South Park © Matt & Trey.
Sorry this took long again I'm pretty distracted lately haha. I'm gonna try and work on some longer fics soon. Plus, I've still got a ton of 1shots I need to edit/post. Stay tuned~
Graduation came and then passed and so have the years after that, but I remember that Craig was so high during ceremony I don't think he even realized what was going on. The kid standing behind him had to give him a shove when they called his name. At least it was only weed that time. I like to think he won't ever touch the hard stuff again. He says he probably won't.
When I asked about the ceremony, Craig told me he felt too anxious and needed something to dull him out of it. I guess I can understand that. I felt nervous walking across the stage, too. I got an incredibly loud, roaring applause and it just made me feel embarrassed because I knew that everyone was thinking about how much I've struggled. They probably think it's surprising that I even managed to graduate. Ha…
Kyle is at university now. It makes me sad that I don't get to see him as much, but we still talk daily and he comes back home most weekends. He's only in Denver, after all and he'll be graduating this year. Right now, he's writing his final exams. Soon enough, he'll be back in South Park waiting for the results. I know he'll do perfectly. He always does.
Somewhere amidst all the high school shit, I found my calling. I realized that I just want to help people. So, I got a job as volunteer coordinator at the local youth center. It's pretty ideal and I get to talk to a lot of kids who are in pain. I try to show them that there's always light at the end of the tunnel, even if there are times when find it hard to believe myself. At the end of the day, it's something I find comfort in.
I'm twenty-one now. Some days are still hard, but I know I'm not alone. Everyone is still struggling. I'm still struggling. Kyle is still struggling. Kenny is still struggling. Craig is still struggling. Tweek is still struggling, too. But I guess it's okay as long as we make it out in the end… and it's far from the end. I've been trying to spend more time with friends and less time alone at home. I think more social activity does me good, though I do get quite a lot when I'm working. It forces me out when I just feel like sulking by myself.
I still live at home. Kenny doesn't. He moved out and got an apartment with Craig the summer after we graduated. He doesn't hook anymore. He got beat up a few months ago by one of his clients. I guess things got out of control and, for the first time, he got scared. Craig lost it in the hospital and pleaded with Kenny, who finally agreed to try a different career option. Things can get dangerous. It's not fair, but it's true. This shit happens all the time and until things are safer for people in that line of work, it's probably best that he tries something new. He also quit his day job since his boss was a creep. Now he works in a sex shop, which he says isn't as thrilling as some people might think it is, but he gets a discount which he takes full advantage of.
Craig, on the other hand, still works at the shelter. It suits him. I can't really picture him working anywhere else.
They're engaged, crazy enough. Kenny asked Craig to marry him in the hospital. He said it was something he had been thinking about for a long time. Craig got mad and told him to ask again when they weren't in the ER. So, he did. He topped it all off with a fancy candlelit dinner because he says Craig is secretly a romantic. So, when he popped the question Craig said yes.
Craig says he likes to think of himself as recovered, but then there are times when the thoughts make their way back and the word makes more sense in a present tense. Recovering. I understand that, really, I do.
I think it's funny that someone I once didn't think much of quickly became one of my best friends. He always jokes around and says it's because I was so nosy in high school and I guess it's true. He says he's happy now and that makes me happy, too.
Time flies.
Summer is once again approaching.
I've been attending A.A. meetings. It usually helps me stay on track with my sobriety, but last month I got arrested for driving under the influence. Kyle paid bail and the ride was quiet until he started crying halfway. He said he felt like I was slipping and, god, it felt like I was. I don't even know what triggered me. Sometimes shit just happens and a person can get overwhelmed.
I had one year of sobriety. I even had a stupid coin as a reminder… but after my relapse, I had to put it away and start over again. I felt like such a fucking failure, but 24 hours turned into a week which turned into a month. You just need to keep moving and try not to let the shit drag you down for too long. Easier said than done, but hey.
Cartman had a heart attack a year ago. I didn't even know young people could get heart attacks, but it happened. I like to think that what goes around comes around and that this was Cartman finally getting what he deserved. He survived. Initially I had hoped that it would lead to him trying to become a better person so he wouldn't continue to fuck with the lives of others… but it didn't and just last month he got arrested for money laundering. I guess what goes around really does come around because that put him away.
Kyle said he wanted to visit him in prison and get some sort of closure. They haven't spoken since high school and it boggles my mind why Kyle would want to go see Cartman, but I tried not to dissuade him. Instead, I agreed to go with him. That was last week and I don't think Kyle got any of the answers he wanted – though I have no idea what he expected to get out of the visit.
I remember walking into the visiting room with him.
"I could never do what you're about to do," I had told him, thinking about all the guys who tortured me that night when I was sixteen.
Kyle laughed, sounding somewhat hollow. "Yeah…"
So, we stepped inside and saw Cartman in that dreary looking jumpsuit. I couldn't help but think he deserved it. When Kyle locked eyes with Cartman, I swear I felt every single one of his emotions. Nonetheless, he stayed calm and sat down.
