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I was a moonchild,

A lost child with dreams of something grand,

Exploring the terrain of Neverland

In this land, I met a boy,

Oh, I met this boy,

He too was on the moon and brought me nothing but joy

We were just kids,

Playing cowboy wranglers and pirates at sea,

But together is something we could not be

I flew to the moon,

We flew to the moon,

We ran, we jumped, we soared

But the boy, my boy, he just wanted to be more,

But I wasn't ready to grow up

I have lead in my shoes

This boy was filled with helium,

Uplifting

But I couldn't, no, I can't keep up

I want to be with him,

But I'm stuck,

Boy, I am stuck

And you left me

I didn't want to hold you back,

But I didn't think you'd really do that,

Our days of playing pretend,

Our memories meaning nothing to you in the end

I loved you then

I love you now

But I can't grow up

I flew to the moon,

Just to be brought down to Earth

I'm sick of crying,

I'm sick of trying...

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I woke up alone this morning.

It's funny how such a simple sentence causes me to feel so empty and emotionally hollow. This wasn't a problem before. I was always waking up alone, but now I'm always cold. I don't have Ethan to keep me warm and I don't have anyone to say good morning to.

Transitioning wasn't easy. There were many days where I'd wake up and start talking to an Ethan who wasn't even there. Half asleep, my hand would tiredly search to comb through his hair. However, there was no Ethan and this harsh reality would hit me in the gut, ruining whatever pleasant dream I may have had.

I guess I still have this fucked up idea that Ethan will come home, that he's just taking a break right now. So I take good care of my appearance, this intense fear that if I don't, Ethan may come back, take one look at me, and then walk right back out the front door.

I wouldn't let him though.

If Ethan comes back and tries to leave me again, I'll cry and scream. He's not allowed to leave me. He promised that he wouldn't. But it's all my fault.

"Sounds like the only thing holding you back from what you want... is ."

It is me that's holding me back. It's my depression. It's my fear of bringing him down to where I am. If only I was healthy. If only I was happy, then he'd still be here with me. Too many times, I had to force myself to smile with Ethan, not because he wasn't enough to make me happy, but because I just couldn't. It's not fair. I'm not allowed to have him. But I want him so fucking much that it's driving me crazy.

"I would leave you."

Bullshit. He left.

I hear a sound coming from Momo's home and frown at her full bowl. Lately, she's been refusing to eat, going on miniature hunger strikes to try and get what she wants. I don't know why she's doing this, but it started two days ago. She eats just enough to keep her alive, but I highly doubt it's enough to keep her healthy.

"Momo, baby girl, what's wrong?" I stick my finger through and try and pet her, but she just shies away.

She's mad at me because I pushed Ethan away. She hates me now. Everyone hates me now.

Blinking, I robotically walk towards my laptop and open it. First semester is done and grades are up. It's all I've been working on lately. I'm functioning on about thirty minutes of sleep right now, but if my GPA is perfect, it'll all be worth it. My dad will be happy and proud. Maybe I'll feel like I have my life together too.

Perfect grades stare at me and I shut my laptop, curling into myself. It doesn't help. It's fake. Everything I am, everything I want to be, will never be the way I want it. I am damned to be alone, to work as a robot without an ounce of passion. This is what measures success, how empty you feel. I have everything. I have the grades, I have money, and I have a secured career, the American Dream. But it's all a fucking sham.

I get up and head to the kitchen and pull the brownies out of the oven, tossing the old ones in the garbage bin. It's become sort of a habit of mine, making Ethan's favorite brownies so that they're fresh for if he decides to come home. I do something similar with his bedroom too, cleaning it everyday before waiting in front of the door for the brunet who never comes. It's sad, but it gives at least some sort of meaning to my existence right now while he's somewhere, most likely okay and able to breathe for once.

Maybe it's best he left.

Yeah, that has to be it. I look at my phone, my thumb hovering over his contact for some reason. Shaking my head, I set my phone down and grab pens and paper and begin writing, pouring everything out so that I don't keep bottling it up. After I'm done, I fold each paper up and then place each in an envelope. On the envelopes, the recipient's name is written in neat, black calligraphy.

"Mom"

"Dad"

"Xander"

"Scout"

"Carmen"

"Ethan"

I seal the envelopes with my wax seals and then set them in an organized pile before writing my will. I don't exactly know what I'm doing regarding this will or if it'll hold legally, but it puts me at ease anyway.

'Last Will and Testament mm/dd/yyyy

My name is Charles Adrian King, who lives at xxxx and I am over the age of eighteen. For proof of my age and identity, my social security number is vvvv-vvv-vvvv and my birthday is December first, 1994. I am of sound mind and I am not writing this under duress. This is my last will and testament and it revokes any previously made will or codicil.

In regards to my executor of the will, I choose my brother, Xander Tyler King, to carry out the directions of this will and if he is unable or unwilling to do so, I choose my father, James King to do it in his stead as secondary executor.

Heirs

As of right now, I am a single man with no human children to give anything, so instead, these people are my heirs:

- Xander Tyler King

- Scout Jones

- Carmen O'Malley

- Ethan Liam Dechart

Out of the previous heirs, I choose Ethan Liam Dechart to watch after Momo, our pet guinea pig and if he refuses her, I would like to have Xander take care of her.

The Divisions

This following list is for who gets what.

- My savings: 50% Ethan Liam Dechart, 25% Carmen O'Malley, 25% Scout Jones

- My journal: Ethan Liam Dechart

- My cook book: Carmen O'Malley

- Calligraphy set: Ethan Liam Dechart

- My laptop: Ethan Liam Dechart

- Snake terrarium: Scout Jones

- All unopened makeup: Carmen O'Malley

- My truck: Xander King

- My car: Ethan Liam Dechart

- Furniture, clothing, shoes: charity

Charles Adrian King

With shaky breath, I set my my pen down and hold my head in my hands, Ethan's words replaying over and over in my head. I'll never forget that night. His words will never not hurt.

"I was everything, I did everything, god, I'm so stupid!"

He was everything. He did do everything and I didn't deserve it. He was so beautiful, so perfect, but I can't be that. He wasn't stupid though, not for loving me. He was just nice. I hope he's better now. I hope he's happy now. He deserves it. Fuck, he deserves everything. If I could, I'd catch a whole galaxy in my hand and gift it to him.

"But you don't love me."

That's not true. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Exhaling, I put my newly written will away and tell Momo goodbye before heading to the bathroom and opening the medicine cabinet. I take a good long look at the contents before settling on a bottle of pain meds from when I had my wisdom teeth removed. I grab about ten of the pills and pop them one after the other and grip the counter, the room spinning. My breathing becomes ragged after a while and it gets really hard to breathe, my chest tightening. It hurts a lot and I just want it to stop.

Falling to the floor, I vomit up blood and reach into the cabinets to grab a package of razor blades. I open them with my teeth, my vision fuzzy, my skin hot and sweaty, and my hands shaking. Sobbing, I bring the sharp metal to my wrist and pull down.

Everything stops.

I'm finally free.

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