Can You Find Me? II: Exordium

Disclaimer: Mature Content

I always knew there was something fucked up in my head.

It wasn’t like I was really destined to be this way. Mom and dad were in the picture from birth. Neither of them ever raised a hand to me that was too harsh or spoke a word to me that was too cruel. My mother doted on me for every minor achievement I made growing up and my father was your typical suburban dad, dead-set on making me the king of football or baseball while teaching me life lessons on how to be a man. We had money, we had a nice house, and I never went for longer than a day without something I asked for. Sure, I was a spoiled kid but I wasn’t a spoiled brat. My best friend in high school was even more well-off than I was and anyone would call him a good kid. A good friend, a good guy, a good son, yet his only faults were a short fuse and a tendency to be over-protective. At least his mistakes never hurt anybody; Mine did.

In regards to the “Nature vs. Nurture” argument I have trouble seeing where my nurturing failed me. I mean, maybe my good life was the reason for my problems, but then I remember my best friend and that he doesn’t have the same issues I do. In fact, he doesn’t have any of the same issues that I do. He had his emotional outbursts so that it was no secret what was going on in his head. I was always calm, cool, and collected. My demons rarely came to the surface.

I grew up being everything my parents wanted me to be. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to play baseball and take photography classes, I’m just lucky that I wasn’t stuck doing anything that I hated. I was being cultivated into the perfect little plant for all to see. Once I hit high school my GPA and sportsmanship spoke for themselves. By junior year I was good-looking, I was successful, and I was popular. My future seemed unlimited to everyone else but me. My paraphilia was the demon hidden inside of me, waiting for me to slip back into his clutches at any moment. I started over-stepping my boundaries as a child. Many young children are caught and disciplined for certain behaviors before it can get worse. Sadly, I was never caught and never disciplined. Because of this, what started as simple curiosity morphed into a complete obsession. That obsession took me down an unforgivable road that put some of the most precious people in my life in danger.

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It Takes A Year: Part Four

[Updated: 4/20/17]

As Will laid alone in his bed I was miles away draped over an unfamiliar couch. Drunken bodies decorated the rest of the room, framing my limp form in the center. I heard my phone nip at my thigh three times after I hung up on him. I didn’t flinch a single time. I knew he had probably poured his heart out to me through the screen and I didn’t have the will to illuminate my face with his fractured words. I felt entirely hollow. The only thing filling my senses were the light breaths of the unconscious ones around me and the soft clicking of dishes in the kitchen. I had forgotten that there was at least one other person awake. I traced their footsteps around the house until they finally creaked into the living room.

“You’re still alive huh?”

It was the party hosts’ roommate, Tyler. I’d seen him around my circle a few times and knew him for how chill he was about letting people over. He wasn’t much of a drinker but smoked a lot whenever we were all together. Even from a few feet away I could smell the cigarettes underneath his cologne.

“Barely,” I said with complete honesty.

“Ah. Well I hope you don’t plan on puking on the floor like my brother did. That shit was gross.”

“No, I think I’ll be fine in that department.”

“There’s that at least. Do you want some water though?”

“Umm…Yeah. Water would be good.”

“Coming right up.”

He turned and went back into the kitchen. I listened to him pull down a glass and fill it with water from the fridge. My hand grasped lightly at my pocket, tempted to finally read your messages. I was just about to pull out my phone when he returned.

“I put ice in if that’s okay,” he said, handing the glass to me.

“Yeah that’s fine. Thanks Tyler.”

“No problemo. I’m pretty much the designated baby sitter at this point. Though it looks like all the other kids are knocked.”

“Yeah…” I laughed weakly. Tyler sat in the armchair beside the couch as I took small sips from the glass. He started scrolling through his phone, the illumination bringing his face into view from the darkness. The light in the kitchen crept a couple feet past its threshold, stopping just before the shadows of the living room. I sat there in silence before glancing up at him. He had steel gray eyes and undercut black hair. He looked so young to me.

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It Takes A Year: Part One

[Updated: 2/9/17]

It took a year to destroy his heart.

And I’ll never forget that year.

He came to me with a wide smile and a worn out soul. I was high on freedom and he was lost in loneliness when he stumbled through the haze. I had just gotten to the venue and headed to the bar to grab a drink with my friends. We returned to the floor and leaned carefully against the rails in front of the stage, a gaggle of pretty faces and dewy skin. I saw him among the crowd. His brown hair was swept back away from that handsome face, the face I’d see covered in tears many times after. Who knows why my eyes didn’t wander to the other men for the rest of the night? I suppose destiny wanted to play games with me.

I noticed a couple of girls and guys tagging along with him. I nudged my friend and nodded his way.

“Check this guy out.”

“Oh my god.”

“Right?”

“Go talk to him!”

The other girls and I turned into a giggling mess. I agreed to go talk to him if one of my friends went and talked to some blonde gym junkie nearby. It was only supposed to be a spectator sport. It was never meant to spiral into the depths that it did. A year was never supposed to start here.

When I started heading his way I was glad that I had taken a little extra effort to do my hair and makeup that night. That was back when I flaunted what I had when I had to. He’d later hold those nights against me.

As I approached him I had the shallow hope that one of those girls wasn’t his girlfriend. Even if one of them was I hoped that it was the one with the big nose and the baggy jeans, someone who couldn’t immediately hold a candle to me. I’m not going to act like I was a nice person back then. I wasn’t. I never was.

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