just bad things scared people do.
Those lines kept repeating themselves in my head like a bad song. For what seemed like an eternity i felt on the verge of tears, hearing in my head the words that sentenced the boy I cared about fiercely to death. I was so caught up in it that I didn't hear Martin come in and sit beside the bed.
"I don't need to be a psychic to know what you're thinking," Martin looked at me with a sad look in his eyes as he handed me a takeout box with Chinese food. He was the only one outside of Dr. Mancini that knew the extent of my obsession and how hard I was trying to put it behind me once and for all. If there was anyone in the world who knew what I was feeling it was him. I opened my food to try and distract myself from how much this was actually killing me inside.
"You don't have to feel guilty about it," Martin said. "Everything turned out alright and Danny looks like he's recovered."
"It was awful."
"I understand how you feel, Vinny, and you aren't a horrible person for not being over it yet. I've felt the same way. I wasn't keen on losing him either, but we both did. You've lost so much in your life already and you don't want to lose him too. I know how both of you feel actually and I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that Danny does not feel the same way about anyone else but Ashton," Martin dug into his food. "What's that saying? ."
"Yeah, at least there's that," I sighed picking at my food. Tonight I was definitely going to lose sleep from thinking about Danny and our conversation. The first real one we've had in years. I know this because I can't stop wishing that things were different. That he would see me in a hospital bed and forget his feelings for Ashton. That he would nurse me back to health and be with me instead.
Of course it would never happen in this lifetime, but a boy could dream. Regardless, I felt more motivated than ever to try and overcome the feeling of this crushing, fucked up, corrupted first love.
I guess the first thing I should do is give all of his thing back to him that I took from his room over the years. Or, since it's been so long, I should just throw it all away. Would that be considered bad?
Fuck!
"I have things of his that I should give back to-"
"Throw it out and stay away from him dude. You promised Ashton that day in exchange for both our therapy, on top of that, Sam just paid your hospital bill, so just keep yourself inline, Vinny," Martin told me. "It's for your own good in the end. Plus this therapy is working for me because the doctor is better. So don't fuck it up."
"Ok, fine," I sighed. It would pain me to let go of the things I took from him, even though it was all stolen property, but I knew just how necessary this is.
To be successful, I had to rid my mind of Danny completely.