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There's a looming sense of Déjà Vu as I scramble of bed in a panicked state. I can't breathe. I feel as though I'm suffocating in sickness and drowning in shame. I need to leave. I need to leave now. 

I throw my clothes on as fast as humanly possible then clamber around looking for my keycard which proves difficult through the blur of tears in my eyes. I pace around quietly, desperate to get out fast without waking Vic who's still sleeping, oblivious to my emotional turmoil. I can't even look at him. If I look at him, I'm sure I'm going to throw up. I find my keycard sitting next to my phone so I snatch both of them up and leave not a minute later.

I'm expecting a breath of fresh air the second I exit the dorm but it doesn't come. Air isn't going to fix this. I jog down the stairs and hurry out onto the grounds. I don't know what to do, I don't know where to go so I begin walking around campus, trying to get my mind right.

But I can't believe what I've done. I feel disgusting. I feel dirty. I can already imagine my father's disappointment, his anger, his embarrassment. Why did I have to do that? Why do I have to be like this?

I want to break down but I don't want to attract attention to myself so I hold it together.

I go to the library so I can sit quietly and think but I'm barely able to string a thought together. It's like my mind is panicking.

I know I should call Dr. Levit, or at least go see Sam, but I know what they'd tell and those aren't words I want to hear right now. I know what I did was wrong. I know who I am is wrong. No one can tell me otherwise. They're wrong.

I shouldn't be gay. It's not normal. I'm never going to be happy. I'm never going to have a fulfilling relationship. This attraction is dirty, it's predatory, it's disgusting.

My stomach churns with shame as I remember last night and what Vic and I did. I was so lost in him. I was so stupid.

Tears of regret prick my eyes and I want to cry, I want to scream, but I need to stay quiet. I put my head down on the table and rerun every insult my father threw at me.

Faggot. Homo. Queer.

The ringing of my phone interrupts the traumatic memories and makes me jump. I pull it out of my pocket and see Vic's name on the screen. I immediately ignore the call and then realize he texted me.

Vic: hey where did you go?

I turn my phone off so he can't call me again and put my head back down.

I don't know if I fall asleep or just completely disassociate but when I lift my head from the table, a significant amount of time has passed and I feel hazy. I turn my phone on to check the time and realize I've already missed my morning class and am going to be late for my afternoon class.

I also notice I have three missed calls from Vic and a missed call from Sam, as well as a text.

Sammie: Hey, where are you? I just ran into Vic and he's worried about you.

I swallow dryly and decide I'll deal with that all later. Right now, I just can't.

I take breath and leave the library then head back to my dorm to collect what I need for my class. I don't know why I was expecting Vic not to be there, but I'm surprised when I open the door and find him playing his guitar. His mere presence evokes the return of my nausea.

If my life was a book series, the sequel would definitely be called Return of the Nausea.

I don't say anything as I tear my gaze from him and begin collecting my things for class.

"Kell, hey, I've been trying to call you all day. Is everything alright?" he asks softly, assumingly putting his guitar to the side as I hear it lightly hit the wall. I don't dare look to confirm it.

"Everything's fine." I lie. "I was busy. I had things to do."

He falls silent after that and with that silence comes a tension.

"Okay," he says quietly. "Do you have class now?"

"Yep."

I shove my laptop in my bag trying not get lost in my head or lost in Vic. I just need to focus right now. My only objective is to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible.

"You sure you're okay?" he asks.

There's something about his tone that hurts my heart. I can hear how dispirited he is. I just want to hold him and make him feel okay. But I quickly shove that thought down. I can't think like that.

"Fine." I lie again.

"Okay, well, I wanted to ask you something." he chirps. I can hear the forced joy in his voice. Even his faux happiness exhausts me.

"What?" I mumble, unenthusiastically.

I zip up my bag and throw it over my shoulder, ready to leave.

"I don't know if you heard but there's this dance thing for freshmen next Friday and I was wondering if you wanted to go." Vic says hopefully. There's excitement back in his voice which breaks my heart in a different way.

