Will Grayson, Will Grayson(50)
Author: John Green

me: it puzzles me how someone like you could drive all this way to be with someone like me.

tiny: not that again!

me: excuse me?

tiny: we’re always having this conversation. but if you keep focusing on why you have it so bad, you’ll never realize how you could have it so good.

me: easy for you to say!

tiny: what do you mean?

me: pretty much exactly that. i’ll break it down for you. easy – with no difficulty whatsoever. for you – the opposite of ‘for me.’ to say – to vocalize, sometimes ad nauseam. you have it so good that you don’t realize that when you have it bad, it’s not a choice you’re making.

tiny: i know that. i wasn’t saying . . .

me: yes?

tiny: i do understand.

me: you DON’T understand. because you have it so easy.

now i’ve riled him up. he steps out of the swing and stands right in front of me. there’s a vein in his neck that’s actually pulsing. he can’t look angry without also looking sad.

tiny: STOP TELLING ME I HAVE IT SO EASY! do you have any idea what you’re talking about? because i’m a person, too. and i have problems, too. and even though they might not be your problems, they’re still problems.

me: like what?

tiny: you may not have noticed, but i’m not what you’d call conventionally beautiful. in fact, you might say that i’m the opposite of that. say, you know – to vocalize, sometimes ad nauseam? do you think that there’s any minute in any day when i’m not aware of how big i am? do you think there’s a single minute that goes by when i’m not thinking about how other people see me? even though i have no control whatsoever over that? don’t get me wrong – i love my body. but i’m not so much of an idiot to think that everybody else loves it. what really gets to me – what really bothers me – is that it’s all people see. ever since i was a not-so-little kid. hey, tiny, want to play football? hey, tiny, how many burgers did you eat today? hey, tiny, you ever lose your dick down there? hey, tiny, you’re going to join the basketball team whether you like it or not. just don’t try to look at us in the locker room! does that sound easy to you, will?

I’m about to say something, but he holds up his hand.

tiny: you know what? i’m totally at peace with being big-boned. and i was g*y long before i knew what sex was. it’s just who i am, and that’s great. i don’t want to be thin or conventionally beautiful or straight or brilliant. no, what i really want – and what i never get – is to be appreciated. do you know what it’s like to work so hard to make sure everyone’s happy, and to have not a single person recognize it? i can work my ass off bringing together the other will grayson and jane – no appreciation, only grief. i write this whole musical that’s basically about love, and the main character in it – besides me, of course – is phil wrayson, who needs to figure some things out, but is all-in-all a pretty wonderful guy. and does will get that? no. he freaks out. i do everything i can to be a good boyfriend with you – no appreciation, only grief. i try to make this musical so it can create something, to show that we all have something to sing – no appreciation, only grief. this musical is a gift, will. my gift to the world. it’s not about me. it’s about what i have to share. there’s a difference – i see it, but i am worried that i am the only frickin’ one who sees it. you think i have it easy, will? are you really dying to try on these size fifteens? because every morning when i wake up, i have to convince myself that, yes, by the end of the day, i will be able to do something good. that’s all i ask – to be able to do something good. not for myself, you whiny shithead bastard complainer who, incidentally, i really, really like. but for my friends. for other people.

me: but why me? i mean, what do you see in me? tiny: you have a heart, will. you even let it slip out every now and then. i see that in you. and i see that you need me.

I shake my head.

me: don’t you get it? i don’t need anyone.

tiny: that only means you need me more.

It’s so clear to me.

me: you’re not in love with me. you’re in love with my need.

tiny: who said i was in love with anything? i said ‘really, really like.’

he stops now. pauses.

tiny: this always happens. some variation of this always happens.

me: i’m sorry.

tiny: they always say ‘i’m sorry,’ too.

me: i can’t do this, tiny.

tiny: you can, but you won’t. you just won’t.

It’s like i don’t have to break up with him, because he’s already had the conversation in his head. i should feel relieved that i don’t have to say anything. but instead, i only feel worse.

me: it’s not your fault. i just can’t feel anything.

tiny: really? are you really feeling nothing right now? nothing at all?

I want to tell him: nobody ever told me how to deal with things like this. shouldn’t letting go be painless if you’ve never learned how to hold on?

tiny: i’m going to go now.

and i’m going to stay. i’m going to stay on this swing as he walks away. i’m going to stay silent as he gets in his car. i’m going to stay still as i hear the car start, then drive away. i’m going to stay in the wrong, because i don’t know how to get through the thicket of my own mind in order to reach whatever it is that i’m supposed to do. i’m going to stay the same, and the same, and the same, until i die of it.

minutes have to pass before i can admit that, yes, even though i tell myself i’m feeling nothing, it’s a lie. i want to say i’m feeling remorse or regret or even guilt. but none of those words seem like enough. what i’m feeling is shame. raw, loathing shame. i don’t want to be the person i am. i don’t want to be the person who just did what i did.

It’s not even about tiny, really.

I am awful.

I am heartless.

I am scared that these things are actually true.

I run back to my house. i am starting to sob – i’m not even thinking about it, but my body is falling to pieces. my hand is shaking so much that i drop the keys before i finally get them in the door. the house is empty. i am empty. i try to eat. i try to crawl into bed. nothing works. i do feel things. i feel everything. and i need to know i’m not alone. so i’m getting out the phone. i’m not even thinking about it. i’m pressing the number and i’m hearing the ring and as soon as it’s answered, i’m shouting into the phone:

me: I LOVE YOU. DO YOU HEAR ME, I LOVE YOU?