(no subject)
Watch Him Bleed
by cuentosdelalma
Gaston looks at the mug sitting on the counter beside him. He'd like nothing more than to let it fly in David's general direction--not to actually hit the blond but to scare him and make him flinch. The other man is standing just inside his door, looking hesitant. Gaston would like to see the mug shatter because he'd enjoy it, because then he'd have some reason for all the rage boiling inside of him; a direction in which to send it. But he can't throw the mug. He can't bring himself to let the violence go and completely lose control of himself.
He can see the emotions in David. The other man has control of his emotions. For David, it's not like it is for Gaston. David's emotions aren't locked away behind some wall. He doesn't spend every day feeling numb and useless, like he's not a real person and everything he feels is just a pale imitation of what he should be feeling The only things Gaston can really feel are rage and helplessness, and even those are different.
They're more than they should be, almost all-consuming. Once he's lost in them, he can't get out, can't find his way back to what has become normal for him. He can't remember the last time he felt happiness. He's laughed, but he can't remember the last time he really felt what it was to laugh. He can't remember the last time it wasn't just something he did and was something he felt.
If he can't have what he wants, he'll take what he can get. The rage. It's better than the helpless sense of sinking he knows is coming.
He can see David's upset too. Gaston is yelling at him, and he's yelling right back. Gaston knows better than to go out of his way to pick a fight to work himself up. It's a dirty tactic to use to hide from himself, one he always swears he won't use again. He promises himself when he's alone, miserable, and crying that he won't use David this way anymore. He reminds himself he loves David, and this is not something he should be doing to the people he loves.
Taking his illness out on David is not okay. It's not all right to make David feel worse so he can feel better in comparison.
He needs to stop making David prove that he actually, really loves Gaston. He needs to take his boyfriend at his word. He promises himself this time, he'll be stronger. He won't doubt so much. He'll get control of his illness, stay on the meds no matter what, and he won't keep putting David through this.
He's always had trouble with his depression and anxiety. Something will work for a while, and then it'll stop working. He thought that officially retiring would make it better, but it hasn't. David is still on the tour, and because of that, Gaston spends half his days wondering if he's going to be traded in for a newer, better model that isn't broken every time David leaves.
Like del Potro or someone else. After all, love and hate are exceedingly close together.
So he stares at David silently and tries to hold onto the anger. He holds on with everything he is. Everything is easier to deal with when he's angry. He doesn't have to think everything through three times and then force himself to go do it. He doesn't second guess himself. He doesn't let his ridiculous fears control him.
When he's truly angry, like he was when David walked in, the rage takes over. He's free from everything else for those few fleeting moments. He's just the same as every other angry person in the world. He yells, hurls insults, and attacks to defend himself from hurt. It's glorious. It's normal.
He knows David will never understand. David would leave him if he ever understood just how truly broken Gaston is. The fear that claws at him every time David goes away would be a wedge between them. It's one of the worst things about being depressed, and one of the few reasons he can never give David for why they fight.
He feels like he's holding onto himself by the barest margin. David starts to speak, and Gaston's sure it's important, but the words don't really register. He hears them, but they don't make a whole lot of sense. They're just noise floating by him. Only words until David proves he's going to stay. No matter what.
If that can ever happen.
"Gaston, what the hell is going on? I can't fix this if you won't talk to me. I can't do this if you won't tell me what's wrong!"
"So what? You're just going to leave me because I can't explain it? Walk out the door and find someone who's not so fucked up and less work? Juan Martin maybe?"
David blinks at him, quiet again. Gaston can practically feel the confusion coming off his boyfriend. David has no idea how he reached the point at which they find themselves. Poor David always seems to be left trying to piece together what's going on in his mind.
"No one ever said anything about me finding someone else. I love you. This is foolish." David's truly angry now. Gaston knows the tone.
"But you think I'm being stupid."
"I think you're overreacting to a bunch of stupid rumours."
"I am not overreacting. Don't tell me what I'm doing, David. You don't understand at all."
