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aim ex.
"I'm gonna be honest," like I should've long ago, "I don't even know what to say right now I-I just...wanted to hear your voice." The white backgrounds and black block letters and the steady clickclickclick of keys on the phone seemed so impersonal, sometimes it was easy to forget he was talking to a real person. His admission was childish but apparently that's what Neil thought of him anyway. Lying gingerly on his back he glared up at the ceiling like it was to blame, shooting daggers might make him feel better. "You're right, you know," Sam started again this time swinging his legs and making him bounce a little bit on the bed so his voice wavered. "I'm a childish, ignorant little shit who's terrified. I play mind games because I'm terrified of the truth not because I can't handle it, because it's just so real. I've tried for so long to disillusion myself from the actual world, living in my own little fantasies but they're not complete. They have huge and gaping holes in them where you and me intertwined isn't enough because yeah, I'm confused. Sometimes I get lost driving back to my own apartment because my head isn't in the right spot but there's one thing in my entire life that I have never, ever been confused about," he rambled for a considerable time before shutting up. Sam didn't know what he was saying anymore just letting his heart push his brain aside and start flapping it's gums.

response.
 
"Stop it!" Sam barked going rigid, back straight as he sat up and pulled at the thin comforter between his fingers. "You're the one trying to placate me because for once you can't figure out what I'm really going to say or what's really going on in my head, and you know what Neil?" His voice lowered dangerously and yeah Sam should probably keep his arrogance and his attitude in check because fucking up this conversation could do much more damage than he'd like. "I think you're the one who's terrified." Worrying at his lip he stood to pace again around the beds, around the television, weaving his own patterns in and out while he thought. Well not so much think but to dissect the words on the tip of his tongue that all wanted to come out at once, all wrong. He quieted finding solace in an especially dark corner of the hotel room entry where light could not reach shrinking down into the corner and pulling his legs up as tightly as he could to his chest. "At times, I've been confused about you. I wondered why you put up with me when I turned your life upsidedown, why you stuck by me in the band so long when your heart wasn't in it. They're trivial moments that my mind toys with still day in and day out." He could feel his throat constricting, telling himself that he wasn't going to get emotional because that'd do no good. Neil would write it off as him playing it up and he didn't want that. He swallowed once, again, again, it wasn't going away, made him choke out a breath and bury his face into his knees. "The other night, I just...I want to know why I couldn't...why I-I wasn't...I mean," he stuttered giving up and growing quiet. "I'm sorry," he said in a despondent whisper, hitting the red end button and staring at the phone.

response.

Sam set a new record for the amount of time he sat still in that corner. His hands were cold at the ends where he'd been clutching his phone so tightly that it was cutting off circulation, eyes not tearing from the screen nor blinking in hopes that maybe, just maybe it would light up and buzz and ring and Neil's name would appear before him. His lungs burned from not breathing, muscles tense to the point of quivering like after waking up from an awful nightmare. His jaw was set and why was Sam so surprised? He wasn't going to call him back. He'd put the last nail in his coffin, he was sure, and now the other boy wasn't going to be around anymore. One too many mind games, one too many moments where he came so close to breaking. Why was it that he was so eloquent with words when he wasn't speaking? His mind was racing speaking in lyrics and metaphors and sometimes, most of the time, he wished he could think clearly so that he could just get all his shit laid out on the table. Amidst his thinking his grip had loosened sending the sidekick to the floor and startling him. It was then that his heart kicked back in, blood thrumming through his veins because he had to call him back rightthissecond, he didn't want to perpetuate the situation and let it go. Sam called him waited and waited for an answer because that's all he'd wanted. He needed a plain and simple answer.