FicWad

----------------------------------------
Frank’s POV
----------------------------------------

I hate myself.
I walk down the high street daring someone to say something to me. I dodge old people and toddlers alike. I search the faces of young mothers and market stall holders.
Do you notice? Do you care?
I walk robotically, allowing my feet to carry me where ever they feel like going. There’s a busker singing his heart out to an old Oasis song he’s strumming on an even older guitar. I pass him by the same as everyone else.
Why do you bother to try and reach these people?
The odd flower stands proudly in raised flower beds. The rest have been squashed or eaten by pigeons. The sight brings tears to my eyes. I blink them back angrily, hastily replacing my happy exterior.
Would you cry at my funeral? Would you even come?
A couple are arguing outside of McDonalds. I block out his angry voice and her upset one. I have enough of my own misery to deal with.
I want to die. I really do.
I could kiss goodbye to all of this shit. I could walk away and not look back. I wouldn’t have to worry about these feelings running through me. I wouldn’t have to care about you, me, or anything. I would be free. I would be gone. Forever.
Would you stop me?
I don’t know. You’re so unreadable. Sometimes you seem to care but then you shut up and I don’t know what you’re thinking. I love you… you want me. I never expected you to love me. Who could love a man who doesn’t even like himself? So we’re just mates who fuck occasionally, who cares?
I do.
I’d marry you. If it was physically possible I would have kids with you but as we’re both guys that would be a bit hard. I’d spend the rest of my life with you if you wanted me that long but I’ll get boring sooner or later then I’d have nothing to love for. You’re my reason to live. The only one.
And you couldn’t care less.
I don’t know if you know how much this is hurting me. Part of m wants you to know because we used to be close, you used to know me better than I knew myself, and I want us to still have that. Part of me wants to believe you don’t because that way you wouldn’t be intentionally hurting me. Part of m doesn’t care anymore because when it comes down to it you’re just another person who doesn’t care.
I hate myself so much right now you could never ever understand.
I carry on walking. People give me odd looks. I look odd. It’s life I suppose. I get annoyed at all this being so ordinary even though it shouldn’t be. My happy façade cracks every now and then but I fix it back up again in time for anyone’s ‘caring’ second glance. It’s one of the reasons I look so odd. One minute I look like anyone else and the next I look like a man with the fate of the world resting over his head.
I don’t want to live anymore.
I cry it out with my mind. Willing someone to notice that I’m not Ok. That I need some help. That I’m not a bad person, I’m just fucked up. I see you then. You’re walking towards me but you haven’t seen me yet. I want the ground to swallow me whole. I want to drop dead on the spot.
“Hey Frank you alright?” You ask in a friendly voice. I nod once and bite my lip.
No. I love you.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”