Gaston watches David close his eyes, and he can almost hear the other man counting to ten. It frustrates him and pisses him off at the same time. David is still in control. This isn't controlling David like it is him. And worse yet, counting to ten actually does something for David.
He hates that. It makes something inside of him snap. He wants to force David to be as out-of-control as he is. He wants to watch someone else struggle and hurt for a change.
It makes him want to watch the other man bleed.
Because he doesn't want to be the only one bleeding in the room.
"Explain it to me, Gaston. Tell me what I don't understand. Talk to me, and maybe I'll understand."
"I can't. If you don't understand, how am I supposed to explain it?"
"You can try."
"I AM TRYING."
"I understand this inability to express what's bothering you is part of depression a lot of the time, Gato. Try me though. Tell me what's going on. I won't run away. I'm here to stay."
Something clicks into place in Gaston's mind, and it's so, so perfect. "It's not the depression, David. It's me. The problem is me. I am nothing without the illness. It is me. You can't make it something you can beat. It's just me."
David's flinch is more satisfying than if he'd thrown the mug. Words are obviously the most effective weapon he can find.
He feels like he's bleeding, like he's cut himself open. It's this steady, seeping flow of blood, but it's something. He feels something. In this moment, he's more than simply numb, unbalanced, doubtful, and overwhelmed. He can feel the ebb of it inside of him, even though it's not real blood. It's peaceful, soothing.
It's nice.
David looks shaken and pained. It's awful, but Gaston's glad David looks like he's bleeding on the inside too.
"I need to leave for a bit, Gaston. I'll be back later. I promise I'll be back. I need to go out, get some air, figure out what's going on in my own head right now, and how we move forward. I won't keep doing this. I can't just stand by and watch you do this to yourself. I can't... be here."
Gaston doesn't really have anything else to say as David leaves. After all, he's done his very best to drive the other man away. It's what he wants. Only it's not what he wants, and as the door shuts quietly behind David, he knows it.
That quiet control only makes it worse. He would have slammed the door in frustration and anger at his own weakness. David is still controlling himself, his anger, enough to close it. The thought drives a sudden streak of rage through him, and the mug goes flying. It breaks into a million pieces against the door.
Impossible to put back together.
Just like him.
Slowly, the tension leaves his body. He slides down to lean against the counter, huddled into himself. He spares a thought for how pathetic he must look, and that seems right. He should look pathetic. He is pathetic. And a huddled mess on the kitchen floor is certainly pathetic.
Looking at the shards of the mug on the floor by the door is enough to cause his last little bit of control to crumble. The sobs he's been biting back all day start to escape. Each one slips through, bitten off and tortured.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Then it's all gone, and he can't control them or stop them, despite the fact he wants to. No, he needs to stop them, gather back some control.
It makes sense. He's broken, bleeding on the inside, and all alone because he's weak. Because in one moment he lost control and wanted to see the man he loves hurt as much as he hurts. He wanted David to be unsure and doubtful and feel like he didn't belong. He wanted David to understand what Gaston deals with every day. But he drove David away.
Maybe it's safer this way. David will probably never come back. He's probably already gone to Juan Martin. But at least David won't have left him. He'll have left first. He'll still have something.
He's not sure how long it takes for his sobs to trail off, or how long he sits on the floor, staring at the door: willing it to open; willing David to come back; for things to be okay; to have another chance as what follows is a list of the things he hopes will happen.
The door doesn't open.
Fini.
Notes:
1. Some basic information on Gaston Gaudio can be found at Wikipedia. Some quotes are located , and they sort of tell you how Gaston thinks of himself.
