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His meltdown was long overdue, by City Councils standards, at least. One meltdown every three months (or one major meltdown every six, depending on the person) was healthy, according to them. When asked why, they’d state that it “keeps people’s emotions fresh and mind healthy!”
Carlos thought that was a load of shit.
Because really, a meltdown was not healthy! It was caused by someone bottling up their emotions, only to explode a few months later, and the process would often repeat. Sure, it was in some people’s nature to keep their emotions inside, but that doesn’t mean it should be promoted! “It puts severe stress on the body!” He would rant to Cecil time and time again, his frustrations quite obvious to the radio announcer. Carlos never got the response he wanted, which he expected, but that didn’t change the fact he was angry with what he heard in turn.
Cecil would often smile at him and say something along the lines of how Carlos just “hasn’t had his break down yet” or “needs to experience it first to understand.”
He ended up retaliating against Cecil one night, stating how he had never seen him have a meltdown in all the months they’d been dating, but he said something that didn’t sit well between them.
“I just don’t want to bother you with it.”
Those few words nagged Carlos for the rest of night. They repeated in his mind through the dinner his boyfriend had prepared, they ate at his conscious on his drive home, and they kept him up for hours after he had gone to bed.
Soon the words morphed into thoughts, thoughts that tormented him as if they were nightmares. The whispered venom coated remarks in his ears, remarks that broke his heart in two. He swore this relationship would be different, that he wouldn’t let himself think these things, but he did and it ripped him apart.
“He doesn’t trust you.”
“You’re not as perfect as he hoped.”
“This relationship is going nowhere.”
“He’s just like everyone else, he doesn’t really love you.”
Tears stung his eyes and a swirl of anxiety and nausea settled in his chest, only to be amplified as he grabbed his phone, pulling up his texting thread with Cecil and tapping out a few quick sentences before hitting send.
I know it’s late, but can I come over? I’m having trouble sleeping and I need to talk to you.
The few minutes it took for his reply were agonizing for Carlos, the seconds stretching into hours as time spilled into the void that seemed to be consuming him.
Of course! I’ll see you in a little bit, I love you!
A small wave of relief washed over him at Cecil’s reply, and time seemed to regain its composure, settling back into the pattern of seconds being seconds and hours being hours.
He shot back a quick “I love you too” before rolling out of bed. Blinking away the bleariness, his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim darkness of the room. The moon shone softly from the window, forming a bloody red pool of light onto the floor.
In the back of his mind he registered that it must be either a Harvest moon tonight or a Blood moon. They were never warned which was which when that time of year did roll around.
Stumbling through the thick red light (since it didn’t burn, it was a Harvest moon, thank god,) he found a pair of flannel pajama pants in his dresser as well as some socks. He slipped the pants on over his boxers, the socks following suite while he scanned the floor for his faded red converse.
After tying his shoes and making sure his shirt didn’t have any words or symbols on it considered illegal by the Sheriff’s Secret Police, Carlos quietly made his way out of the apartments. He really, really, did not wanting to wake any of his feisty, more-or-less human neighbors.
Making it out of the apartment building was a minor success in his mind, considering how some nights it was nearly impossible to even take three steps outside his door.
Slipping into his car, his body went into auto-pilot as his mind delved into a state of worry (or well, a state of serious worry. Rarely was Carlos never worried.)
Before long he was parking in front of Cecil’s building, his body still in auto-pilot. Soon he found himself standing in front of his boyfriend’s door, his mind not registering all the movements it took to even make it up there. Raising his fist to give a light knock, his knuckle didn’t even touch the thick metal plated door before Cecil answered.
“Carlos! I’m glad you’re finally here, I’ve been worried ever since you texted me. Come in, we can talking over tea.” He said, his normally energetic voice laced with drowsiness.
“Sorry for worrying you, it’s probably going to sound really dumb when I talk to you about it.” Carlos mumbled, suddenly embarrassed by the entire event. This was dumb. He was dumb. He didn’t need to be here, he was bothering Cecil.
His only reply was a soft sigh, one that translated into a million different things all at once, only further convincing Carlos that this was the worst idea ever.
The radio announcer led his boyfriend over to the couch, where two mugs sat on the coffee table, each giving off a purple steam. In any other situation, he would have grimaced at the sight, but not this time. There were more important matters to grimace at.
They sat on the couch together for a few moments, a heavy silence settling between the two, tearing the air to shreds as it did. It was getting difficult to breathe for Carlos and the thoughts were coming back, the thoughts that he had sworn he ditched at his apartment.
Finally, he broke the thick quietness. “Cecil… I-I’m sorry. This is really dumb, but what you said earlier tonight really got to me.”
For once, Cecil remained quiet, coaxing his boyfriend to continue.
“How you said you didn’t want to bother me with your meltdown… that just… it didn’t sit well with me. It made me think you didn’t trust me enough with your problems, which I know is a dumb thought because I know you trust me, but that didn’t stop it. Soon I began to think other thoughts that I swore I left behind when I moved here but they followed me.” His voice cracked slightly at the end as he tried to regain his composer that was crumbling away. Tears pricked his eyes as he continued.
“The thoughts were things that I had experienced with all my previous relationships. Thoughts that I wasn’t good enough, that they were just using me, but these...” By now there were tears streaming down his cheeks, “These thoughts were different. They were thoughts about how I wasn’t perfect enough for you, that this relationship wasn’t want you wanted. Thoughts that you didn’t really love me. An-“
He was cut off abruptly as Cecil pulled Carlos against him, his forehead resting against the radio announcer’s neck as he wept. This was embarrassing, this was so fucking embarrassing, these insecurities would ruin ever relationship he ever had.
“Carlos, don’t think for one minute that I don’t love you. I have loved you, from the moment I thought you were going to die. Everything before that had just been a crush, but in that moment I knew… I knew I loved you. I knew I would always love you, and you are so perfect with all of your beautiful imperfections. Please, don’t ever doubt that I love you.”
His words were jumbled and choked, but they held more emotion than Carlos had ever heard from him. They settled in his heart, filling him with a sense of relief and happiness he hadn’t felt in years.
The tears still fell but the sobs soon quieted, instead being replaced by a soft murmur of words.
“I love you, Cecil. I love you. I love the darkest parts of you.”
With each “I love you,” Cecil would answer with his own, filling the quiet apartment air with a soft chorus of words that the walls would hear for years to come.
Soon they both trailed off in their whispered chant, tiredness taking over their limbs. Carlo’s back ached from being arched over his boyfriend, and Cecil’s collar was wet from tears, but neither really cared.
Together they shifted into a more comfortable position; Cecil sprawled over Carlo’s chest, their breathing evening out just as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window.
In the morning they had a more sophisticated talk with significantly less tears, working out the few major kinks in their relationship concerning their scheduled breakdowns for the rest of their relationship.
They managed to come to an agreement;
They would support each other, no matter what.
“Sorry for last night.” Carlos mumbled once again, rubbing his eyes. He hadn’t got more than two hours sleep
“Don’t apologize. I’m here for you, okay?” Leaning over the table, Cecil pressed a fleeting kiss to his boyfriend’s lips, sealing the statement with the one action. He pulled away quickly, knowing they needed sleep much more than they needed an uncomfortable (but not unsatisfying) make out session over the kitchen table.
Carlos signed, taking Cecil’s hand and lacing their fingers together.
“I love you.” He said, smiling softly.
“And I love you.”