I Never Knew
TW- mention of self-harm.
He was too busy chugging a glassful of alcohol to notice what he had done. In one single, tiny, measly second everything was discovered. After weeks of pretending, false smiles, strange antics, happy dances, it was revealed. One movement showed them everything.
Ethan's phone beeped with a text from Cal, reminding him to pay the rent. He reached out across the table to get the phone. It was a small action, one which he did every day. But it uncovered his secret that he'd worked so hard to hide. His shirt sleeve was a bit too short, revealing his bony wrist.
On his wrist was a cut, staring everyone right in the face. They glanced down for a minute, spotted the so obviously self-inflicted scar and everything went silent. The men exchanged looks, worried and scared for their friend.
He'd been fine. He was too busy buying hats, losing his glasses and learning salsa dancing to be depressed. He was too happy to do that, they thought. They saw Ethan's smiling and contented face; a mask. A mask he wore, without fail every day, just to please everyone. He'd been so strong. If you had to guess that anyone in the ED had been depressed, you wouldn't have suspected Ethan. But they didn't know.
Nobody knew about the lonely nights. The nights that never seemed to end. He'd have Cal in the same flat, the next room, but he'd feel more alone than ever. They didn't have a clue about the nights he'd cried himself to sleep, drowning the sobs with his pillow. His only release was in the form of a tiny blade. They didn't understand why, and they never would. Nobody understood him. The feelings deep inside, so profound and scarring that they hurt to even imagine. And he felt them every day, with no break from feeling in pain. And he did it all with a smile and a laugh.
How could he do that? Looking back at the man sitting by them, drinking and texting his brother, you would never have guessed it. But, of course. There is always a but. When you look deeper at him you may notice what is wrong.
The way he secretly screws up his face when he drinks because he hates the taste. The way he laughs and looks away from you to brush away the tears. The way he wears the same hoodie every day on his break, to cover up. The way it is so clearly an act, because he hurts, so much. The way everything is on a downward spiral. The way he smiles so large that you can smile with him. To cover up the tears gathering in his eyes, every day of every moment. It's tiring to think about but to live it is unnatural. He never lets it show because he believes nobody cares. He was wrong. Everyone cares. They shared looks, and all thought the same thing.
"I never knew."