Devils Revenge

~Chapter Twenty-Six~

The pain I conflict on my own body shuts of the pain in my head.

It's just easier that way.

It creates a barrier between the physical and emotional aspects of things. Not that I have any emotions besides anger.

But there are days where I let it get the best of me. The grief can be too much to handle at times.

And that therapist says that it's okay for the grief to overpower all the other feelings, just as long as I find myself.

As long as I find that peaceful part of me again.

But how do you find something that is so far gone?

How do I find something in myself that may not have ever really existed?

She told me that the grief I'm feeling is normal. It's normal for me to be sad. It's normal for me to want to disappear.

She doesn't get it.

"I'm here for you," she says. If she were here for me she would be trying harder to pry the fucking emotions out of me.

I don't know if this makes sense, but I want her to keep pushing me to tell her what I'm feeling. I want her to ask and pry the information out of me even if I refuse to tell her.

Because me knowing myself, I'll refuse. I'll refuse until she gets tired of me.

I just want to know that someone truely cares about me.

I get it, it doesn't make sense. But it's just how my brain works.

And with every breath I take, I regret because she should be here breathing. She should be here smiling and playing with flowers in the garden.

But she isn't.

And since she died I haven't been able to forgive myself.

And I deserve to feel the pain I'm feeling.

Because sometimes holding onto the pain means not wanting to heal.

And I don't want to heal because then that means I'll forget her.

The last connection I'll ever have to her is my pain, my sorrow.

And if I need to feel pain in order to be connected to her, then I never want to heal.

I never want to feel okay ever again.

I'm supposed to be seeing the therapist later tonight. In twenty minutes to be exact.

But I'm thinking of not going tonight. I don't see any point in going anymore.

But my mama encourages it.

And I've already disappointed enough this week. I don't want to disappoint her anymore then she is.

I looked out the balcony windows, staring down at the field of flowers below. They swayed a little in the light breeze that was beginning to form.

I turned away from the windows and placed the small leather book and pen that was in my hand, on my bedside table.

I sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands.

When does the pain stop?

My phone began to ring and I had a look at the caller. It was a series of random numbers. I slowly picked it up and answered.