"What did I do to make you hate me so much?" he asked, sounding like he needed to know the answer.
Cartman sat back in his chair, arms crossed as he stared across the table. He looked angry and he didn't seem to be in a talking mood.
"Come on…" Kyle urged somewhat pleadingly. "I came all the way here…"
Cartman let out a breath, sounding inconvenienced. "What if I don't have a reason?" he started. "What if I just hate you… because I'm that kind of guy? Then again, what if I told you I never hated you and it was just my idea of fun?"
Kyle was frowning at that point.
"Why are you here, Kahl?" Cartman had asked. "Do you expect an apology? What the hell do you want out of this little visit?"
"To understand," Kyle responded.
"I don't hate you, Kahl," Cartman had said. "I never hated you. I don't hate you or your religion or your stupid liberal beliefs. I never actually gave a rat's ass about any of that shit. At a young age, I realized that we were two completely different people who would never get along and I just enjoyed bothering you. I liked when you reacted. It gave me a twisted sense of pleasure to have control over you. So, I took it as far as I could, as far as you'd let me. It was a game and you were the toy."
"I see," Kyle said, sounding like he was dead on the inside. "So, that's how it is…"
Cartman is pure evil. He feels no empathy. He's selfish. He acts purely on his own desires and emotions. He only confirmed what everyone had already known – even Kyle.
We didn't linger after that. We left and I could tell Kyle was upset. Maybe he wanted to believe there was a better reason for it all, but there wasn't. So, I spent the night in his dorm room, making sure he was all right. The morning after, I took a bus back to South Park.
Me and Kyle aren't particularly stable people, but our relationship somehow manages to remain stable. We even managed to have sex a year after we started dating. It was nice. Kyle was nice. It didn't hurt. We don't do it often, though. Instead, we do other stuff. Sometimes we used a double-ended toy. At first I was pretty shy about using a toy, but it ended up being fun. I liked seeing Kyle all hot and bothered and I know he likes seeing me that way, too.
Sex was kind of a goal for me, something I wanted but was damn afraid of... but I'm not scared anymore. Not with Kyle.
Time can heal. Support can help. The right treatment can do wonders. I often got impatient and frustrated with myself and my slow progress, but looking back on it I think I did all right - especially for someone in my situation. I just keep having to remind myself that relapse is a normal part of recovery. I just need to strive to do better.
I think me and Kyle are good together. We understand each other. He actually talks to me these days. I think he learned that communication is necessary if you want any kind of relationship to work out. So, when he's sad, he tells me. When he wants to cry, he doesn't keep it in. He lets it out. When he wants to hurt himself, he comes to me.
Kyle will be home soon and this time he'll be home for good. He has already applied for local jobs and gone through an interview process. He'll be working for a local business, doing exactly what he wants – statistical analysis for a marketing company. I'm happy for him. He achieved his goal.
Kyle only goes to therapy once a month now. Dr. Hightower said that he showed a 'tremendous' improvement with the right treatment. Knowing that made me feel really fucking happy. It made me feel like it's actually possible for people to get better when they're at their lowest. It was... inspirational.
When I think about myself, I wonder if I'll always need to go to therapy. I think it'd be nice if I could somehow recover, but I still don't know how. I still don't feel like I can and everyone insists that it's okay.
I think we've both come to terms with all the shit we've been through. Now there is room for acceptance and acceptance always makes things easier.
It was a long, hard road… and it isn't over yet.
The following weekend, Kyle returns. I haven't seen him in a few weeks since his exams were taking up most of his time. As soon as I hear his car pull into the driveway, I jump up from the sofa. After swinging open the door, I see him walking up the stairs and we connect. I wrap my arms around him and hold him close for many long minutes, wanting to soak up the familiarity that is him.
When we finally break apart, we're smiling.
"God, I fucking missed you," he says with a breathless laugh.
"I missed you, too," I echo, inviting him in.
He closes the door behind himself, stepping out of his sneakers. We move into the kitchen and I make tea as he talks about how his exams went.
"You'll do well," I say confidently as I sit across from him at the table, placing a cup in front of him and one in front of myself. "You always do."
He nods his thanks. "When I'm settled in I want to get an apartment," he says. "You should move in with me."
I smile faintly at that. "The possibility of moving out and starting a life away from my family home causes me a lot of anxiety," I admit
"That's okay," Kyle tells me. "Baby steps. We don't have to rush into anything, but you should definitely sleep over the first night I move in."
"Deal," I say. "What kind of place do you want?"
"Hm… something small, modest, homey," he muses. "It's all I really need."
"Sounds nice," I comment. "I hope I can be a part of it, but I feel like there is still so much anxiety that's keeping me down."
"You're doing well," Kyle promises.
"Yeah," I say softly. "We both are."
I'm making progress. Yeah, it's been slow, but it's progress nonetheless and I can't deny that I've made so much. I no longer wish I died. The nightmares are few and far between. I'm on the road to self-acceptance.
And you know what?
Now I know it'll be okay.
I'm alive, after all… and I no longer regret that fact. I'm proud to say I've come this far.
Fin.