2. Gaudio suffers from depression, and he's been treated for it in the past.
3. He officially announced his retirement on August 30, 2011. He will still play exhos and the like.
4. Have a cute Gaston interview where he talks about not being too upset about retirement
5. Depression is a serious medical condition that presents itself in different ways for everyone. This is simply my interpretation of what Gaudio's depression could look like.
by cuentosdelalma
Gaston looks at the mug sitting on the counter beside him. He'd like nothing more than to let it fly in David's general direction--not to actually hit the blond but to scare him and make him flinch. The other man is standing just inside his door, looking hesitant. Gaston would like to see the mug shatter because he'd enjoy it, because then he'd have some reason for all the rage boiling inside of him; a direction in which to send it. But he can't throw the mug. He can't bring himself to let the violence go and completely lose control of himself.
He can see the emotions in David. The other man has control of his emotions. For David, it's not like it is for Gaston. David's emotions aren't locked away behind some wall. He doesn't spend every day feeling numb and useless, like he's not a real person and everything he feels is just a pale imitation of what he should be feeling The only things Gaston can really feel are rage and helplessness, and even those are different.
They're more than they should be, almost all-consuming. Once he's lost in them, he can't get out, can't find his way back to what has become normal for him. He can't remember the last time he felt happiness. He's laughed, but he can't remember the last time he really felt what it was to laugh. He can't remember the last time it wasn't just something he did and was something he felt.
If he can't have what he wants, he'll take what he can get. The rage. It's better than the helpless sense of sinking he knows is coming.
He can see David's upset too. Gaston is yelling at him, and he's yelling right back. Gaston knows better than to go out of his way to pick a fight to work himself up. It's a dirty tactic to use to hide from himself, one he always swears he won't use again. He promises himself when he's alone, miserable, and crying that he won't use David this way anymore. He reminds himself he loves David, and this is not something he should be doing to the people he loves.
Taking his illness out on David is not okay. It's not all right to make David feel worse so he can feel better in comparison.
He needs to stop making David prove that he actually, really loves Gaston. He needs to take his boyfriend at his word. He promises himself this time, he'll be stronger. He won't doubt so much. He'll get control of his illness, stay on the meds no matter what, and he won't keep putting David through this.
He's always had trouble with his depression and anxiety. Something will work for a while, and then it'll stop working. He thought that officially retiring would make it better, but it hasn't. David is still on the tour, and because of that, Gaston spends half his days wondering if he's going to be traded in for a newer, better model that isn't broken every time David leaves.
Like del Potro or someone else. After all, love and hate are exceedingly close together.
So he stares at David silently and tries to hold onto the anger. He holds on with everything he is. Everything is easier to deal with when he's angry. He doesn't have to think everything through three times and then force himself to go do it. He doesn't second guess himself. He doesn't let his ridiculous fears control him.
When he's truly angry, like he was when David walked in, the rage takes over. He's free from everything else for those few fleeting moments. He's just the same as every other angry person in the world. He yells, hurls insults, and attacks to defend himself from hurt. It's glorious. It's normal.
He knows David will never understand. David would leave him if he ever understood just how truly broken Gaston is. The fear that claws at him every time David goes away would be a wedge between them. It's one of the worst things about being depressed, and one of the few reasons he can never give David for why they fight.
He feels like he's holding onto himself by the barest margin. David starts to speak, and Gaston's sure it's important, but the words don't really register. He hears them, but they don't make a whole lot of sense. They're just noise floating by him. Only words until David proves he's going to stay. No matter what.
If that can ever happen.
"Gaston, what the hell is going on? I can't fix this if you won't talk to me. I can't do this if you won't tell me what's wrong!"
"So what? You're just going to leave me because I can't explain it? Walk out the door and find someone who's not so fucked up and less work? Juan Martin maybe?"
David blinks at him, quiet again. Gaston can practically feel the confusion coming off his boyfriend. David has no idea how he reached the point at which they find themselves. Poor David always seems to be left trying to piece together what's going on in his mind.
"No one ever said anything about me finding someone else. I love you. This is foolish." David's truly angry now. Gaston knows the tone.
"But you think I'm being stupid."
"I think you're overreacting to a bunch of stupid rumours."
"I am not overreacting. Don't tell me what I'm doing, David. You don't understand at all."
