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Felix was tired of this. He was so fucking tired. He can’t keep doing this, he really can’t. Call him dramatic all you want, but this was just too much.
He’s tired of being depressed all the time, having one good day being surrounded by loads of bad ones. Of thinking he’s getting better, doing what he needs to, just for it to all go wrong.
He’s tired of the chronic pains he goes through, his joints never giving him peace. His migraines haunting him seemingly every other night. No matter what he does, the pain never stops.
He’s tired of being tired. Of constantly feeling the exhaustion in his fucking bones, it never goes away. If he oversleeps? Still tired. If he doesn’t sleep? Still tired. If he sleeps the recommended amount? Still. Tired. When will it end? When will he not be tired?
But it goes so much further than physical exhaustion. His mind is so clouded with exhaustion he can’t fucking think. Just trying to put this into words is a chore in and of itself.
He takes his meds, he goes to his appointments, he talks with his doctors, does the plans they give him. Nothing. Ever. Fucking. Works.
He’s tired of it. He’s tired of it all. He just wants a break, is that too much to ask for?
He’s constantly working. Not literally, but mentally. Always at everyone’s beck and call, a moment's notice and he’s there ready to help.
His mother has constantly mistreated him. His whole life. For as long as he can remember, she’s never given him the care he needs. Emotionally.
Sure she provided for him, and she supported him through things. Like when he joined choir for the first time, and when he needed rides to his therapy appointments.
But she never provided for him. Not when he started failing classes, not when he told her he lost one of his closest friends over a stupid argument, and surely not when he admitted to hurting himself because he thought he deserved it.
No, when things like that happened she’d either cry, blame him, or act like he should’ve expected the outcome.
“You need to study harder, you can do so much better than that.”
“You shouldn’t trust people so much, they’ll all leave you eventually”
“Why would you think that, you don’t deserve this.”
His mother cared, he knew that of course. But she didn’t care enough. Not in the way he needed her too. And especially not when they argued.
“You’re just being dramatic, and extremely immature right now.”
“No one’s ever going to love you or stay with you, not with that attitude”
“You’re just like your father.”
No, his mother didn’t give him the care he needed, never defended him when he needed, but guess what? He was still there for her no matter what.
She needed a shoulder to cry on even though he was only sixteen? He was there.
She needed someone to yell at because of a bad day at work? He was there.
When she got injured and couldn’t work ever again? He was there. Still is to this day, paying most if not all of the bills occasionally until she gets her disability.
Even then, he’ll still do whatever he can to be there for her. Why? He doesn’t know. Maybe because it’s his mom, he has to care for her right? That’s how parents work right?
No. It’s because he’s been conditioned. He’s nothing but a dog begging for attention, doing the tricks it was taught for a measly treat. Rolling over, shaking a paw, playing dead. Just to get an ounce of what he wants most.
His mother might not treat him the best, but she loves him. That’s all that matters. Anything to get the ounce of scraps that is what he’s learned to be love.
Then there’s his father. God his father was awful. There was no sugar coating it, the man was one of the closest things to the devil you could get without actually meeting him.
But guess what? A good dog never unlearns old tricks! Once a dog, always a dog. They say dogs are the most forgiving creatures, often forgiving you for the most awful of things. Felix really is just like a dog.
His father, since Felix was young, treated him much worse than his mother did. His dad would hit him when he acted out, sometimes leaving marks with how hard he hit.
Felix always defended him, even to this day saying things like “hitting children was legal then, you could spank your kids, he was just punishing me” even though he knew this was wrong.
His father often said cruel things too, often messing with Felix’s head in a way that hasn’t quite gone away. Most of them were physical threats, but the mental aspect of what was said left more of a mark than the hitting ever could.
“If you don’t quit it, I’m going to get my belt.”
“I’ll give you something to cry about”
“You and those crocodile tears, suck it up”
Yes, his father loved to get mad at him for crying. Ingraining into his mind that crying was wrong, he shouldn’t do it unless he had a real reason.
Perfect, for someone filled with so much empathy he wants to cry at everything right? Poor Felix never stood a chance did he?
Even now, his father may not hit him anymore, but his words hit harder than his dad’s hand ever did. Or sometimes even just his lack of words.
No calls to check on him, no, only calls to ask for money. Calls to ask if Felix can do something for him again. Nothing but radio silence until he needs Felix once more.
And what does Felix do? Let his father use him like a personal atm. A metaphorical punching bag. Whatever his father needs, he’ll be there to let him do it.
