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Hatred is an interesting concept. You can hate feelings, objects, places, situations, strangers, actions, friends, and family. But maybe the worst of them all is hating yourself. Dan had experienced most of these versions in his very short and exhausting life. He hated the feeling of crumpled paper in his hands, because it reminded him of all the paper balls that got thrown at him in school. He hated the little card that told him he was a law student. He hated his childhood home. He hated going to university and having to interact with other students. He hated the people on the train on his way back home for Christmas. He hated studying. He hated the people who he used to call his friends, but who had never had his back. And he hated his parents for not being there for him, for not realizing he was drowning. And then there was the constant self-hatred. He was wrong for who he loved, wrong for who he was. He wasn’t good enough. Would never be good enough. Not for his parents, not for the world. And definitely not for Phil. Never for Phil. Phil, who was like the sun blinding Dan whenever they spent time together. Phil made him hate everything a little less. Made him think that maybe the world wasn’t as terrible as it always seemed. But every time he was with Phil, he doubted himself more. He was destroying the best thing that ever existed. Either Dan would hurt Phil or Phil would be the death of him. Was that how Icarus felt, flying too close to the sun? And how could someone who was so perfect love someone who was so broken, without shattering into million pieces? Dan didn’t deserve Phil and Phil didn’t deserve a partner, who made his life miserable. Who dimmed the light of the sun.
But here’s the thing: Sometimes you need a spark to guide you out of the dark. The light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe it didn’t matter that Dan was thinking about dropping out of university. Maybe Phil was old enough to decide for himself what he could handle. And maybe time would heal everything. If he really was Icarus, the sun would melt the wax on his wings. It would drip into the cracks in his mind and over time it would harden again and seal those wounds forever. And the sun would be there at his side, guiding him to safety.