I don't want to hurt him but the last thing I want to do is dance with a guy in front of a crowd of people. I'm dizzy just thinking about it.

"Dances aren't really my thing." I mumble, heading to the door. "I need to go to class."

I'm about to leave but Vic's quick to stop me.

"Hold on. Parties weren't really my thing, remember? But I still went to that party with you." he says his voice going slightly higher. I can tell he's upset.

The guilt bubbling my in my stomach in mixed with frustration and I can feel myself getting fiery but I can't stop it. I can't control any of my feelings or emotions. I feel like I'm coming undone.

"You didn't have to go. I didn't force you." I snap.

"But I wanted to go. I wanted to go for you. Because you're my boyfriend—" 

Boyfriend feels like a punch to the gut.

"—and I wanted to support you. Sorry, I asked. Just thought I'd get the same support in return." 

I feel like I'm going to throw up any second. I'm stressed and overwhelmed and I just want to leave. This is all too much.

"It's not my fucking job to hold your hand, Vic!" I explode.

I look back at him and every part of me shatters. Until now, I hadn't noticed he isn't wearing his glasses. He has tears brimming his eyes and a few sitting on his cheeks. I've seen him cry before, but I've never seen him look so broken.

I know I'm in a detrimental state of mind right now and I know I'm saying things I'll regret later, so I decide its essential for me to leave as soon as possible.

"I've...I've gotta go to class." I say softly, the lump in my throat forbidding me from speaking any louder.

"By all means," Vic mutters shaking his head with disappointment.

I hurry out of the room and dread the moment I have to go back in there. I do my best to push the whole thing from my mind and just go to class.

But even then I can't concentrate. I'm supposed to be drawing the model in front of me. Ironically and to my absolute dismay, the model is a bowl of fruit. I get it, we're supposed to be focusing on shading techniques and spherical objects are the best way to learn but I'm not going to indulge that cliche.

I say fuck the fruit bowl altogether and start absentmindedly drawing Michelangelo's David. I think about Michelangelo as I draw, wondering what it was like to for him to be gay in a time when it was illegal and the pressure he must have felt being of such a high stature. I wonder if he was ever as scared as I am right now. I wonder if he ever felt the shame I do.

I'm so lucky to exist in the time I do, but even so I still can't navigate my sexuality. 

I think about how Michelangelo's nephew rewrote his poetry, purposely mistranslating the male pronouns to female pronouns, completely erasing his identity. So many scholars and historians still believe with their whole hearts that Michelangelo was never attracted to men.

Maybe I could do the same thing. Rewrite my narrative, erase my identity, marry a woman, have kids, fake it 'til I make it. But then I remember Alex and how I tried so hard to love her in a way that was pure. In the end, I couldn't suppress it. I couldn't deny how blatantly unattractive she was to me, I couldn't deny how I hated kissing her, how I was thinking about her older brother when we had sex, how I couldn't trick myself into thinking she was what I wanted.

She was the second person to be collateral damage to my shame. Sam was the third. Brandon the fourth. Vic is the latest victim. And I was the first. 

This shame hurts everyone around me, and still I hold onto it so tightly. Why can't I let it go?

I don't end up finishing my drawing before class ends. I never finish my drawings these days. When I leave the room, I suddenly realize that I can't go back to my dorm. Being near Vic is just too confronting for me right now and I don't think I'd even be welcome there after the way I spoke to him.

I make a quick decision to go back down to the library. I distract my mind with studying, desperate to not think of anything else. When Sam calls my phone, I ignore it. Then I ignore her concerned texts.

Sammie: Kellin, answer your phone.

Sammie: I just want to know that you're okay.

I just can't think about it yet. Not yet. I need time.

It gets late and I'm tired of studying and I just want to go back to my dorm and sleep, but Vic is the last person I want to see. I have nowhere to go.

I reluctantly pick up my phone and text the one person who's always willing to help me, no matter how many times I fuck him over.