He doesn’t feel as happy about letting his father take advantage of him the way he does, but that’s all he knows how to do. Felix sometimes hates his father sometimes. Debates cutting him off constantly.
But just like a dog, he’s trained to beg and apologize even if he’s the one who was hurt. Being there for every game of fetch, even if the stick is actually a dual ended blade cutting into his gums.
Though his parents aren’t the only people in his life he sacrifices himself for, god no. Felix sacrifices himself for everyone actually, even if none of it serves him any purpose.
He’s always polite, always there for every request, there to give whatever part of himself he can, as long as he’s there. Always doing a trick for his treat, even if he’s had too many that day. He just won’t have any tomorrow, that works right?
Felix’s uncle, he doesn’t talk with him very much, but anytime he does he’s very cordial. Very polite, asks how he’s doing, lets his uncle say whatever he wants.
He won’t forget what his uncle said to him, the words lingering like a sour taste in your mouth after a bad meal. But he’ll always be kind towards his uncle, even if his uncle wasn’t always kind towards him.
“I’d rather you be on the streets than here right now, I could give less of a shit where you are.”
“Maybe you should kill yourself, I honestly couldn’t care less.”
No, his uncle wasn’t the kind man he used to be. Taking Felix to get food before he went to work and left Felix with his grandma. No more was the man who was excited to see his nephew.
His uncle doesn’t say something cruel to him like that all the time though. Felix holds onto that. Maybe it was a one time thing, Felix was acting out after all.
When a dog misbehaves, you have to train it to stop right?
The rest of Felix’s family weren’t much better, but if he mentioned every single one then he’d be here for hours. And he was already so fucking tired.
His friends were a different story. Actually multiple different stories. Some even had plot twists, ones you wouldn’t expect to see coming.
Felix loves his friends, even the ones who had those plot twists. His friends mean the world to him, they’ve always been there for him no matter what. He doesn’t know what he’d do without them. They make him who he is, even if sometimes he actually hates some of them.
He’s lost his fair share of friends, sometimes being sad and others being mad. Sometimes he bit down, trying to make sure they never left. And others he bit with the intent to hurt, the way he had been hurt.
Friends come and go, this is something Felix has come to accept over the years. He loves all his friends, past or present. But losing friends constantly, doesn’t take away the pain that comes with it.
Felix had this one friend, knew them for almost thirteen years. They did everything together, they went to school together, played games together, they grew up together. From ages 10 to 22. They were constantly together.
Even when Felix moved, they texted everyday. Hung out every Sunday. They were practically like family, nothing could ever separate the two of them.
Until it did.
“When it came to times when I needed support, you rarely showed the same level of care or effort.”
Felix didn’t even know what he had done wrong. He still doesn’t quite understand it to this day. He stood there, tail between his legs, lost like he couldn’t find his owner.
He knew what his friend was talking about. He did give half-assed support. It wasn’t intentional, it never was, he was just so fucking tired. And he never knew what to say. This wasn’t an excuse, just simply a fact.
He would give stories to show empathy, connection in their struggles, but apparently it was never taken well.
“It hurt me and there were times I felt let down because my story seemed to be one-uped by another one.”
This was never Felix’s intent, always trying to make sure he made it clear he was giving support, empathy, rather than changing the subject. He must not have done so hard enough. Just another stupid dog, barking when he was told to shut up.
He always wanted to be there for his friend, provide the way they did for him all the time. He tried too, he really did. He even thought he was doing well, priding himself on being the comfort he knew he could be.
Apparently he wasn’t. His comforting abilities, the thing he prided himself on, set his self worth in. Was apparently useless. He was useless.
“I’ve defended you, stood by you, and taken your side even when you may not have been in the right.”
Again he knew what his friend meant, something he realized shortly after they abandoned him. Left him on the side of the road like a dog someone couldn’t take care of anymore, but didn’t want to admit it.
Felix made mistakes. He made them a lot. He wasn’t trained by the best of people. His parents often forgetting to teach him how to act. Sometimes he would bite. Sometimes he would bark really loud.
He didn’t want to bite. He didn’t want to be a bad dog. He always wanted to apologize after his mistakes, but he wasn’t taught how. Always being scared of admitting his wrongs, in fear of losing someone completely.
His friend would never call him out on this, no matter how many times they had been bitten. No matter how many times they saw him bite someone. Even if in self defense. His friend always took his side.
It’s part of why he can’t apologize. Why he can’t fix his wrong doings. He’s not blaming his friend specifically, no, not at all. But how can a dog apologize for biting if he’s never taught it’s wrong?
