Post by JOEL ABRAMS on Aug 22, 2022 4:28:10 GMT -5
It wasn’t surprising when Cian explained that books had always been his safe space, and his work was merely an extension of that. It had been obvious for as long as Joel had known him, although ‘safe space’ wasn’t the term he’d use. He wasn’t exactly sure how to better describe it. Barricade, maybe. A barrier that Cian hid himself behind because it offered him a reasonable excuse for not interacting with others outside necessity. Or maybe shield fit better. His protective armour behind which he could safeguard himself from whatever evils he saw in the world. For some reason that Joel never really understood, Cian found it easier to bury himself in his studies, a mostly solitary activity, rather than interact with the world around him. He’d always found it a tragedy. He’d been so sure back then that people would love Cian if he just gave them the opportunity to see past his walls. After all, he had. He found himself wondering, as he listened, what his safe space was, and didn’t take him long to determine that it was his friends. If he really thought about it, it always had been, which he supposed was to be expected. Forging and maintaining friendships had been something Joel had always taken for granted. Something that felt as natural and easy to him as breathing. As a kid, he’d assumed he’d always be surrounded by friends – people who liked him, liked being around him, and wanted the best for him. It had been a hard lesson to learn that he was wrong. There had been times in Joel’s life – difficult, soul-crushing times – when he’d had people all around him and not one of them had his best interests at heart. They hadn’t cared if he suffered or succeeded. Most hadn’t cared if he’d lived or died. They’d proven that to him over the years. It made Joel all the more grateful for those he had around him now – true friends who were at his side through thick and thin, hell and high water. It made sense that when he didn’t feel quite himself, when he needed a kind word or some tough love, when he needed to not feel so alone, he’d seek out those who’d shown him over and over that they had his back. That he could breathe with them. That he could show them all his many colours, not just the ones deemed pretty enough to see, and they’d welcome him and accept him. He knew how lucky he was to have such a thing, just as he knew he’d never again take for granted their consistence and care. He found it a little sad that Cian didn’t seem to have that. All he had was books and work – things that couldn’t love him back. But he supposed books was better than nothing. A soft smile when Cian told him that he’d take Joel’s comments on board. It was a lie, and he was fairly sure they both knew it, but this was one of those social contracts where they both silently agreed to treat it as if it were the truth. A polite way of saying no without the awkwardness of actually saying no. Joel nodded and let it go. Another silence fell, another moment that felt like a natural end to the conversation, and Joel found himself looking to the counter where his coffee sat going cold. His lips parted as he readied to tell Cian he should get back to work and let him get back to his journal, but Cian surprised him again by asking another question. Joel’s brows twitched gently upwards. “Uh, depends what you mean by time off, I suppose,” he replied, a small smile forming. “If I’m not at work, most of my time is spent with Charlie. School runs, after-school activities, dinner and homework, the hell that is bedtime.” His smile brightened to show it wasn’t so hellish really, and even if it were Joel still wouldn’t trade it for the world. “I try to get to the gym a couple times a week,” he added, but try was definitely doing a lot of heavy lifting in that statement. He hadn’t been in nearly a fortnight. Sleep seemed far more important. “I can usually swing two or three nights out a month, but I see my mates whenever I can. Just easier to have people over than try to arrange a night out when everyone has such varied schedules. Plus, the hangovers aren’t nearly as bad and I’m totally okay with that,” he smiled. |