No, I'm Just Delusional (Phan) RE-WRITE IN PROCESS

Wishing I Wasn't Alone

Phil -

“I don't think I can do it any more Dan. I can't live like this. I can't live in fear always dreading whats going to happen next. I want to end it, I need to end it. But I can't thats always the problem though isn't it.” I laugh with no emotion, but it's true. I have tried so so hard to be there for my brother and do the right thing by him but I can't anymore. I know it is selfish but I can't do this anymore. The constant pain, physically and emotionally, knowing that I can never me loved, that no one will ever want me, I'm just a waste of air, a waste of time. I know that any second I am going to loose it.

“I can't just end it. I have to be there for my brother, the one person that actually needs me.” I say honestly. I can't be selfish. I have to do this, for him and once he is safe I can leave, I can do what needs to be done, what everyone else has tried to do to me. But now? Now I, I just don't know. I am having all these feeling and I don't know what they mean or how to explain them. Why am I here why am I not dead.

“Phil, were are only young and I know you have had it tough but suicide is never an option. You can't give up. There is to much to live for. Places to go, people to meet. Life hasn't even begun, its far to early to end. You have to go on, as much as life puts you down you have to stand back up and keep going.” I look up at Dan. What he said is true but I don't think that it applies to me. I don't want to go on. I want to die.

I can't deal with this. All these feelings all these memories coming back to me all at once. The first time my step-father hit my mother. Then he walked over to me and beat me senseless. I was 9. Then the time that Dan and his friends hurt me. They kicked me breaking my ribs then lifted me up by my hands and feet and smacked me against the floor, then they locked me in a locker and I was stuck in there for two days. Or the time that my step-father poured a kettle down my back because I tried to run away. I was 11. All the pain, every inch of my body is searing with it. My head, my back, my legs, my arms, my stomach. I can't help it.

I curl up into a ball, tears freely falling down my cheeks. I now notice I am shaking. Then one of the worse memories come back, I try to force it back knowing how much pain i'll be in if I let it take over. I open my eyes trying to focus on something that won't pull me back into the war zone that is my mind. Dan is staring down at me and I can't help notice that his eyes are filled with worry and concern? Dan moves his head closer to mine and I am completely astounded when I found my lips met with Dans. Before I realise what I am doing I find myself kissing back. I hear a moan and snap out of it. I immediately pull away. Oh my God. I can't believe that just happened. What more id this is the second time as well.

I can't comprehend the feeling I have in my stomach. I feel upset, scared and like I want more? No, no, no. This, this isn't happening, no. I tell myself. I watch as Dan's face contorts into an emotionless mask. He gets up leaving me on the bed and walks to the door.

“I can't do this Phil. We-we, there can't be. No. This isn't right. Ok? You-you need to stay away from me. This is all-all your fault.” Dan looks as if he's talking to himself and I can't help but notice the tears streaming down his face. He stumbles over the words and I take one more look into the pools that have somehow pulled my under their spell only to hurt me more than he could of physically. He looks back at me with regret? I must be seeing things.

He leaves, He just leaves. Like it's no big deal. Wait is it a big deal. Yes. Yes it is. I suddenly understand all of the feeling I have been experiencing since I found out Dan took me to the hospital.

I understand.

I like him.

I'm gay.

And I am crushing on a guy who thinks i'm dirt beneath his shoes. A guy who will never see me other than the pathetic loser at school. He'll never know how I feel. He won't get the chance. I lay curled up on the bed thinking of everything that had happened in the past hour. The panic attack, telling him I wanted to die, the kiss.

I can't help but feel angry, angry that life has done this to me.Put me in a position where I have to put others above myself and learn to rely on myself. I know life is hard but surly I don't deserve this, surly I haven't done anything to cause this to happen. I know there is only one way to stop it.

I slowly make my way off of the bed and over to Dan's en-suite bathroom. I don't know how I didn't notice before but Dan must be loaded.

Pushing those thoughts aside I slowly make my way over to the bathroom. Before I can reach it I trip on something heavy. I fall down and hit my head on the wooden floor boards. My back and legs scream for attention and there is nothing I can do. I feel like I am pinned to the floor. Like I have been so many times before.

Forced into submission, forced to with hold my feelings, ambitions and hopes and replace them with pain. That is it. I am so worthless. No one would ever want me, ever dream of even remotely noticing me as anything other than a source to release anger. I will never be seen as a human only an animal forced to experience sadistic and forced pain. Pain that I will never escape, unless...

I shuffle over to the bathroom sink on my hands and knees, slowly and suppressing many groans along the way. I get there and it occurs to me that he might not have any razors.I kneel just tall enough to look into the draws. I open the first one and find a packet of condoms. Just another painful reminder that I will never be loved, or even remotely liked.

I close it slowly and open the last draw and at the very bottom find a long razor blade, much thicker and heavier than the one I have at home. I bring it up to my wrist and carve a long line from my wrist to my elbow. It feel so good but not good enough. I do it again and again until I have at least a dozen or more jagged cuts. Tears cloud my vision and i'm loosing a lot of blood. I don't care this is what I wanted anyway.

I decide this is it. I take the knife and raise it slowly up to my neck. My hands are trembling and before I can second guess myself, I connect the cold knife with my warm flesh and slide it along. They pain is unbearable and I find myself lying on the floor of Dan's bathroom bleeding, in pain and wishing I wan't alone.

Just saying down here, that in no way am I promoting self-harm or suicide. I am always available on my tumblr (which is in my account bio) and I am very serious when I say that suicide should never be an option. Stay safe.