“It doesn’t reflect self-control, and it doesn’t reflect the kind of person you say you want to be.”
That was one of the worst things they had said. And trust him, they said a lot. They apparently had twelve years worth of things to say in fact, but that one hit the hardest.
Felix was trying to get better, really he was. He got help professionally and unprofessionally as much as he could. He did self care books, he had his antidepressants, he was very self aware.
He was doing everything in his fucking power to get better. He knew he made mistakes. He knew that arguments he was in were two-sided. He was aware he wasn’t a good dog.
It wasn’t entirely his fault. He was stuck caring for his mother. Yes, he could just abandon her and leave her to fend for herself. He probably should, it would finally let him get the help he truly needed.
But a loyal dog would never leave its owner, and Felix was nothing if not loyal. So stay he would. Suffering in the endless cycle of improving, being berated, being needed, falling behind, and improving again.
Abandoning his family is something he simply couldn’t do, and healing while being around them was something he couldn’t do either. Not because he didn’t want to, but because they set him back.
Living around his family was like being out at sea on a ship. Oceans can thrive with or without a boat on them, just like people can thrive without being on a ship. Yet both can also work together to create something interesting from time to time.
However, sometimes the waves get angry. The boat leaks oil. Things happen and cause a storm, something that’s toxic for everyone involved. Only removing something from the situation will solve it.
Felix was like a boat, his parents being the ocean. Visiting them with his boat would be fine and calm, the waves peaceful. But the longer he stays, the more his boat leaks oil. The angrier his parents' waves will get.
Unfortunately, Felix lived on his boat stranded out at sea. He’s run out of oil at this rate, only disrupting the waves when he himself gets into the ocean. Which he tried not to do, since the only way he knew how to swim was to doggy paddle.
If Felix wasn’t trapped out at sea, he could get better. His efforts would actually mean something, but for now they were pointless. Like barking at a squirrel running up a tree, he couldn’t climb.
Losing that friend absolutely tore Felix apart, he felt as if his insides were being ripped out of him for the world to see. He had just told this friend how he looked forward to their future together, just for them to leave.
To make matters worse, Felix’s other friend, one he knew for about seven years, also decided they couldn’t deal with him anymore.
“This isn’t happening just from what occurred the past couple days, this is something that has grown over the years.”
Just like before, Felix stood with his tail tucked between his legs, confusion clouding his features. His ears pinned down to his head as if he didn’t want to hear what was being said.
And really, he didn’t. What do you mean that his friends of so long, hadn’t even wanted to be around him for half of it? He thought everything was fine, that he and his friends were going to be friends for life.
But they apparently didn’t feel the same, and for so long too. They constantly held these negative feelings for him, but never told him. Stupid, naive, little dog. That’s what Felix was. Thinking that everything was fine when clearly it wasn’t.
“I just don’t think I can truly be there for you the way you seem to need anyway.”
And there it is. There’s the real issue right there. He needs. He needs, and needs, and needs.
No one can meet his needs. No one can handle them. Not even he, himself can. He doesn’t even know what all of them are.
Felix sacrifices himself for everyone. Comforting them whenever they need, or so he thought. Buying them whatever they need, whenever he can. Hanging out with the all the times they want, even if he doesn’t feel good enough too.
But he can’t even tell anyone what his own needs are. Partly because he has too many to understand and partly because he knows they’re too much to handle.
No one wants a sick and needy dog now do they?
His ex couldn’t handle him, constantly arguing with Felix over everything. Felix would mention that something his ex said upset him, and his ex wouldn’t understand. Said they’d do better, but would just do the same thing over and over.
He mentioned needing reassurance all the time, that sometimes he felt like he wasn’t doing good enough. His ex simply said that they’d do their best, but never did. Finally breaking up with Felix when it all became too much.
Who could blame him, Felix wouldn’t want to be with someone constantly causing problems and complaining all the time either. Who wants an untrained dog, constantly tearing up the house instead of listening?
Obviously his parents can’t handle his needs, often neglecting him altogether. Leaving him out in the doghouse for longer than they should, ignoring his whines of protest when the weather got too hard to handle.
Felix can’t blame them either, if his dog constantly barked and barked, bit him whenever he raised his voice? He wouldn’t let them in the house either. He’d probably get rid of them, because he wouldn’t want to put the dog through pain, but to each their own.
Even his current friends couldn’t handle him very well. They love him, don’t get Felix wrong, but he can tell that there are issues.