Gaston watches David close his eyes, and he can almost hear the other man counting to ten. It frustrates him and pisses him off at the same time. David is still in control. This isn't controlling David like it is him. And worse yet, counting to ten actually does something for David.
He hates that. It makes something inside of him snap. He wants to force David to be as out-of-control as he is. He wants to watch someone else struggle and hurt for a change.
It makes him want to watch the other man bleed.
Because he doesn't want to be the only one bleeding in the room.
"Explain it to me, Gaston. Tell me what I don't understand. Talk to me, and maybe I'll understand."
"I can't. If you don't understand, how am I supposed to explain it?"
"You can try."
"I AM TRYING."
"I understand this inability to express what's bothering you is part of depression a lot of the time, Gato. Try me though. Tell me what's going on. I won't run away. I'm here to stay."
Something clicks into place in Gaston's mind, and it's so, so perfect. "It's not the depression, David. It's me. The problem is me. I am nothing without the illness. It is me. You can't make it something you can beat. It's just me."
David's flinch is more satisfying than if he'd thrown the mug. Words are obviously the most effective weapon he can find.
He feels like he's bleeding, like he's cut himself open. It's this steady, seeping flow of blood, but it's something. He feels something. In this moment, he's more than simply numb, unbalanced, doubtful, and overwhelmed. He can feel the ebb of it inside of him, even though it's not real blood. It's peaceful, soothing.
It's nice.
David looks shaken and pained. It's awful, but Gaston's glad David looks like he's bleeding on the inside too.
"I need to leave for a bit, Gaston. I'll be back later. I promise I'll be back. I need to go out, get some air, figure out what's going on in my own head right now, and how we move forward. I won't keep doing this. I can't just stand by and watch you do this to yourself. I can't... be here."
Gaston doesn't really have anything else to say as David leaves. After all, he's done his very best to drive the other man away. It's what he wants. Only it's not what he wants, and as the door shuts quietly behind David, he knows it.
That quiet control only makes it worse. He would have slammed the door in frustration and anger at his own weakness. David is still controlling himself, his anger, enough to close it. The thought drives a sudden streak of rage through him, and the mug goes flying. It breaks into a million pieces against the door.
Impossible to put back together.
Just like him.
Slowly, the tension leaves his body. He slides down to lean against the counter, huddled into himself. He spares a thought for how pathetic he must look, and that seems right. He should look pathetic. He is pathetic. And a huddled mess on the kitchen floor is certainly pathetic.
Looking at the shards of the mug on the floor by the door is enough to cause his last little bit of control to crumble. The sobs he's been biting back all day start to escape. Each one slips through, bitten off and tortured.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Then it's all gone, and he can't control them or stop them, despite the fact he wants to. No, he needs to stop them, gather back some control.
It makes sense. He's broken, bleeding on the inside, and all alone because he's weak. Because in one moment he lost control and wanted to see the man he loves hurt as much as he hurts. He wanted David to be unsure and doubtful and feel like he didn't belong. He wanted David to understand what Gaston deals with every day. But he drove David away.
Maybe it's safer this way. David will probably never come back. He's probably already gone to Juan Martin. But at least David won't have left him. He'll have left first. He'll still have something.
He's not sure how long it takes for his sobs to trail off, or how long he sits on the floor, staring at the door: willing it to open; willing David to come back; for things to be okay; to have another chance as what follows is a list of the things he hopes will happen.
The door doesn't open.
Fini.
Notes:
1. Some basic information on Gaston Gaudio can be found at Wikipedia. Some quotes are located , and they sort of tell you how Gaston thinks of himself.
2. Gaudio suffers from depression, and he's been treated for it in the past.
3. He officially announced his retirement on August 30, 2011. He will still play exhos and the like.
4. Have a cute Gaston interview where he talks about not being too upset about retirement
5. Depression is a serious medical condition that presents itself in different ways for everyone. This is simply my interpretation of what Gaudio's depression could look like.