Chapter Text
“dear ponyboy curtis,
i am going to stay gold, and here’s how:”
i continuously tap my pencil against the paper, searching for the words i wanted to write, but coming up empty-handed.
i used to like writing to myself, but now, it’s become this draining task i force myself to do. i can never articulate what i want. there aren’t any words that can describe how i feel, and even if there were, it’s hard to string those words into coherent sentences. my feelings are too abstract and unconventional.
i don’t know what to write, because i don’t actually believe i can stay gold, but i must convince myself that i will. if i stop writing these letters, i’ll end up forgetting to stay gold, and i don’t want to do that to johnny.
johnny and dally died almost a year ago, yet i’ve never really gotten over it, not like everybody else has. i think about them every day. the intense grief has settled—i can go through my day without feeling as sick as i used to—but my chest still hurts whenever i’m reminded of them. my life hasn’t felt the same with them gone. everything has changed so much, and i’ve never felt so… alone.
the gang doesn’t hang around me like they used to. nowadays, it’s mostly soda, steve, two-bit, and ace either at work or having fun around the neighborhood together, usually the latter. i know soda, two-bit, and ace wouldn’t mind if i came with, but after windrixville, i started to take steve’s tag-along comments to heart; i‘ve grown even more sensitive than i was before. so whenever the four would go out, i’d force myself to stay home, and after a while soda learned to stop inviting me, knowing i’d refuse.
darry, on the other hand, had been spending overtime at his roofing job almost every day now, still paying off mom and dad and johnny and dal’s funerals, as well as mine, johnny’s, and dally’s hospital bills from the windrixville fire, even though it’s been eleven months since then. no one else but him could pay the expenses; mr cade had been jailed for beating mrs cade to death a few weeks after their son’s death, just like he had feared, and dally’s father was nowhere to be seen.
to make things even worse for darry, right before we were finally back on our feet with the bills, i got myself sent to the hospital five weeks ago—the day after my birthday, actually—and with the amount of money he’d need to pay those bills off, plus the regular household expenses, darry is never home anymore.
all of that meant that i was, and very frequently, by myself. i got used to the sound of my own thoughts being my only company. i walked home by my lonesome after track meets because nobody came to watch me, then hid my medals in the back of the closet so my brothers wouldn’t feel guilty for not showing up. i did all the chores and cooked dinner because no one else was around anymore. i didn’t have much to do anyway, besides write my letters and do homework. if i was having a bad day, or if i was feeling particularly lonely, i would lay down in bed and hug a pillow until i eased the heaviness out of my heart. i didn’t feel so empty afterwards.
“today, i’ll pack myself a pb&j sandwich for lunch, and that will make me happy, because lately i’ve haven’t been packing lunch and it’s made me feel tired. then in the evening, i will watch the sunset on the porch and play a nice record in the background with a pepsi. that will make me happy too.”
it was a short paragraph, but it was the only thing i could think of. it’s the small things that matter, right?
i closed the notebook and shoved it in my backpack. darry and soda had already left for work before i woke up, so i made a small breakfast for myself and headed out the door. autumn was approaching, but in a state like oklahoma, it was still warm outside. the weather made me wish i could wear short sleeves; i can’t or else the scar on my arm would show. for now, i just fidget with my hoodie sleeve, hoping no one will ask or give me trouble.
school had started two weeks ago, but i was already tired of it. i was still known as “the kid who caused the death of bob sheldon.” i really hoped the title would fade away over summer break, but that was stupid. of course everyone remembered.
having bob’s death constantly attached to me made freshman year absolutely horrible. cherry couldn’t talk to me anymore. she started dating chet six months after bob, and it was obvious why he made cherry keep her distance. and the socs already hated my guts, so getting bob killed really fueled their hatred to the max. the greasers, on the other hand, just ignored me. i was the only greaser in honors classes—and i still am—so there was no point in trying to be friends if i never saw any of them around, and the others all thought the same. even the rest of the track team didn’t like me because in their eyes, i was competition.
i remember being so depressed after johnny and dally dying, i couldn’t bring myself to do anything. my grades were awful for months, but i luckily got them up to A’s and B’s before the end of first semester. i forced myself to start putting in effort again so i wouldn’t blow my gpa. i stayed up for hours every week overworking myself to the brim, making up for the studying i missed and the assignments i failed. i never got over my sadness, but shoved it to the side until winter break.
when the final report card came in for first semester, i still got yelled at by darry because i got three B’s, but it was better than the C’s and D’s i could’ve gotten. then second semester, i got straight A’s, so that evened out the B’s a bit, but it came at the price of my health. i withdrew myself from the gang, surrounded by textbooks and papers instead. the week before finals, i skipped almost every meal trying to make time for homework and studying, i passed out at track practice. i felt so awful for so long, it lasted until school ended and i got those straight A’s. but even then, i couldn’t feel joy or pride; i felt like collapsing to the floor and laying down forever.
with the way things are going, it looks like sophomore year is going to be the same thing, but i’d rather go to school than endure another long, painful summer break. with no friends to talk to and no money to go out anywhere, i spent the last three months in my bedroom, watching as the world passed me by.
somewhere along the way, i lost the energy to go to the movie house or walk to the library, even though those were my favorite things to do. i found myself struggling to get out of bed most days, and when i did, i felt too tired to do anything. i was constantly sad; i still am, but at least now i can distract myself with schoolwork.
i wish i knew what was wrong with me. i’m always making things worse for everyone, even myself. i get into trouble all the time, i’m draining for my family and friends to be around, i can’t do anything right, and i can’t change, no matter how hard i try. that’s just the way i am. i’d rather anybody else. no one is as hopeless as me.
i’ve always been different than the rest of the greasers. nobody likes movies or books like i do. whenever i went to the theater or the library, i always loned it. i never had a problem with that before, but lately, all i’ve been thinking about is how distant i am from everybody else and how everybody else is so distant from me. the only two people who cared about my interests were johnny and sodapop, except johnny’s been dead for a year now and soda found better things to do.
it’s not like he stopped caring—he’d stick around if i asked him to—he just started putting himself first, for once in his life, and starting doing things he actually wanted to put his time toward. soda’s spent an awful lot of time trying to keep everybody else happy, he tends to forget himself. while i do miss having someone to talk to, it’s better he stays away from me. soda’s more carefree, more relaxed, more himself when i’m not around. he’d never admit it, but he doesn’t need to. i already know.
i’m so tired of being like this, i can only imagine how much worse it is for the people around me. my brothers are stronger than people give them credit for, and they’re given a lot of credit. darry and soda do so many things for me, some i don’t even notice, and i’ll never deserve it. i don’t deserve any of their kindness when it’s so obvious i’m the one bringing the whole family down. it’s because of me that they’re exhausted.
and i’m fine with isolating myself if it means darry and soda have one less thing to worry about. i’m okay with pretending to disappear if they’re happier that way.
i just hate how it makes me feel.