Sometimes he barks too loud, and it upsets them. Causing a tense silence that makes everyone uncomfortable.
They always talk about it, they reassure him it wasn’t his fault, that it was just their situation that made them upset. But deep down, he wonders if they think just like everyone else does.
Sometimes he gets too excited. Fetching his ball and bringing it back excitedly one too many times. His friends will keep throwing it for a good amount of time, but eventually they have to stop.
He wears them out when he gets like that, often bordering on annoying with all the energy he has. They assure him that isn’t true, that sometimes people’s energies don’t align the same way, but doubt sits somewhere deep in his chest,
Sometimes he needs too much help from them. Constantly asking to go on walks when he feels down, needing someone to be around him so he isn’t alone. But his friends have lives, have others to help, and have better things to do. It doesn’t always line up and they can’t handle taking him for a walk.
He assures them that they don’t always have to be there for him, that he can walk himself no problem. He’s a big boy, a good dog, he can take care of himself!
He doesn’t always need to burden someone with his problems. Doesn’t need to be told what to do or where to go all the time, he really doesn’t need reassurance all the time.
But that’s something he tells both them and himself, just to convince someone that things are okay. Really he does need reassurance all the time and he’s tired of it.
He’s so tired of it. He’s tired of everything. Of it all.
Of being there for everyone all the time, of not being good enough, of being a burden.
Because that’s what he is at the end of the day. A burden.
He can convince himself all he wants, his friends can try to tell him as well, or his family, or strangers he meets, or even his doctors.
But none of them are telling the truth.
He. Is. A. Burden.
Everyone is allowed to have issues, to not be there when they’re needed. To make mistakes. To learn and grow.
But not Felix. Felix has done this for too long. Twenty-Two years too long in fact.
All he does is make mistakes, digging into the flower planters instead of the ground beside it. Chewing up a couch cushion instead of his dog toy. Dragging mud into the house on a rainy day. Barking too loud.
Felix wasn’t a great person. Sure he was a good one, he won’t hate himself that hard. He’s done good things, memorable things. But Felix wasn’t a good person.
He wasn’t a good son, a good friend, or a good dog.
He only caused issues wherever he went, causing stress for everyone he knew. He wasn’t comforting enough when people needed him, constantly falling short of helpful. He didn’t provide anything useful.
Felix wasn’t funny. He wasn’t pretty or handsome. He wasn’t nice enough. He didn’t care enough. He never gave enough, even though he gave his all.
Felix was useless. He knew he was. Everyone told him he wasn’t, and he wanted to believe them he really did. But every turn he made proved otherwise. Every repeat of the endless cycle he lived in, showed him what he truly was.
He felt bad. Being like this. He didn’t want his friends to have to see him like this. Having to constantly pick up the broken pieces that was Lee Felix.
He didn’t want to always have to rely on them to be happy, to feel any form of comfort. He wanted to be independent somehow, not like a dog codependently thriving on their owner.
Felix was sorry, at the end of the day. He wanted to be good enough, really he did. He wanted nothing more than to be perfect. To be happy, to finally be what people have always wanted him to be.
He wants to be the strongest person in the world, to provide for everyone he loves. He wants to fight whatever battles they go through and his own all at the same time. Felix wants to be the best dog he can.
But he can’t. It’s not in his genes. He’s not a Golden Retriever, with its beautiful fur shining excitedly in the sun. He’s not a Siberian Husky ready to pull sleds across the snow. He’s not a Beagle, ready to help his owner hunt dinner.
Felix was a mutt, a runt of the litter with no redeeming traits of any of his parents' breeds.
He’s sorry. He’s sorry he can’t be good enough. That he was a failure. A mistake. A waste of space. He was extremely sorry.
He didn’t want to be, he tried so hard not to be. But it’s so hard. So tiring. To try so hard. Especially when nothing improves.
Every time he thinks things are getting better, that things are okay and he was just being dramatic through his rough patch, it all comes crashing down again. And instead of ending it all, his friends and family just let him keep going, hoping that maybe he’ll learn to be a good dog.
Because no one wants to put down their beloved dog right? So Felix has to himself, for everyone else’s sake. If they can’t do it, he’d do it for them. Because he needed to be the best dog. Doing one of his best tricks, playing dead.
Only this time, he wasn’t playing. It wasn’t a trick. For once, he finally didn’t feel so tired. For once, he finally wasn’t a burden. He hoped that for once he finally made everyone proud.
That for once, he was finally a good dog.