Kyle's POV:
It's been two months. Two fucking months and Kenny hasn't said a word to me. I've seen him around on the streets and I've said hi to him but he didn't even react. As If I wasn't there. He never answers my texts either. What the fuck. He must really not want to be around me. I hate it. I know I hurt him a lot and that I'm worthless, but Kenny said that he didn't think it was my fault. I wonder what's going through his head... I thought Kenny was the one who wasn't supposed to leave. I thought Kenny would stay here close to me. Kenny was the one who wouldn't go anywhere. I was wrong. Kenny left.
I love him. I need to tell him but I can't. He just stares straight ahead and ignores me every single time I say anything. It makes me feel like I'm dying on the inside. As if I'm suffocating. I thought I wanted to stay away from Kenny, as to not hurt him, but I can't. I just can't. I miss him too much. It hurts like hell, standing here and just watching him destroy himself, all because of me.
After I got to know what was going on I started to notice things, and realized how it all fit together. Why Kenny sometimes smelled a little strange, why he sometimes limped a little or why he sometimes suddenly had more money to spend. Kenny has been doing this all along and I never noticed. It should've been painfully obvious.
Somehow I would've probably felt better if Kenny just fucked around, not for the money. If he was sleeping around just cause he wanted to then I would be alright, I'd be okay with it. But this... No. Kenny doesn't want this. Kenny hates himself cause he's doing this. What Kenny actually wants is stability, and I am that to him. I wonder if that's why he fell in love with me in the first place, cause I was stable and convenient back then. I don't know.
I know why I fell in love with Kenny though. Because Kenny cared for me and helped me and made me feel important. Without him there's this empty hole in my heart. It's kind of the same with Stan. It's empty without him. But not exactly in the same way.
I've seen Stan around since that night in the rain, when so much went wrong. He looks a lot better now. He seems happy even. He's pulled himself back together and he looks like the Stan I know again. I'm glad. At least I didn't ruin Stan's life completely. Stan's old flame, Wendy Testaburger is back in town and that's probably why he's alright. They hang out together a lot and Stan seems so at ease with her. He must still really like her, like he did when we were kids. I'm so glad. I guess you could say that Stan and I are actually friends now. We've hung out a bit since that night, mainly cause I started asking him to, after everything got so lonely without Kenny. Stan doesn't know about what happened between me and Kenny and Stan doesn't ask. He isn't pushing it.
I thought is was best to stay away after the breakup at first, but turns out it wasn't necessary. Neither of us seem to dwell in the past and think about the pain of losing each other anymore. Cause in fact we haven't lost each other, the way we are have just changed. Stan is still there, just not as my lover. He's my super best friend.
Personally I think that I'm sinking. It's like quicksand and I can feel myself getting dragged deeper and deeper down. Further and further away from Kenny.
Just when he came back, he disappeared. He just appeared in my life again and made me happier and stronger, but he just left and it all has made my head spin and my heart ache so much. I can't blame him though. For wanting to stay away. But I wish he would just talk to me again, just once. So I can tell him, just how I feel. Just so I can stop sinking, into this quicksand that is my shitty life.
I feel so angry. I'm so mad that it feels like my blood is boiling, all the time. My temper has gotten horrible lately. It's like when Cartman was mocking me... That's what it feels like all the time. I just wanna yell. At Kenny. So much. I wanna yell at him about how stupid he's being, about how I hate being without him and about how he's just sinking too. About how he is ruining himself. Kenny is being really self destructive nowadays... Kenny is sinking, just like me. It's so easy to tell.
Kenny limps a lot more often now, almost all the time. Kenny always has bags under his eyes. He has gotten even skinnier, somehow. Kenny's eyes look dead. Kenny McCormick's vibrant, ocean blue eyes look dead. Can you believe it?
Kenny is practically killing himself like this. It hurts so much to think about it. The Kenny I know isn't there anymore. He's hurting too much and he can't bear with it. He built walls around himself and pushed everything away. I'm sure that he feels about as empty on the inside as he looks on the outside. I'm pathetic and can't do shit to help him, yet I've still cried myself to sleep so many nights just thinking about it. I'm pathetic and disgusting and such a loser.
