typing-out

[typing-out]

This Feeling - Part 1

“I used to be darker, then I got lighter, then I got dark again Something too big to be seen was passing over and over me” Jim Cain, by Bill Callahan

TW: Depression

It became clearer, and clearer, that the town would not let Eddie live in peace. It had nothing to do with unkindness, nothing directed at him on purpose, but the scared looks, the avoidance in the halls, the fact that even the teachers no longer tried to force the rules on him. Wayne couldn't get a friendly hello from their neighbors, his avoidance from eye contact became more and more acute, fixing his eyes on his shoes, on his hands, lowering his head in the groceries store. The town was struck with grief, unnamed grief, too many loses, the anger and fear had to be directed somewhere.

Not only that the black eye of death and violence made its mark on him, it started to stare at his friends, whatever was left of his friends. From a group of outcasts, they slowly became as banished as himself, people hesitating before entering the video store, avoiding the basketball court when they were hanging out to watch Lucas practice. The black eye of death marked them by mere association with Eddie, and it was too much to bear.

Even when he was lying in his hospital bed, half-conscious, barely able to talk or breathe freely without hurting himself, ever in the company of Wayne, Mike, or Dustin – it has slowly dawned on him how his broken body, his pure helplessness, did nothing to ease the fear on the nurses faces. Whatever it was he was involved in, whatever it was that caused Max such injuries, that bit into his flesh, had to be related to the deaths and disasters he was associated with.

His graduation hopes where vanished, not now with so much occupying his mind, not with the urge to stay in his room for longer, the light from the window sketching long and dimming lines across his face. He wouldn't be left alone so easily; Wayne wouldn't let him slip away like that. But the rotating watch over him couldn't last long. He was mean, talked back aggressively, blamed them for whatever it was that caused him so much pain. It was unclear to him how they went on with their lives, forming relationships, laughing, bickering over the minute details of life, toppings on pizza and movie night. There was no point in playing anymore, not his guitar, not DnD, because they were a painful proof of how little he knew of life, of pain, of death, and how he couldn't prevent anything from happening. Something stronger and darker always found its way back.

He thought that neglect meant forgetting his needs, leaving him alone without food or clean clothes, day drinking and arbitrary slaps. He knew how to survive that. All the mechanisms of using the hand you are dealt, running away and biting when needed, trusting the gentle hand so long as it doesn't touch for too long. But he knew nothing of the kind of free falling he was experiencing now, the easiness with which he was able to drive away the entire town, his entire life, even his dreams turned black and shapeless. He was no longer suspended mid-air, waiting for someone to come back. He came back, his friends came back, but he knew now how loss was permanent, how pain was permanent, how the abyss finally caught up to him, laying her dark and heavy gentle hand on his mouth.

§

Steve was losing his patience with the box. He yelled a 'god dammit' and kicked it, tearing a hole on the side. At least it gave him the possibility to pull the movie tapes out from there. "Why the hell would you staple a card box shut? What the fuck is wrong with them?"

Robin left the counter and approached him, hands crossed over her chest. "I don't know, just leave it there for the other shift."

They looked miserably at each other. The florescent light brought out the tiredness on both their faces, Steve still red faced from anger and the overhitting of the store. He sat down on the floor, looking up at Robin and down on his jeans, hands fumbling with his shoelaces.

"I should break up-" "you have to talk to-" they said simultaneously. He sighed, and Robin joined him on the floor.

"This is terrible, I can't do that to her."

"It's equally unfair to feel like you do now," Robin answered. "You are both really unhappy."

Steve looked at her. "You guys talk?"

"A little," Robin said. "it's mostly gut feeling. I think she is confused and hurt as much as you, and Jonathan being away doesn't really help with that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" She grabbed one of Steve's shoelaces and rolled it between her fingers. "I think you both came out of the upside down terrified, and fear is a great catalysator for sticking together, and with Eddie pushing you into her arms it just became like the answer, you know? Going back to what you know, that feels safe… She was missing Jonathan, you were missing being in a relationship, it was a good way of solving it."

"I'm not with her just because I don't want to be alone," Steve muttered, but he knew Robin was right. If Jonathan would have stayed in Hawkins, He wouldn't have tried to pursue her. He and Nancy had their shot, but it was staring them at the face how much they shouldn't be together.

"Why hasn't she said anything?"

"Why haven't you?" Robin asked back. They were staring at Steve's shoes together. "How long have you been wearing Reebok?"

"I don't know, got tired of Nike"

Robin snored and rose to her feet, pulling Steve's hand so he would stand up. "That vest really did change you, big boy."

"Oh, shut up," he tried to elbow her but she skipped to the side, knocking over a display. They looked at it falling down, all the movies they picked that had suggestive titles scattered on the floor.

§

He shouldn't do it on the phone, but he sees no other way. They haven't been able to meet for over two weeks, and the thought of scheduling a break up talk really weakens his knees. It is long overdue, they have successfully avoided each other, avoided talking, touching also became scarce. It was only the knowledge that he is no longer required to date anyone that really made sense to talk of whatever he had with Nancy as a relationship.  And it was easy, really, as Robin noted, to slip back into certainty with her, having shared so much together, having someone to share his feelings with, not needing to establish intimacy with someone new. But he didn't really know what intimacy meant now. A part of his mind was constantly clouded, out of reach, he was unable to share that feeling of being misunderstood to himself. He was lying all the time, but he didn't know how, or about what. He just felt insincere. Hiding his sadness was insincere.

