The Story of Justin, Part 2.

He told her everything.

It was strange, for him, to have someone to just…talk to. Over text, online, in person; every time he spoke to her, more and more would spill out of him. It was almost embarrassing, and he often wondered (aloud, to her) if he was just being stupid and humiliating himself. She’d reassure him, prompt him into saying more, and he was keep going.

The more he knew about her, the more he felt utterly inferior. She was too good, almost, and it was frightening. Almost universally liked by his classmates, despite her quirks. Patient, beautiful, commanding. She had a presence about her that managed to both dominate and accept, and Justin was growing entirely reliant on her.

Hearing from her would get him through the day. He continued to open up his every thought and feeling…even when she began to change, and a cycle started to form.

It was subtle, at first. Little things she said that held a note of condescension. Sometimes, she would offhandedly compare something Justin had done to someone else – not saying either was better, or worse, but it would send him into a self-conscious panic for days afterwards, wondering what she’d meant by it. She dropped frequent, niggling implications that she might lose interest in him, which prompted him to scurry about like an ant serving his queen, trying to appease her.

All the subtle gestures were like grubs, chewing through his brain and growing there, escalating the anxiety and depression.

Then, it started getting a little more…malicious. It was as though certain things she said were just designed to crawl under his skin. Tiny barbs that he might have been misinterpreting; had she really just implied that he was weak? That he was being unreasonable, for feeling depressed?

Every thought he’d ever had against himself had been put under a magnifying glass. She stopped being quite so subtle, but he didn’t even notice, anymore. She never needed to attack himself, outright…soon, all it took were a few choice words, using the things she’d told him in confidence against him, and Justin would crumble.

That was when things would loop around, neatly completing the cycle. She would help put Justin back together with her sweetness and her acceptance. He would apologize for being so weak, pathetic, and needy.

On those nights – the make-up nights – he would sleep over at her house, and he would fall asleep to her stroking his hair until he fell asleep.

The cycle continued. Again, and again, until he caught her. But by that time…it was too late.