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Smitty stares himself down in the mirror, his eyes drooping, a sadness he hadn't felt in a long time hitting him like a tsunami. The bags under his eyes seemed more prominent, a sure sign of his failures when even his latest of nights trying to entertain, to be something to people, when even that begins to show it's cracks. Those late nights, staying up at 4 AM game hunting and schedule planning wearing him down thin, his messy hair showing he barely had the energy to brush his hair out even a little bit. The little to no effort he had barely been putting in recently weighed down on him, his energy wearing thinner and thinner each day.
The others soon caught onto it, the way some of his speech was slurred some days and other days he seemed out of it completely. The growing tiredness in his voice sparked question after question, none of which he was very happy to talk about. He always preferred keeping everything to himself, but that security of his privacy from even his friends began to overwhelm him, his breathing becoming more and more heavy when he felt that feeling of holding too much in, but needing to keep it sealed away for the sake of all his friends.
The last straw was when all the guys were over for a week in Texas, renting out an air bnb for a place to stay. Smitty was noticeably worse than ever before, his tired eyes and lack of... well, any emotion was cause for concern among everyone. Some chose to not intervene while others chimed in with well meaning questions that felt more like interrogations in Smitty's mind, every other question landing a harder blow in Smitty's chest as they all kept bringing more realizations to his mind about just how much he had truly let himself go. The only person who ever asked a question that didn't feel like a burden to answer was John. John somehow always made everything feel natural for Smitty, his growing concern feeling more like reassurance that he's truly seen rather than another heavy load of guilt for letting himself get to this point. His usual colder demeanor was completely gone when John was genuinely concerned for Smitty's health. It felt nice talking peacefully without feeling weighed down by poor decisions and overwhelming stress.
Smitty kept drinking as the night went on, his drowsiness growing after every drink, that familiar sick feeling growing more and more after every shot taken. It was disgusting, but it felt like something else. Anything else felt better than the headache that was his current state, even if it would bring the most killer hangover in the morning.
Smitty retreated to one of the other rooms, cup full of straight liquor, the hardest they had bought, ready to drink his sorrows away, ready to watch his vision fade to black right then and there. The bitter feeling of the alcohol hitting his throat like a wild new sensation. He was halfway done with the cup when someone knocked at the door, that familiar voice Smitty had loved for so long, John.
"Smitty, can I come in for a bit?"
John's voice was muffled through the door, his voice slightly slurred thanks to the alcohol. Smitty balanced himself onto his feet and carefully walked to the door to open it. John stood with a cold bottle of water in one hand and an almost empty cup of rum and coke in the other. He quickly stepped inside the room before closing the door behind him. Smitty slumped back into his spot on the small couch in the room, if it was even that. It was more or less just a mattress on top of a box frame with soft pillows that lined the wall, acting as the back cushions for the couch. It was pleasant, but Smitty couldn't care anymore. He was so damn close to drinking himself to death, but he couldn't do it with John around. It would be selfish, cruel, disturbing, to have someone he loves watch as he tries to kill himself.
John sat next to Smitty on the mattress, clutching the bottle of water like it was a lifeline while the near empty cup sat in a loose grip before he put it off to the side on the ground.
"You look like you needed some water. I thought I'd bring you some."
The small gesture was everything Smitty needed in that little moment as he grabbed the bottle that John handed to him, quickly unscrewing the cap and taking a big drink. The cold water felt more refreshing than anything else, the cool feeling going down his throat leaving him feeling like he was in paradise. John held onto Smitty's shoulder, afraid that he might tip over and either spill the water or hurt himself. John's heart ached seeing Smitty like this. He could tell there was something deeper going on, but he knew better than to approach Smitty's problems face first. Smitty was never a confrontational guy and asking more and more questions about what's wrong with him would just leave him feeling worse, so John was careful with his wording.