"Nance?"

"Hey Steve, sorry it took me so long to reach the phone, I was-"

"No, it's ok, really… I a… It's ok."

"How was the shift?"

"Uneventful… Robin and I set a display of film innuendoes."

She laughed. "Like what?"

"You know… really stupid stuff. 'The Harder They Come', 'The 400 Blows'"

"The Big Swallow", she added.

"Oh, didn't think of that," He laughed quietly. There was a tense silence suddenly. He didn't ask her how was her day. She didn't say anything further, they just sat in silent, a long line stretching between them, static noise through the speakers.

"Nance, I…" He felt his chest becoming heavy, his throat tightening. "I really don't want to say this."

"I know, Stevie."

He kept quiet for a while.

"You know I love you so much"

"I love you, too," her voice soft, breathing heavy on the phone. He couldn't tell if she was crying.

"But we are not happy together," she said.

"We really aren't, are we…" He laughed shakily, and covered his face with his hand, phone stuck hard against his ear.

"Nance, I don't want to lose you, it was too much last time."

"I'm not going anywhere."

His eyed filled up. "I mean it. I don't care how much we hate each other; I still need you."

"I mean it too. We can be good friends. We are good friends."

They listened to each other breathing through the ether.

"I'm sorry about everything."

"Oh, Steve, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"I was a shitty boyfriend, then and even now."

"We were both shitty now," she answered, eliciting a sharp laugh and a snuffle from Steve.

"I wish I could make you happy, I…"

"Please don't say that."

"But I couldn't make you happy, I couldn't make myself happy, I just…" He couldn't hold back the tears, a nausea came over him, he felt dizzy. Nancy understood him so quickly it was hurtful, since so much of him was still left untouched, buried. "I couldn't do anything to make things right, I was useless against Vecna, I couldn't save Max, and Lucas got beat up so bad, I…" He inhaled sharply, breath becoming short and quick. The cloud that lurked in the back of his mind grew and covered him. "I have no idea how to save any of you, I just waste my time at that stupid store, being useless, absolutely useless, even Robin is getting tired of me, and I have no idea what to do now after graduation, it's like this town is just gonna drown me alive, I'll just be stuck and frozen all the time trying to fix something that cannot be fixed, it's so… it's so…"

"Stevie," Nancy whispered. He cried freely now, not saying anything. He could hear Nancy sniffing on the other side.

"You did so much. You did everything you could. But we're kids, really… this whole thing is so much bigger than us, and you take on ourself so much responsibility, but you can't. you just have to get out, you know? Take some time away from all of this shit and sort yourself out."

"I can't do that, I can't leave."

"You're not leaving, you're just taking a break."

"I can't". He felt blank, dark and blank inside, powerless, useless, void.

They were kids, but they both felt tired, old. She closed her eyes on the other side of the phone, breathing deeply.

"And I think it's ok if you choose to date Jonathan," Steve said.

She cackled. "We just broke up and you're setting me up with someone else? I can't have a minute to myself?"

But Steve didn't laugh. "I mean it, Nancy. Don’t be like me."

"Oh, Stevie, no…" she sighed. "Why would you say that?"

"'Cause it's true, you are so wonderful, and you can't waste yourself like I do, I just can't… I can't let you be alone like me, like I am going to be. It's not gonna work, you know, I can't make someone else happy, and I can let myself ruin someone else again, like… like Max…" he wept again. "Like I ruined you."

"You didn't ruin me!"

"But I did, like Eddie, I… like I ruined Eddie, he didn't have to be a part of any of this, and now he's just… he's just so…"

"Steve, please don't…"

"I can't help him," Steve was choking over his words.

"Eddie is depressed, and honestly, he probably had the most normal reaction than any of us, but it has nothing to do with you."

Steve was crying so hard now it was hurting his chest. All Nancy could hear was his sharp inhales, his cry silent.

"Stevie, you can't fix him. You can't. You can just be there for him, but he needs professional help, not you. You're his friend."

"This isn't fair."

Nancy sniffed. "It isn't. But you can still be there for him. Like you are there for us. The same way you need us. Like I need you."

Steve walked with the long curly line of the phone, and laid on his bed, tears streaming slowly down to his ears, head stuffed from the snot.

"I feel like I lost everything, now that I am losing you."

"You're not losing me…"

"It was a stupid idea doing this over the phone".

"Imagine if we had to do this through light signals."

 Steve finally let out a soft laugh.

"You should talk to Wayne, maybe. Share how you feel. Maybe he knows what to do, how to help Eddie."

"You think?"

"Better than not talking about it."

"Thank you… do you mind if we just stay like that for a while?"

"Yeah, let me just get to the sofa."

Their breathing became soft and loose again.

"Can't believe you dumped me over the phone. Gonna talk shit about you all month."