Kellin: I need a place to stay. Can I crash on your floor? Please.

In a very Brandon-like fashion, he reads the message instantly and begins typing.

B♡: You got me on the worst night, Kell. I'm actually at my parents' house right now.

I sigh defeated but he quickly sends another message that raises my hopes.

B♡: Hold on.

I wait a few minutes then soon enough he begins typing again.

B♡: I just let my roommate know that you'll be crashing in my bed. Just go to my dorm and he'll let you in.

I feel insanely relieved and grateful. I immediately pack up my belongings and put my bag on my back then I text Brandon.

Kellin: thank you so much, B. you're a lifesaver as always.

B♡: it's what friends are for :)

That leaves a warm feeling in my chest. Why do I only break the sweetest of hearts?

I head off to Brandon's dorm, not wanting to keep his roommate waiting up for me too much longer. I pass my dorm on the way down the hall and get a sinking feeling but I ignore it and just focus on the task at hand. I knock on Brandon's door when I'm standing outside of it and soon the door swings open.

I immediately feel stupid for being here when I discover who Brandon's roommate is. None other than Conner Miller.

"Oh, hey." I stammer out awkwardly.

He rolls his eyes and steps to the side.

"Yeah, this is weird for me too. Are you just going to stand there?" he grumbles.

I shake my head and quickly sneak past him into the room. He pushes past me then lays down on his bed, picking up his phone. 

"Don't bother me and we won't have a problem." he mumbles, not looking away from his screen.

I just nod and go over to Brandon's bed. I feel uncomfortable and out of place but I know I'd feel worse going back to my dorm. I decide there's nothing for me to do but sleep so I kick off my shoes and lay down on top of Brandon's covers. I feel like getting under them would just be weird. He is my ex-boyfriend after all, as much as I hate to admit it.

I close my eyes and beg my mind to shut off but I guess it doesn't work like that because I'm left awake. I'm so focused on trying to trick my mind into going to sleep that I nearly jump out of my skin when Conner speaks.

"You dated Brandon, right?" he asks.

My stomach tightens. That must mean Brandon has at least mentioned me. I can't imagine he's had much good to say about me.

"Yeah," I answer quietly.

"Was he big a drinker back then?" Conner asks, making me frown.

"Not really. He never drank around me. Does he drink a lot?" I ask worried.

"Most days." Conner says.

He pauses for a minute like he's in thought.

"He annoys the shit out of me. Doesn't shut up when he's drunk." Conner mutters.

"He doesn't shut up when he's sober." I snort which makes Conner laugh. It's weird to hear Conner laugh. I don't even think I've seen him smile before.

"I don't know how you dated him." Conner sighs softly.

"He's a really good person. He has the biggest heart." I say fondly.

"Why did you break up then?" Conner asks sounding confused.

For a guy that I assumed was homophobic, he seems super casual about this conversation. I guess his brother has dated guys. But then why would he even be homophobic?

"I guess, he was just too good for me." I admit softly.

Conner's quiet after that again then I hear him get out of bed. He switches off the light then gets back into bed. I guess that conversation is over.

I don't find it any easier to sleep after that because now my mind is racing with worry about Brandon. I have a horrible feeling that somehow his drinking is linked to what I did. I hope it's not. And I hope he's not over-doing it. He's not even old enough to legally buy alcohol. I guess that's what happens when you have rich parents who don't give a shit.

I wonder why he's seeing them tonight. I kind of miss being a part of his life and knowing what was going on. He used to talk to me for hours and now we can hardly say more than a few words to each other. Romantic relationship aside, he was a great friend and I miss that.

Maybe Dr. Levit is right. Maybe I should just pluck up the courage and tell him what happened between us. It might get us talking again. But not yet. I've got bigger things to worry about. Like how I'm going to face my boyfriend when I can't even look at him without feeling nauseous. 

I feel stupid for getting physical with Vic. I should have known this was going to happen. I just thought I was doing so well. Guess I can kiss all that progress goodbye.

When will I stop ruining my own life?

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