"You know, when he takes really long showers, you realize
he's probably not just enjoying the water? He's probably
sitting on the bathroom floor, back facing the door, staring at
his palms, wondering what the hell he's doing. He's
sixteen, it's the middle of the school year and he thousands
of miles from home. How confused do you think he is? His brother
died two years ago, and he's still not over it, yet on top of
that, he lost his sister this year too. He's probably patting
his pockets, looking for a razor, but not for his face, to drag
across his skin. Have you seen his arms? Have you seen the scar
etched into the crook of his elbow? "Worthless."
He's the most sad he's ever been when he's with you,
because you remind him of everything wrong in his life. You
remind him of the sad conversations at 4am, because that's
all there was between the two of you. You were just best friends.
And now, he probably misses his ex. He heard you liked him, and
he thought about the fact that he was so close to you, that he
missed you so much, that he mistaked it for love. He knows
he's not in love with you. You know it too. That's what
he's doing. He's staring at his palms, and tears are
welling up in his eyes, and he reaches for the shower because he
needs to scold his skin under boiling hot water. He's
desperately trying to feel something. By now, he's probably
standing under the boiling hot water, tears streaming down his
face, and he whispers softly to himself, "you need to keep
it together." Come here, if you press your ear against the
door, I bet you could hear him let out one sob. That's when
he's momentarily lost control. There won't be any other
sobs, he's regained his control. He's gonna finish
washing himself, he's gonna towel off his hair, and he's
going to walk out of that bathroom with a ridiculous grin
plastered on his face. I would know, I've been there so many
times."