Smitty soon relaxed into John's side, John's hand slowly rubbing circles into his back, still slightly colder than normal from death gripping the bottle of water earlier. Smitty's eyes began welling up with tears as the gentle feeling of John's touch on his back was soothing and comforting. His brain thinking about how stupid he must look for crying over the simplest gestures of kindness, but truth be told, it was everything he needed, a calm presence that he could trust, reassuring him through body language that everything would be okay. As the minutes passed by, Smitty finally worked himself up enough to ask one simple question.
"John, can I tell you about something?"
That was all the confirmation John needed to know that Smitty was ready to let everything out.
"Of course you can, I promise I'll listen."
A weight felt like it had been lifted off of Smitty's shoulders, finally feeling free to talk without judgement. John felt the same in that he felt more calmer than before knowing Smitty was finally able to get everything off of his shoulders. John was more anxious that Smitty would keep himself reserved and choose to fight this battle alone and it hurt him more than he'd ever like to admit.
"So, I'm sure you could tell I'm not doing my greatest and that's for... reasons."
John simply nodded and moved his hand to hold Smitty's, feeling the tight hold Smitty instantly had on his hand.
"There's a lot that I'm going through, but it's hard to explain. I'm sorry if it comes out sounding weird."
"That's completely fine, Smit. As long as you feel safe talking about it, I could care less if you stumble over your words."
John's other hand swiftly went up to brush through Smitty's hair before cupping his cheek gently.
"I'm here to listen, not to judge."
Smitty let out a shaky breath before continuing.
"I don't know what's been coming over me, but it's like I lost everything I enjoyed. Nothing feels the same anymore, everything I do feels like a chore. I feel like a living dead man."
John simply began to lightly rub his thumb on Smitty's hand, assuring him that he's still listening.
"I've lost motivation to do basically anything, even taking care of myself has become a hassle. I feel more like dead weight than anything."
"I see. Maybe try taking things a bit slower. It might help."
"Maybe. It's not just my motivation, it's my mental health. I wanted to try just so I could stop feeling. I almost did it. I'm so sorry."
That was the bit John dreaded the most. Hearing it first hand that Smitty actually attempted to end himself hit John harder than expected, but he kept his compuse the best he could. He wanted nothing more than to scoop Smitty up into a hug to tell him it's alright, but he kept calm and continued to listen.
"I didn't want to, but something kept telling me to keep drinking. I'm so sorry John... I didn't want... I didn't mean to... I'm just-"
"Smitty, it's not your fault. It was never your fault for feeling this way, but I beg you to come to me if you feel this way again. You're the most important person in my life and losing you would mean losing everything. There's so many things I want to do with you and want to see you achieve. You are so much more than what you think you are and I promise, you can get through this. I'm here for you, Smit. Never forget that."
Tears began forming in John's eyes as his desperation and anxiety bubbled up to the surface. This was a side of John that Smitty never really saw, and if he did, John would change up quicker than Smitty could react. John held Smitty's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together as Smitty also began breaking down into tears. Smitty's words coming to a halt as they both cried in each other's arms.
As they began to slow down with the crying, John gently caressed Smitty's hair and rubbed his back while Smitty simply clung to John like he was everything and more. John was overcome with loads of emotions, but mainly fear and guilt at the thought that had he not done anything, Smitty could be on the floor passed out or even dead. Smitty was filled with more sorrow, but also a shimmer of hope now knowing that John wouldn't leave him at his worst.
They both calmed down and as John held Smitty's face in his hands, he went in and kissed him softly on the lips, leaving Smitty slightly flustered, but feeling okay. They sat in each other's presence for a long time, listening to the sound of drunk people slowly dying down as everyone went to sleep. As they both laid down on the mattress with their arms still wrapped around each other, John held Smitty's head to his chest as Smitty leaned into John's body. Smitty's mental health wasn't gonna be instantly repaired with one conversation, but now he knows he doesn't have to go through it completely alone.
And maybe that was all he needed, a soft presence to let him know that he's gonna be okay in the end.