43. Dylan
43
DYLAN
I cing Brad out had been a test. Maybe it was petty, maybe I shouldn’t have since it could have been resolved so many other ways, but the year started and he still hardly reached out, still barely responded. It sucked, because we’d been friends for so long, that I truly thought nothing would change. What an idiot.
I’d hoped that even if he changed his mind about us dating, he would at least like me enough as a friend to tell me. That he’d be able to help me figure out what went wrong, but there was none of that. He just ignored me, so I could ignore him back.
It felt childish and immature, but I kept thinking that this meant that he’d ask me what was going on. Maybe it was enough he’d pull me aside and ask what was up. Didn’t happen, though, he just ignored it and then kept going like normal.
So fuck it, I’d be over it too. I lay on my dorm room bed, trying to lull myself to sleep. My roommate was some guy I didn’t really talk to, but none of my other friends were interested in sharing with me. Theo and Shane lived off-campus, but I couldn’t afford that, so I stuck to the dorms. Somewhere in my dad’s sadness, he managed to pay the bills for school. At least there was that.
Brad had probably just figured out he didn’t want to be with me like that and didn’t know how to break it to me. If that was the case, the message was loud and clear. I knew better than to go into things with too many expectations, but somehow I still found myself disappointed.
Theo had asked me if I was okay, and I’d assured him I was. Even he’d noticed that Brad was behaving strangely, which said something since Theo was pretty dense. I was almost positive that Shane had also noticed something being off. Of all of us, he was the most perceptive, keyed into the different ways we all interacted. Since his whole reformation to stay out of things, however, he tried not to meddle very often. Part of that included not demanding to know what was going on, waiting for us to talk to him.
Part of me wished he would ask. I wouldn’t know what the hell to say, but it would mean something. I rolled over, taking a deep breath as I tried to calm my racing thoughts. The only saving grace was sleep sometimes. I didn’t enjoy feeling this way, not when I felt like this at home, too.
The problem was, I was as bad as my dad. I kept things all bottled up and didn’t know how to handle them. I just kept it all hidden away and ignored the problems. My preferred method was sleep, just resting until whatever it was cleared up or until I could move onto the next thing.
There were things I needed to do for class, things I could have gotten a head start on, but it all felt like too much. Like it required more of me than I could give. That was the problem with creative things. It seemed like they drug up a lot of emotions that couldn’t be silenced. Maybe that was the way I could get over it, the only way I could process what the hell was going on.
I wasn’t ready to process it, though. Because it all felt like the end to me. It all spoke to a sense of silence I wasn’t ready to accept. Brad was my best friend. Above all else, above us dating or fucking or how much we liked each other that way, he was my friend. He was the one I spent so much time with, the one I hung with at parties and escaped in the middle of the night to hang out on the deserted quad.
It was only the afternoon. Too many people were around, too many things were happening. Yet sleep wouldn’t come easily. It didn’t want to give me the salvation. I pulled out my phone. No one messaged me.
Sighing, I scrolled for a little while. If I could just numb my thoughts, maybe that would help. I paused when I ran into a photo of Brad, something that looked like it was frat related. He smiled that bright, beautiful smile as his arm looped around some scrawny blond kid. They were doing rush now, so he was busy. Always busy.
I thought about the future, and somewhere along the way, it split for me. There was a future where Brad and I were together, one where he played football and he was Mr. Americana, and there was me by his side. It didn’t quite match. He was so perfect and broad, smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world, where I was far from perfect and looked tired and moody.
The other vision was where we’d go if we stayed friends. He’d be off doing his perfect football thing, and I’d be doing music, and we’d only see each other once in a while when our schedules were free. It would never be the same as it was now, but we’d see each other sometimes and talk about the way things used to be.
Fuck, maybe Shane had gotten to me, thinking too much about the future and what we’d regret, but I couldn’t help but wonder if during those catch up lunches if we’d talk about our summer in Europe. If we’d think about the time, we were foolish enough to try dating and making it work between us.
Sighing, I threw my arm over my eyes. Why couldn’t I get my thoughts to quiet down? Was it because I didn’t have any answers?
Maybe Brad had already given me the answers I needed, though.
If he didn’t want to keep it going, if he wanted to be distant, then maybe that was enough. I wasn’t clingy, but there had to be the smallest amount of give and take. I couldn’t just wait around, hoping he’d change his mind or come crawling back.
He was busy, sure, but he was always busy. This was different, though — I knew that deep down in my bones. Things couldn’t ever be the same.