#milip

Loneliness can be a vicious thing and often cause a person to act out in a way they shouldn’t, make them think things they shouldn’t, make them do what they think they should do. It makes a person levitate towards something that fills an empty void, and they pursue that in hopes and false belief it is what they need. Ultimately it only brings them more pain, and while it can fill that hole for a while, it eventually tips and it’s empty again. But there is always something that lingers and the reminder for the rest of that person’s life.  This was the case for Milton Mamet—a man who had spent the majority of his life alone. His social awkwardness brought on by Asperger’s, hindered his future of relationships from anything from an acquaintance to a romantic partner. The thing that benefited him in this case, was he did not seek many of those things, he did not seek them, nor did he wish a sexual relationship or romantic at that. As a child friendship was so foreign to him; the children would taunt and tease as he sat and did his work at recess—remind him that he was alone with no parents to care for him. Even as an adult and in a work environment he still remained at his desk through lunch and worked as the others played and taunted. Milton hid in his books and his work, his hobbies and future career as a scientist. No one saw his ideals, no one saw his brilliant mind, no one saw him—no one wanted to see him. They didn’t want to see that as much as he did not seek that social interaction, that intimacy of someone who cared; inside he wanted that bond, he wanted to share that connection with someone. The bond of friendship. It never dawned on him that his potential for friendship was right there the whole time—the man that would later on bring him out from his shell, the man who made him stiffen up his upper lip, was right there. His office work was filled with immature men, all except for one who still joined in the games but knew when to draw the line. The other knew when he was done and sat down, worked nearly as much hours, with the same dedication to get somewhere else in his life for the sake of his family. Milton had learned this other man had a wife and a daughter, his name was Philip, and that he wasn’t overly fond of his job. He never spoke of his home life much with the others, but once opened up a little to the timid man over coffee. Philip had offered to take him out after seeing how the other workers hounded the smaller male—he spoke to him and offered help and advice on how to get the others to leave him alone and if he really needed, he could speak to the boss about moving his cubicle closer to his. Milton had never once understood why he would do that, why he was helping him—he didn’t get that this was his opportunity at friendship. But later in that year, he had found a distraught Philip calling his number at 1Am in the morning after the news of his wife’s passing. The smaller male didn’t even recall giving him his number, it must have been over coffee when they spoke, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he lugged himself out of bed and was over at his house within half an hour when he was requested to come over. It seemed strange to him as he never once realized Philip had considered him close; it never dawned on him that the bigger male told him things that he never dared speak about to his own family. Secrets, family problems, financial issues—he told Milton them all as they spent lunches together more and more. As he reached the house and knocked on the door—the opening of it and the look of complete grief, mourning, and yet trust as Philip looked down on him; it finally hit him that this man figured him to be a friend. Was this what they were talking about? Did he, himself, feel the same? Was he not like everyone else and could understand the meaning of friendship and not see it or feel it? But as he spent the night on Philips couch, talking and helping his mourning—even though he couldn’t relate is was the fact he was there and listening that counted—it hit the man… He cared for Philip. Milton would never so easily allow himself to be pulled out of bed to listen to a grown man about the loss of his wife for just any man. He actually cared for him—respected him. As their friendship grew, he had found himself over at his house almost every day assisting in helping with the others daughter, he found himself more attached than ever. The smaller male would never say it out loud, but this man had become much more than a friend, no not a lover, but a brother. All three of them easily spent nights together, eating take out and watching movies. Philip in the middle of the couch with Penny curled at his side, clutching her stuffed penguin, while Milton softly snored at the other, also curled into his side. It was a small dysfunctional family, but it was still family in the timid man’s eyes and in some ways, it was also the same for Philips. It was happy than, no matter how bad money got, no matter how many bumps in the road they hit, they still stuck together—even as the city was swamped with the dead Philip still found a way to keep them together.  He sheltered them both the whole way through until they reached their limit and they couldn’t keep running anymore. It was an obstacle one after the other, and soon they just became too tired to keep going. It was luck that they came by the little town of Woodbury and as they huddled in the small room, Philip was surprised at Milton’s idea of making something here. To make this a new home—that there was enough vehicles and bigger objects around from the construction site and the other end of town to build a wall. This could be something worth fighting for. The timid man’s idea for a new life here seemed incredibly ridiculous at the time with only the three of them, but as more and more people came across they finally had the man power to fulfill this plan. Now as they sat inside of refurnished apartments, stood in cleaned off streets, ate food at the dinner table, they finally felt a bit of normalcy again. As Milton stood there by the makeshift gates to open—waiting for Philip to return from a run, he had a thought run through his head that this could be home again. But the moment those gates opened, as the cars parked and a terrified yet stoic looking Philip hoped out of the truck, rushing to open the back door. Milton’s heart stopped and his stomach turned as he saw the door close—the thought of home vanished as he saw the whole world flip. The floor beneath him crumbled as he saw Philip clutching at Penny’s bloodied form—the little girl had insisted on going with her dad and no one had once thought of the consequences of that. It was like they had stayed here so long that they forgot what it was really like. He could see the man keeping back angered cries and tears as he held his daughter and rushed her to Dr. Stevens.  Milton couldn’t even open his mouth as he witnessed his niece in his brothers arms—two people he had grown to care for, two people who had taken him in and considered him family. One was dying while the other was tearing apart on the inside and that was the moment he shut his eyes. He shut them from the incoming truth of what was to come and what the consequences for this were going to be. He shut himself down and isolated himself inside again as he heard angered screams come from the room he brought Penny to. He heard the sound of Philips fist making contact with the wall as Dr. Stevens told him it was too late, that they couldn’t do anything for her. Milton didn’t need to see the commotion inside, but just hearing it made his chest ache—it only increased later on as he heard his brothers cries later that night. He dared to step foot in his apartment, he asked softly if he could do anything and the bigger males instant response was angered screams of how he failed, how he needed a cure, how he wasn’t going to let this go. Before he could even say anything-- it was like a switch—Philip was on his knees in front of Milton, sobs wracking his body, his voice was slurred as the smaller male finally clued in he was drunk. One hand gripped at the side of his pants with a shaking hand as he heard his brothers pleads to bring his little girl back, to help him. Philip knew of the others hobby, of his talent and knowledge in the scientific field, how he knew and could explain so many things and he only knew of one person in this town capable of saving their family. He knew this was unlike his normal self, but he still clutched at his friends clothes, tears still in his eyes as he begged him to save his little girl. Please. The moment he found himself staring right back at his brother, Philip blinked; Milton had kneeled down to be eye level with him. His hands awkwardly placed on his shoulders as he promised him in a shaky voice that he would do it, that he would do anything it took to save Penny. The ache in his chest came back as he could see his face clearly now—now his hands rested on the side of Philips face, whispering, everything’s going to be alright.