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one more year. all he needed to survive was one goddamn year and he'd prove everyone wrong - he would eventually become something, get a good job, make a difference in the world. yet, at twenty-one years old, it felt like edward was lying to himself throughout his entire academic life. sure, he always ended his semester with all A's and his professors went out of their way to comment on his incredible intellect, something that he'd never experienced in high school, but what would he do once he graduated? what if his degree really was useless? the idea made him feel nauseous.
one more year and he'd be free to live a boring, numb life. it would be indistinguishable from the life of a lowly ant - toiling away with no progress in sight until he died with no enrichment or happiness to be felt - but it would be manageable. he was too afraid to end his own life, after all - even if he wasn't religious anymore, being raised by devout catholics in the orphanage had permanently left him in a state of paralysis at the thought of dying to escape hell only to end up on a deeper layer. so, he would just live on autopilot until he died just as anticlimactically and forgettable as he'd lived.
of course he couldn't get that lucky.
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it started during a presentation in his final lecture of the day. it was humiliating to scrape together some kind of powerpoint and loose script to explain his topic - what was this, middle school? - but he knew enough about it to stammer his way through. most people didn't pay attention except the professor and one guy in the very back. as edward made his way to his desk, the other man gave him a slight smile and said, "that was a really good presentation."
the unexpected praise made edward's heart jolt so hard he thought he might pass out then and there. all he could manage was a little, "oh, thank you!" in a voice much higher than he intended.
then, the nail in the coffin; "you must really know what you're talking about."
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no hint of sarcasm bled through the words his classmate had spoken. no mocking, no condescension - just a true show of camaraderie.
edward was embarrassed to realize just how obsessed he'd gotten overnight. he shuddered under the cheap blanket he laid under and tried not to think about the guy. and yet, the more he tried to think of anything else, the more his soft-spoken compliments came to mind. for once, he was looking forward to attending lectures.
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edward never worked up the courage to speak to him - or anyone except his professors, for that matter - but his eyes stayed fixed on the back of his newest obsession during lectures. his notes became half-hearted and sloppy. he could always just redo them later, after all - but he could only see this guy once per day.
-
back in bed again after a long and boring day, edward replayed the compliments again in his head. no one had recognized him that way. professors wrote about his high achievements in their feedback, of course, but that was their job - besides, many of them also criticized him harshly for his tendency to become hung up on minute details in the instructions, or his lack of charisma during group assignments and presentations. no one had acknowledged him so plainly and sweetly. the thought made his head swirl and his stomach flutter.
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when edward was young, he never knew why everyone fawned over god. when adults shouted and cheered and celebrated god, edward sat in quiet disbelief and confusion. such adoration for someone you've never met? someone you've never seen or interacted with? how did they even know god existed? even if he did, did the small 'signs' of existence truly command such blind and tenacious faith?
as an adult, edward finally grasps what faith is, through man and not god.
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every day is exactly the same. one singular highlight. occasionally, if he's lucky, his idol will smile and greet him. when that happens, edward can hardly focus anymore. his stomach buzzes and tingles and his head feels foggy - to be acknowledged by the object of his faith drives him wild. he knows that they were made for each other - he knows it.
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in his adult life, edward viewed sex as filth. he viewed it as something defiling and harmful, a one-way ticket to hell that he could never acquire. his body was a cumbersome primal thing that yearned for primal needs and nothing more - relieving it was a gruesome task and one he preferred to get over with as soon as possible. it was never worth the shame and stark loneliness that flooded afterward. before, he would drop to his knees and pray to a god he wasn't sure existed for forgiveness; he would prostrate himself and debase himself before the supposed creator and plead for mercy.
tonight, the words on the lips of his god linger in his mind and awaken him again. he handles the miserable endeavor and finishes with the fantasy of the man he's fallen for tilting his head up, hot breath against the side of edward's face as he mumbles, "you did so good for me." tonight, when the unsightly maw between his legs is satiated, he does not recite the lord's prayer anymore. tonight, he prays to a different god.