Chapter Twenty-Seven

Weightless. That's the only way I can describe myself right now because it's the only word that seems to make the minutest bit of sense.

I can't say whether or not I'm fond of the feeling right now.

Sure, it feels nice to not have to worry about the more complicated parts of my life. At the same time, how can I be sure that this isn't going to let me drift away. The problem with feeling weightless after being tethered down for so long, is that you forget to stop floating upwards. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to stay rooted to the Earth. I wanted to remain where people like Xavier existed; at the crossroads of emotionally damaged, and self-assured.

I cannot sleep through this feeling. Part of me chalks it down to my body releasing chemicals to try and dull the pain of everything. But I know the only reason that I haven't passed out yet is because my brain is alive.

There are these thoughts swimming through my brain and making me feel as if I'm on fire. The warmth of my own body trumps the need for the countless layers of blankets covering me right now. Truthfully, I'm sweltering, but I don't bring myself to peel away and let my body be permeated with the night air. I know it might be reasonable for me to start getting comfortable, because I'm not leaving here tonight. At the same time though, how can I? How can I even think of making this place feel like another home to me? There was no denying that's what would happen once I let my guard down.

My hands are locked together, and my eyes are trained towards the ceiling, just looking at the slivers of light that have come from the illumination of the moon. Keeping my breaths steady, I listen out for the other boy's in hope that he too, like me, cannot bring himself to sleep.

But I don't hear anything, either because he is a light sleeper, or that he is in the same boat as myself.

A sudden sharp breath leaves me, and it feels like I'm floating closer to the ceiling again. I breath out carbon dioxide, and instead breath in helium. Light as a feather, stiff as a board.

The sheets next to me rustle slightly, and all at once I wish I could just take the last few moments back. There's movement, and it's enough to confirm my suspicions that Xavier isn't quite ready to call it a night as of yet. The breaths that come to me now are once again heavy, and burn like hell. Silently, I cursed my father and his mean swings.

Looking slightly off to the side, I met his face, to see that his eyes were on me. For a few moments he remained almost motionless before contorting his body fully over so that he was now turned to face me.

"Hey," he said softly through the silence.

"Hi," I murmured back to him.

"Trouble sleeping?" His eyes lit themselves with something that could only be described as some sort of genuine concern. The rest of him remained a wall though, so I can't say for certain whether I was just looking for the pieces of him I wanted to look for.

The question itself posed an interesting proposition. Sleep for me had always been easy to find. It was a convenient way to escape the real world. But I couldn't tell him that right now. He'd think I was weird.

Or worse still, he could think that I was trying to escape from everything reality contained.

But the words I wanted to say fell short, muffled by the fire that was lit inside my brain. He was the reason that I was still awake, and part of me wished he knew that. Because a world without him in it seemed like one that didn't deserve to exist in the first place. I'd become an insomniac if it meant getting to spend every moment just sitting, talking with Xavier.

Why would I want to escape from this reality when it held such precious gems as this boy who actually gave a shit about me?

"Sometimes I can't sleep too," he finally said after nothing but silence had befallen us. "Sometimes I just like to lie awake and think about things."

"What kind of things do you think about?" I jump in, fearing he will take my own absence of words to heart. It's more than that though; I want to know how he thinks and how he processes things that might break most normal people.

"It's stupid," he replied dismissively.

"Let me be the judge of that."

Even with darkness highlighting the majority of the room, I could still make out that grin, only emphasized with a low chuckle. Suddenly the room felt like it had been filled with the brightest light, and the warmest heat. It was enough to bring a smile to my own bruised features.

"I don't know," he said, feeling a little bolder in his movements. An arm drooped of the edge of his bed, limply hanging. "I mean I lie awake and think about the things that mattered to me that day."

"Oh," I reply, a little puzzled. "So, what matters to you today? What's keeping you awake?"

There's a shift in the sheets and right away I can tell that there's a change in mood. I'm all too familiar with this feeling. He's uncomfortable, not wanting to talk about things that felt like they would be so easy coming from his mouth.

I want to say forget it. I want to move on from anything that would lead us down some path we were never destined to go down. I want to make him feel comfortable with me here.

Instead, I reach my own hand out. Slowly it finds his own, and for a second I think he's going to pull away. Relief hits me like a brick to the face when he doesn't. I rub my thumb against his palm, and he remains somewhat motionless, eyes still staring into my own.

"It's nothing," he responds. There's a slight pause before he continues. "It's like I think I know who I am and then things happen that make me question things I know."

I stop, and he pulls back.

"Oh."

Without warning, he flips onto his back, arms tucked under his head. The room feels less weightless than before. In fact now it feels like someone has turned the gravity setting on maximum. Breathing hurts more than it should because I'm thinking too much about it, and I know I shouldn't. But right now, I can't help myself.

Xavier sighs, and it's now I can tell the weight to the room has affected him too. Every breath he exhales seems defeated.

"I like my girlfriend Garth," he spoke softly. "She's one of the only few people in this world that will put up with my shit and I have a massive amount of appreciation for her for doing that."

"But?" I can't contain it. Not in the way I know he needs me to hold it together for him.

"But I think I'm not in love with her." The words hit me in the gut. "I am still very much attracted to her, but I dunno, something's just not clicking for me."

"I see," I reply.

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe you both just weren't made for each other in that way..." The words hand on the air, and before I can even hope to take them back, Xavier turns to face me again. He's not angry, but his brows are knitted in this half-concentrating, half-self-actualizing expression. I get it though. There was that air that it was hard to put trust in what I had said considering our past friendship. "Or maybe you've just fallen out of love with her."

His expression grows more troubled.

"I don't get that," he replies softly. "I don't get how one day something can be there and the next it can't."

I want to move closer, but there is space between us for a reason. No matter what I say he will always be cautious of me, and I have no right to fault him for that.

Moving now would just mess his mind up further. Every time I wanted to get closer, it always felt like he was on the verge of approaching something himself. Right now, I couldn't tell what that thing was, but something in me told me that I needed to hold off.

"Things change all the time Xavier," I whisper back to him. "Nothing stays the same forever, not even us."

"I think that's my problem. I'm changing, or rather becoming something that I'm not understanding yet."

He drops his hand to the side once more. There is no movement from either of us for a few moments, before his hand flexes in my direction. Without waiting for a second opinion, I brought my hand back to his, this time grasping it.

"I think I might like guys and girls."

The words are dizzying and they almost make me reel back. Xavier senses that ounce of hesitation and pulls back his own hand before I can do anything. My eyes draw to meet his, trying to pick out the features that paint his face. A joking smirk? An unsure uneasiness? A confident grin? Something, anything, that showed me he meant what he just said.

He didn't need to be scared for himself because I was scared for him. These words he'd just bombarded me with made me feel so secure, and yet I knew that they put him out on the ledge.

"So," I say, my voice cracking and breaking through the stress of the moment. "You're bi?"

He said nothing for the longest moment, before grabbing my hand. "I guess I am."

Part of me thanked the limited lighting of the room, just so he couldn't see the color which had set its way to my cheeks. He might not have been mines in that moment, but now there was a chance.

But it came with a weight. He trusted me with this, and I could never betray this side of him; no matter how much I longed too.