i’m thinking about wilhelm today. about how he followed felice to make sure she was okay at the parent’s lunch even though they weren’t friends. about how even in the wake of his brother’s death he was kind, and gentle, and offered felice his coat because she was cold. about how he looks at simon with such reverence when they’re together, like he can’t believe that simon wants to be with him. about him making simon a sandwich for breakfast and wrapping it with so much care, and getting grumpy when he couldn’t immediately give it to him. about “i’m not supposed to speak on political matters” and “sorry, i’m not - fuck, i’m not-“ and “i want you to hold me.”
i’m especially thinking about how much he craves touch, and love, and affection. about how he melted into that hug with the headmistress because the one thing he needed at that time was physical affection and his own mother couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give it to him. how he has panic attacks, and rubs his chest, and spreads his arms wide because someone must have told him it helps. how being with simon was the one thing he felt he had some semblance of control over, and how that control was ripped from him in the cruelest of ways.
i’m thinking about how strong and how brave he is to give a speech to his peers after his brother’s death. about how he said “it feels so wrong that i’m the one still here, instead of him.” about how much he struggles and agonises over his love for simon because loving simon feels as easy as breathing, but the weight and the pressure of the life he is being forced to lead never eases. about how he probably doesn’t think that he’s worthy of simon’s love, and how losing him was almost unbearable.
there’s something about how he extends kindness to everyone he meets. about how he sees the way simon stands up for himself and for others and falls in love with that fire, that defiance. how he tried to give simon advice with his studies. how he went out of his way to sit with simme at the parent’s lunch, made sure simon’s mum was comfortable. how he said simon was singing from his heart. how he holds himself and rubs his hands up and down his arms because he’s always subconsciously looking for physical contact to steady him.
he’s strong, but there’s a softness to him that remains untouched by all of the pain he’s been through. i hope he doesn’t lose that softness.
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