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Despite the reservations everyone seems to have about the color scheme and decor decisions and the pointed lack of Catholic priests in attendance, Will’s wedding turns out to be really, really nice.
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“Mack swallows around the lump in his throat. Abruptly, he’s nineteen again, standing outside Patty’s door with his Team Canada carry-on and a silver medal shoved into his backpack, feeling like nothing will ever be right in this world again and that something inside of him had splintered and become fundamentally unfixable, and when Will opens the door, Mack is choking up like he’s five again and he’s realizing that losing will never be easy on him and his brain is working overtime, trying to find a way to say, love me, love me, without wanting to scream. He is watching Will watch him and he is saying, I just really don’t want to go home yet. Something is clawing inside his chest and he knows he’s going to cry the minute Will comes close enough, and he’s so tired and he won’t stop hurting, and Will says, kindly, you don’t have to ask, Mack. Something in him is unspooling like a stitch pulled tight coming undone for the first time in years. He is thinking that he’s lucky that he can lose his footing and stumble and skin his knees and still turn around and walk back to someone like Will, who’ll hold the door open and let him in.” fuck man.
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“I’d make it happen for you,” he’s saying, before he can talk himself out of it, “if you really wanted to run away, Will.”
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Wanting something bad enough that it felt like you were choking on its animal body didn’t mean that you could keep it. Sometimes, Mack thinks that he could have this lesson imparted on him a thousand different ways—twelve seconds on the clock and a missed one-timer, an Olympic silver medal in his Team Canada carry-on, having Will text him raincheck? Ed’s flying in and looking down at his stress-white knuckles in betrayal and wishing he was a good person—and he’d still find himself waiting for something to change anyway.
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chewing it eating it yes. ohggg my god. amazing mack monologue bitter and acerbic and terrified. i wish i hated him!!!!!!!! yeowch!!!!!!
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“I meant Smit. I wish I hated him, sometimes.”
In all the years that it had taken for this cut to fester and rot, this was the closest he’d ever come to talking about it with anyone. The steering wheel creaked under Toff’s grip. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and Mack had thought that he was trying to spare Mack the mortification of being drunk and talking out of his ass. Then, he asked, “Was the ring nice, at least?”
Mack closed his eyes and willed his stomach to stop turning. Pretended he was twenty again, sitting in Toff’s car while Will slept on his shoulder. Pretended it didn’t live inside him, this hurt and this violence. “It was nice,” he said, and he wondered if there was ever going to be a point when this felt bearable. “Ed’s lucky. Really lucky.”
IH IM SK MOVEDDDDD . THE MACKLENO RELUCTANT BONDING MOMENT HERE IS EVERYTHING TO ME . and also of course mack trying to deal with not getting everything he wants even if he has half of it even if he wants it so bad and then suddenly OF COURSE it all works out naybe in his favor and maybe he can even have it if he tries I WAS ALWAYS LOOKING WILL god bless. The hoodie being leno’s is so special to me
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