Kenny is the only one. The only one I want. I really believe that he is the one. Yet we are both so messed up and we are sinking. I desperately reach out but Kenny pulls away. I know that he hates what he's doing, and I know that he's ashamed but I don't dislike him or resent him at all for what he's doing. All I want is to save him. I want to save Kenny. My beautiful Kenny, who isn't really mine. The lonely, fucked up, hurting mess that has become Kenny. I want to save him. I forgive him. For everything. For all the wrong choices he has made and all the bad things he has done. I know he'd feel the same way about me if I were to do something like that. If he would just come back. If Kenny would just be Kenny again then he would.
Those dead eyes need to come back to life. There's no way that I can ever forgive myself if they don't. I'll get Kenny back. No matter what. I just need to find a way, a way for him to open up again.
I miss it. The simple comfort of laying there together on my bed and just talking. Even though Kenny has never been one for talking about what he really feels, this Kenny has gone much more to the extreme.
Kenny's POV:
Kyle just walks past me and says hi and it feels like someone rips my heart out, chops it into tiny pieces and then stomps on it aggressively. I pretend that he doesn't exist but that is just eating me alive. He knows. Just how much I'm sinking and he knows that I feel like there is no point to keep going. He hurts because of that too. I pretend not to see it. Cause if I let my guard down then I'll be back there again, right next to him, and that'll only mess up the both of us even more. I can't go back. I don't want his fucking pity. Stop looking at me like I need so much of your god damn help. It's none of your business Kyle so just stop. Stop.
Kyle doesn't realize that he doesn't need me. That's the real problem here. If he could just get that into his head then everything would be fine. I would be miserable but that doesn't matter at all cause it's just me. I feel fucking nothing except disgust towards myself and I don't care anymore. I really don't care. All I care about is Kyle and staying the fuck away from him. Cause there's no point. There's no point in anything.
Those people that I usually have sex with for money... I let them do it for free now. I don't care. I really don't care. Do what the hell you want with me. It's not like it makes any difference. There's no chance in hell that I could ever be fixed so why not mess me up some more really. If you use me for your own entertainment that's great, at least I did something for someone.
I wander the streets a lot now. Most days I just spend wandering around, lost in thoughts, and whenever someone in a car pulls up and says my name I just do it and don't say anything. I don't say anything to anyone. I don't talk much at all anymore. Just when I absolutely have to. Otherwise my voice just won't come out.
I'm such a mess. Such a failure. Everything about me is wrong and that's it. I've learned to accept that I'm a nobody and that I'm nothing more than a little fucktoy for people. No one cares about me at all, except for maybe Kyle. But he only cares cause he thinks it's his fault. He feels guilty. What a moron. I brought this upon myself a long time ago. Yet I love him. I love him with every fiber in my body and I can't fucking stand it. I'm so gross and so wrong, yet I long for someone so pure and so right. There's no way. No way in hell, that he could be mine. The only thing I long for, the one person, is the only person I can't have, and also the only person I won't ever allow myself to have.
One morning when I feel even more awful than usual I wake up to hear a knock on the front door. I don't think I've felt this shit since right after I ran away from Kyle, that night in the rain. I get out of bed, and walk out into the hallway, not caring about the fact that I'm only wearing an old pair of boxers and an ugly t shirt that is so washed out that it almost falls apart. I haven't showered for like 5 days and I probably smell horrible, but who gives a shit? I'm a complete train wreck and I think that there's no fucking way that I'll be able to face anyone who might decide to appear at my house at 7.36 on a fucking Saturday morning. I consider what options I have, and who the fuck this person could be.
But when I open the old, wooden front door, and sunlight hits my filthy, disgusting face, there stands a person I totally didn't expect. In front of me is my old childhood friend Craig Tucker, with a dumb grin plastered on his face and his middle finger raised at me. This is not at all what I thought my morning would be like. God damn it. I'm not at all in the mood to talk to this moron, or anyone else really.
