This...ran FAR Away From Me; I'm Sorry - Blog Posts
bxstvrd:
Jonah’s eyes flickered to Nate, and he looked at his roommate, really looked at his roommate, for what felt like the first time. When he thought of Nate, he thought of lightness and air, of loud bravado and effortless friendliness. He almost wanted to fight Nate, wanted to argue with him and insist, no, you’ve never felt like this, no, there’s no way you know what this is like, and yet, he found himself believing Nate completely, without a shadow of a doubt.
It was… surprising, to say the least. That perhaps the feeling in his chest, of waves threatening to overwhelm him, of that not-so-gentle hum of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, maybe he didn’t have to explain them to Nate. Maybe Nate knew already.
“How do you… let them?” he asked, quiet, sincere. Because this, this was the hardest part for him. Somehow, he’d managed to convince two people, Helen and Harry, that he wasn’t just this shitty black hole that consumed and consumed and never gave anything back, and they were there. They wanted to help, and Jonah could not, for the life of him, figure out how to let them.
He wanted to be saved. He wanted to be saved so badly it was killing him. And then, the words were leaving his lips before he could stop them, pure terror infused into every breath, because this was his greatest fear, and he didn’t know why he was asking Nate, didn’t know how he’d allowed himself to trust in less than thirty seconds, but here he was, spilling over and spilling out, and god he just hoped Nate would understand. “What if I let them… what if they try to save me and they can’t? What if every good thing about me has rotted away and when they try to peel back all the bad and find what’s left, there’s just… nothing? What then?”
Jonah had lost his appetite completely, the banana set aside and forgotten. There was no humor that was going to penetrate this, now that Nate had dredged it all up to the surface, like pulling some great shipwreck up from the bottom of the ocean. He was the wreck, and he was somehow also the storm.
“Don’t give me the same bullshit everyone else does,” he said sharply. “The whole everyone can be saved, nobody is too broken crap. Because there are people who are just… born wrong. There are people where no matter how hard you try to be good, it doesn’t take. What are those people supposed to do?” What am I supposed to do?
.
nate hears jonah, and he can’t help but hear the voice of someone who’s clearly wrestling with a lot of heartache and unresolved trauma. while nate’s first instinct is to make jokes or run away from most (emotional) situations, he chooses to sit in it this time. and it’s hard, because it reminds him of some dark places he pulled himself out from. places he wanted to forget about. nate tries to remember that there isn’t any shame in that — in fact, there’s a pride he can take in looking back at all the things he’s been through. what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that cheesy shit.
but nate doesn’t say any of that, because again, jonah isn’t in the space to hear it; in this moment when his roommate is being his most vulnerable, nate wants to help him however he can. not because it’s a good thing to do. because he wants to. even if it might not be what jonah wants to hear.
“now, you’re smart enough to know that life isn’t that cut and dry. it’d be boring if it was. there isn’t just good and bad in the world — this shit is complicated and messy and...sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s worth the trouble.” nate moves to sit at the edge of jonah’s bed and faces him. it was time they got on the same level. “but let’s say you’re right. let’s say...there are some people who are born wrong and have no chance of being ‘saved’, whatever that means. why, then, consider the possibility of opening yourself up to being rescued? that’s some self-fulfilling prophecy bullshit that i don’t agree with. holding the people you love to unrealistic expectations is the quickest way to fuck things for them and for yourself. but if you were honest, you’d admit that you don’t want to push them out. because you hope, at some point, that their kindness will rub off on you.”
nate sighs, because he realizes he’s gone deeper than he’d like on a post-breakfast conversation, but it’s too late to turn back now. at least they’re talking. “jonah, i’ve been where you are. hell, depending on the day, i’ve been a skip away from spending all day in the bed myself. but expecting to be ‘saved’ is not the answer. you know who needs saving? kittens in trees. princesses in fairy tales. babies, like literally all the time.” nate leans forward as if he’s telling jonah as secret.
“unfortunately, you and i are none of those things. there is no saving us, because life just doesn’t happen to us. we have the means to change things, to work towards something different for ourselves. and guess what? sometimes, we gotta get down and just fight for it. so do yourself a favor, do those people who love you a favor, and fucking fight for y-ourself, man.” his voice cracks for a second, but he doesn’t care.
it’s then that nate realizes his eyes are wet. he wipes them dry with the back of his hands.
“....shit.”
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